★★★★

“farcically over the top – but that’s what it’s all about”

There is something intrinsically satisfying about watching somebody dig themselves deeper and deeper into a hole. Witnessing others’ misfortunes – especially in a theatre environment – isn’t driven by cruelty. Psychologists and philosophers have written pages on the subject of ‘schadenfreude’, but most of us enjoy the sensation without giving it a second thought. Which is why television shows like ‘You’ve Been Framed’ are popular. Farce is funny. It works best by putting ordinary people into extreme, out-of-control predicaments; the humour coming from watching them try to maintain their dignity and hide their secrets, while all around everything is falling apart.

Playwright Peter Shaffer certainly knew how to tap into this concept when he created the characters for his 1965 one-act comedy “Black Comedy”. And then he added another trick, borrowed from Chinese theatre, where he would reverse darkness and light. The play, set in a young sculptor’s South Kensington flat, opens in pitch black. When a fuse blows plunging the flat into darkness, the stage is illuminated. We see everything, while the characters are stumbling around in the dark. What ensues is seventy-five minutes of joy, watching the disintegration of order coupled with seeing how the darkness reveals truths that the characters manage to hide in the light.

A simple but ingenious conceit made trickier by playing it completely in the round: the expertise required by the cast is magnified, yet they pull it off superbly. Fledgling sculptor Brindsley (Joe Bannister) and his fiancé Carol (Leah Haile) are preparing to meet a rich and influential art dealer. Anxious to impress, Brindsley has ‘borrowed’ some expensive antiques from his neighbour Harold (Simon Manyonda) without his knowledge. Meanwhile, Brindsley’s former mistress, Clea (Patricia Allison), is threatening a comeback, while Carol’s father – Colonel Melkett (Jason Barnett) – has arrived to check out his prospective son-in-law. Teetotal neighbour Miss Furnival (Julia Hills) enters, seeking refuge from her fear of the dark.

Caroline Steinbeis, making her directorial debut at the Orange Tree Theatre, handles the intricacies and the chorographical demands with panache. Aided by physical comedy consultant, John Nicholson, the fast-paced chaos unfolding on stage feels natural despite the precise and intricate blocking required. Occasionally things fall out of synch, but we barely notice amongst the intentional mayhem. Bannister has faultless comic timing, pitching pauses perfectly during which we can almost hear his brain working out how to get out of the next mess he’s found himself in. Haile’s Carol is teasing and playful, a willing accomplice to her fiancé’s deceptions, simultaneously rebelling against her military father while wrapping him around her finger. Barnett gives a gentle giant of a performance as the colonel; imposing but bumbling, regimental in his speech but betraying a taste for subversion.

The laughs increase in tandem with the number of people onstage. When Harold returns early, much of the humour derives from Brindsley’s doomed attempts to replace all of his belongings before the lights come back on. Physical comedy comes to the fore, around which Manyonda – as Harold – dances with a camp joie de vivre, until it turns to gleeful horror when truths are revealed. Hills is a delight as Miss Furnival, accidentally discovering the joys of alcohol in the darkness. Allison is a gorgeously impish Clea, who delights in the advantageous observer’s position in which she finds herself. A mischievous smile follows her every movement and sentence – it is clear she is relishing the chaos. When Schuppanzigh the electrician (Chris Chilton) arrives, he is mistaken for the rich art dealer in a wonderfully slapstick, though slightly predictable, comedy of errors. The real art dealer has barely more than a walk on role, but Javier Marzan makes the most of it.

A whirlwind of a show, it works well up close. Dangerously up close for the performers, but they use the audience to great and comic effect. It is farcically over the top – but that’s what it’s all about. As a play, “Black Comedy” is as light as they come, and great fun. A reminder that, at times, theatre is simply pure, joyous entertainment without needing to be anything more.

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

Orange Tree Theatre

★★★★★

“an exceptionally polished production, beautifully staged, superbly written and flawlessly performed”

Even one hundred and thirty years after his death, we still haven’t got the pronunciation of Vincent Van Gogh’s name quite right (the Americans are even further off the mark). Which is why Vincent initially introduces himself as ‘Mr Vincent’ in Nicholas Wright’s subtly evocative and brilliantly crafted play “Vincent in Brixton”. Vincent’s frustration is matched by his bewilderment at the English way of life, coupled with a desire to fit in. “I’m learning diplomatic English” he proudly proclaims. But there are other barriers too, most notably his innocent directness and tactlessness – a raw naivety that exposes secrets. This often starts him off on the wrong foot, but Dutch actor Jeroen Frank Kales paints a profoundly endearing picture of the post-impressionist painter in all his eccentricity and candour.

