★★★

“struggles to know itself: its heavy in content, but its comedy is competitive, rather than complementary”

‘(This is not a) Happy Room’ is rammed with content, much of which is very funny. For all that content, though, it lacks substance.

Let us start with the good. Written by Rosie Day, and directed by Hannah Price, the concept for the piece is promising: a wedding which quickly devolves into a funeral. It’s an intriguing set up, allowing for some Aristotelian compliance: all the action takes place in the wedding-cum-funeral venue, and all in the space of about 24 hours. Yet, the tragicomic offerings of this narrative are misused, and it struggled to emotionally engage.

Much of the dialogue does amuse, especially in conjunction with Jonny Weldon’s physical eccentricities and excellent timing as attention-starved hypochondriac Simon. Amanda Abbington, too, is classy and cutting as matriarch Esther, expertly combatting her adult-children’s whines and self-indulgent pathologies (though I’m not sure she was meant to be the most sympathetic figure – more on this later). Alison Liney as dementia-ridden Great Aunt Agatha and Tom Kanji as Laura’s (Andrea Valls) husband Charles, also regale with some excellent comedy moments.

A pressing concern with this play, however, is in its characters: ‘(This is not a) Happy Room’ is an unrelenting piece of naturalistic theatre, which becomes rather monotonous in this pursuit. Without an interlude to chop up this type of drama – please, dear god, bring back the Interval – this style of dialogue loses pace and organisation. What’s more, naturalistic dialogue of this ilk screams out for nuance in its characters. To sustain itself, naturalism must present fascinating, idiosyncratic and nuanced people at its centre. Most of the characters in this piece veered in and out of cliche. This was particularly apparent in the women, especially the daughters, Laura and Elle. They typified the trend that is becoming alarmingly common: a kind of fetishised narcissist. Both women were vapid and nasty, with Elle parading ignorance and idiocy with proud ostentation. It’s not cute, and I fear does little for feminism.

The figure of real sympathy is Abbington’s Esther, beleaguered and criticised incessantly by her children, she’s painted as the therapy-denying, stern British mother, who believes most mental illness is just a natural response to the drudgeries of life. But as a mother and maternal figure, she is seemingly vilified. Indeed, some compelling questions are raised regarding motherhood and the ‘selflessness’ narrative of motherhood, but the ways in which these were navigated felt incomplete.

As the play develops, it gets littered with traumas, few of which are divulged in a way which forwards the conversation. Without more specific family detail, it’s hard not to see the Hendersons as symptomatic of many a repressed British household, rather than one of spectacular dysfunction. This show struggles to know itself: its heavy in content, but its comedy is competitive, rather than complementary. ‘(This is not a) Happy Room’ is certainly very watchable, and it will make you laugh, but as a drama, it flounders somewhat.

FAREWELL MR HAFFMANN

Park Theatre

★★★★

“Tension and relief are hallmarks of this production as director Oscar Toeman steers us through the shifting moods with slick clarity”

There is a recurring line in Jean-Phillipe Daguerre’s play, “Farewell Mister Haffmann”, that is reprised by nearly all the characters at some point. ‘Courage is stronger than fear’. The quotation could have come from the hand of Mark Twain, Martin Luther King or Nelson Mandela. In some paraphrased version it has probably been cited by many of our respected world leaders and philosophers. It carries the danger of becoming a glib, self-help-manual style platitude, but in the context of this play (translated by Jeremy Sams) it is a crucial motif. Sometimes delivered comically, but more often with poignancy; it exemplifies the fearless way in which Daguerre tackles his subject matter – turning a global narrative into an intimate, human story that is funny – almost farcical. But don’t be complacent. It can suddenly turn on you with the unpredictability of a dangerous dog.

Inspired by Daguerre’s great-grandparents who hid Polish Jews from the Nazis, it is set in Paris over two years from May 1942. Joseph Haffmann (Alex Waldmann), having sent his wife and children to Geneva, decides to hand over his jewellery shop to his loyal, hardworking, non-Jewish assistant, Pierre Vigneau (Michael Fox). It comes with a condition, however. Pierre and his wife Isabelle (Jennifer Kirby) must agree to move into Joseph’s house and hide him in the cellar until normality is resumed. A further twist has Pierre lay down his own condition. His marriage is childless. Unable to get his wife pregnant, he asks Joseph to do the honours as his side of the bargain.

It is all very matter of fact. The scenes flash by in a series of short bursts. Patently, Isabelle is initially reluctant of the proposition made by her husband on her behalf. Less obviously, Pierre is modestly reticent to take over the business. The conversations are awkward and wrought with moral dilemmas. The decisions are made during the semi-dark scene transitions, so we see the causes and the consequences. Kirby is marvellous as Isabelle, presenting the fragile façade that all is well, but letting us know that it will shatter at any moment. Fox’s Pierre, nervous yet jovial at first, slips into angst and jealousy. Whilst his wife does the ‘deed’ with Haffmann, he goes out tap dancing; a routine that he uses to distract himself from what’s going on in the cellar. As the months go by, the dance steps acquire more and more freneticism. All three performances remarkably show the unravelling nature of each personality as the stakes are raised.

It is a jagged little piece. Not every issue is followed through successfully, but the character arcs are well formed. This feels very much like a three hander. Until art-loving, Nazi ambassador Otto Abetz (Nigel Harman) arrives at the eleventh hour. His presence has already been felt and has been a major source of contention between the others so far. Everything changes when Otto arrives for dinner, along with his loose-tongued wife, Suzanne (Jemima Rooper). A dinner served with huge side orders of tension, broken only by Suzanne’s coarse and tactless interjections. Rooper is a sheer delight with her precise comic timing and delivery. Harman, however, keeps her in check with a performance that chills. We teeter between wanting to laugh or letting our jaws drop to the floor in shock. The stillness of Harman’s portrayal conceals a simmering and dangerous mind.

The shift in tone works remarkably well as we are caught as much off guard as the characters within the play. Tension and relief are hallmarks of this production as director Oscar Toeman steers us through the shifting moods with slick clarity; while Asaf Zohar’s sound and Christopher Nairne’s lighting slice the action into glorious bit-sized vignettes. It is a unique portrayal of a much-explored piece of history, made all the more pertinent and unsettling by its light-hearted intimacy. A hasty epilogue slightly dampens the overall effect, but is arguably necessary to cement where Daguerre’s – and our – sympathies lie. We can only imagine the choices people had to make at such a perilous time in history. “Farewell Mister Haffmann” fires our imaginations brilliantly and powerfully. Refreshingly short and sharp but full of savage twists, it is shockingly funny.

(THIS IS NOT A) HAPPY ROOM

King’s Head Theatre

★★★

“struggles to know itself: its heavy in content, but its comedy is competitive, rather than complementary”

(THIS IS NOT A) HAPPY ROOM

King’s Head Theatre

Reviewed on 31st March 2025

by Violet Howson

Photography by Mark Senior

Previously reviewed at this venue:

(THIS IS NOT A) HAPPY ROOM

(THIS IS NOT A) HAPPY ROOM

(THIS IS NOT A) HAPPY ROOM

FAREWELL MR HAFFMANN

Park Theatre

★★★★

“Tension and relief are hallmarks of this production as director Oscar Toeman steers us through the shifting moods with slick clarity”