We are in Brixton in the 1870s, where the young Vincent has arrived to work as an art dealer for his family’s business. His heart isn’t in it (we soon learn that his heart is elsewhere) and his own latent artistic talent is still yet to be realised. He moves into the home of widowed teacher Ursula Loyer (Niamh Cusack) and her daughter, Eugenie (Ayesha Ostler). Unaware that Eugenie is secretly and romantically entangled with fellow lodger Sam Plowman (Rawaed Asde), Vincent immediately falls for her with brash inappropriateness, only to rapidly transfer his affections to her mother. It all sounds a touch callous and furtive, but the writing and the acting is so faultlessly accomplished and convincing that what unfolds is a touching story of the transforming power of love. Cusack, dressed in black and still mourning her late husband after fifteen years, shifts from melancholy to pure radiance that has our hearts beating with joy (temporarily… there are twists and reveals in the script that you need to go and find out for yourself).

The attention to detail is extraordinary. Designer Charlotte Henery’s nineteenth century lodging house is beautifully created. Take note – dine well before seeing this show; the aromas of melting butter and roasting lamb will have you salivating while a meal is prepared in real time. References to Van Gogh’s future works are ingeniously and discreetly slotted into the dialogue and the blocking (look out for the pair of boots). Wright has created an artwork in itself, which director Georgia Green has framed with an artist’s eye for perfection.

The story may or may not be true. The events are historically accurate, but the affairs are speculative, yet in this company’s hands they are convincingly real and heartfelt. Kales’ merciless honesty is lovable and hilarious in equal measure. It never takes long for him to smooth the bristles he invariably triggers in others. Ostler’s Eugenie demonstrates the right mix of disdain and affection, while Sam is unfazed by the intrusion and potential rivalry. Asde plays him with a cheeky grin and a sparkling glint in his eye, self-assured in himself but hesitant in his ambitions. The arrival of Vincent’s sister, Anna, is like a brisk wind that has crossed the North Sea. A masterstroke of casting, Amber Van Der Brugge bears a striking resemblance to Kales, along with the same unfiltered, bull-in-a-china-shop way with words, albeit more extreme and officious. Righteous and evangelistic, she drops bombshells as though cracking eggs for a light breakfast. The humour is reinforced by some of Wright’s glorious one-liners, yet we are never detracted from the heart of the story.

This heart belongs to Cusack and Kales. The dynamics seemingly unfeigned and the incongruous passion believably touching. “A woman does not grow old as long as she loves and is loved”, wrote the real Vincent in a letter to his brother. The sentiment is a leitmotif that runs through the play, but it never becomes a sentimental platitude. We are left unsure as to whether the love lasts – a symbolic, candle-snuffing cue to blackout hints at an ending – yet the feeling of joy remains long after curtain call. “Vincent in Brixton” is an exceptionally polished production, beautifully staged, superbly written and flawlessly performed. Chaotic and intimate, complex but quotidianly accessible. Biographical dramas often fail to convince in an effort to cover too much epic ground. By focusing on a snapshot, whether true to life or not, we are rewarded with a vibrant portrait of life, love and art. What more can you ask for? An unmissable show – although I regret to say that, unless you have bought your ticket already, you may have missed your chance.

Tag Archives: Orange Tree Theatre

BLACK COMEDY

★★★★

Orange Tree Theatre

BLACK COMEDY

Orange Tree Theatre

★★★★

“farcically over the top – but that’s what it’s all about”

BLACK COMEDY

Orange Tree Theatre

Reviewed on 27th May 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Sam Taylor

BLACK COMEDY

BLACK COMEDY

BLACK COMEDY

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

★★★★★

Orange Tree Theatre

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

Orange Tree Theatre

★★★★★

“an exceptionally polished production, beautifully staged, superbly written and flawlessly performed”