Tag Archives: Theatre Royal Windsor

OUR MAN IN HAVANA

★★★

UK Tour

OUR MAN IN HAVANA

Theatre Royal Windsor

★★★

“the intelligence of Francis’ script shines through”

Graham Greene’s “Our Man In Havana”, published in 1958, is set in a time just before the Cuban Revolution that overthrew the dictatorship of Fulgencio Batista. Greene had recently been deported from Cuba for having been a member of the Communist party as a student. For his novel, he drew on his own experiences as a counter-intelligence officer for MI6, resulting in a biting satire of the Cold War intelligence agencies. Hardly fertile ground for humour, but Greene managed to create a light-hearted, farcical insight into the world of espionage without compromising his attention to detail and literary imagination.

Clive Francis’ stage adaptation of the novel shows the same attention to detail, with very little of the book’s narrative overlooked, and pretty much all the characters present and correct. The fact that over thirty roles are played by a cast of four is a feat in itself. Or rather, three actors: Jack Ashton, who plays the central protagonist, Wormold, has the luxury of focusing on his one role while, all around him, the other three are rushing around adopting multiple personalities at breakneck speed. It is a work-out just watching and trying to keep up. Familiarity with Greene’s story will definitely help, but it is not essential.

Wormold is a British vacuum cleaner salesman, seemingly stranded in Havana, and in a dead-end job. It is the city where he fell in love, and he seems to be grasping onto it. A bit of a lost cause, he spends his days drinking and worrying about his daughter’s penchant for spending money he hasn’t got. He suddenly finds himself being offered a job as a spy, but is is even less adept at espionage than he is at selling vacuum cleaners. Nevertheless, he somehow manages to spot a way of selling false information and concocting fantasies that keep HQ satisfied, while lining his own pockets. It was – allegedly – a regular practice (Wormold was based on a real-life spy nicknamed ‘Garbo’).

There is almost too much to take in; a challenge that director Philip Wilson faces by pushing the piece rapidly through its paces. Half performance and half narration, the audience are kept up to speed. Greene’s inherent dark comedy suffers, however, and we are treated with slapstick instead of subtle humour. Meanwhile, the individual characters have too little stage time to progress beyond caricature or cameo. The obvious exception is Wormold, whom Ashton successfully steers from bumbling incredulity to a mounting disbelief and horror (almost) that his fake reports are starting to come true, and he needs to start fighting for the safety of friends and loved ones.

Jodie Steele is a striking presence as love interest, Beatrice, with her cut-glass RP accent and taut mannerisms, but is remarkably less convincing as Wormold’s over-indulged daughter, Milly, who at eighteen is going on nine. Bob Barrett relishes his many roles that include the dubious Dr. Hasselbacher and the enigmatic Hawthorne who instigates Wormold’s absurd career change. Leon Ockenden completes the line up with an excess of personalities, including military strongman Segura and, bizarrely, a young Queen Elizabeth.

Julie Godfrey’s set is a warm backdrop that is almost too pristine, lacking the crumbling decadence the piece requires. Transitions, executed by the cast themselves, lead us through various locations from the bars to the brothels to seedy street corners; although the authenticity is often compromised by the action. Car rides are predictable with their well-worn swaying movements and dismembered steering wheels. Strippers and waiters populate scenes, as do stuffed animals and wayward accents, but we are longing to get back to the heart of the matter.

We do get glimpses, and when that happens the intelligence of Francis’ script shines through. As does the sheer energy of the performances. But it somehow misses the point. This is not Graham Greene’s vision of his story by any means (we wonder what he might make of it all) but, like the unwitting hero of the play, we are kept on our toes throughout.



OUR MAN IN HAVANA

Theatre Royal Windsor then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 8th July 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Jack Merriman


 

 

 

 

OUR MAN IN HAVANA

OUR MAN IN HAVANA

OUR MAN IN HAVANA

THE MARQUISE

★★★★

UK Tour

THE MARQUISE

Theatre Royal Windsor

★★★★

“this production places Coward’s inherent humour, intelligence and wit fully under the spotlight”

Noël Coward’s romantic comedy play, “The Marquise”, was already his thirteenth full-length play – written at the tender age of twenty-eight. Up to that point, his work always had a contemporary setting, but this latest offering (which he himself described as a ‘tenuous, frivolous little piece’) found him exploring the early eighteenth century, just outside Paris. Philip Wilson’s revival keeps the action in France but takes it back to more familiar Coward territory in which we find ourselves immersed in the glamour of the 1930s. Tuxedos and taffeta adorn the stage as the houselights fade, revealing the art deco splendour of Colin Falconer’s streamlined set. We are in the lacquered interior of Raoul de Vriaac’s chateau, celebrating the engagement of his daughter Adrienne to the son of his old friend, Esteban.

At first, the transposition is a seemingly inspired choice made by Wilson, who directs with the panache and fluidity of a Coward connoisseur. But then again, it is also an obvious choice given the character of the quintessential dialogue; the beauty of which wouldn’t be out of place set in today’s world either. Wilson was also granted permission from the Noël Coward Estate to implement another (minor) tweak that further delivers the play from its more censored origins.

Frivolous it may be. Tenuous it certainly isn’t. The company give robust and convincing performances as they negotiate class divides while bridging the gap between the two World Wars. While the majority are still wallowing in the Roaring Twenties, patriarch Raoul is letting his mindset drift into the Great Depression. Simon Shepherd plays the misanthrope with subtle humour. Memories of the past disturb Raoul, whereas Esteban delights in the shared recollections of their debauchery. Tristan Gemmill is a silver fox, teasing his partner in crime while still holding onto the threadbare affection. Their respective children – Adrienne (Eva O’Hara) and Miguel (Barnaby Tobias) – are rebelling against the marriage their fathers have arranged for them. Adrienne is in love with Raoul’s secretary, Jacques (Albie Marber) while Miguel has fallen for a dancer in Paris.

The ensuing mix of recriminations and outrages is thrown into further disorder by the emergence of the Marquise Eloise de Kestournel. In a role that could have been written for her, Juliet Aubrey lights up the stage. She is fire and ice. The romantic and the pragmatist rolled into a cool stillness, remaining unruffled as she reveals old secrets to her two old flames. Shepherd and Gemmill, in turn, are funny and furious in their comic outrage as the revelations come to the surface.

After the interval, the style becomes more mixed. Classic Coward humour gives way to (almost) farcical scenes. In addition, there are shades of Ibsen, along with vivid splashes of Wilde. Yet the whole is never clumsy, nor contrived, even when the finale looms into plain sight. A couple of anachronisms could potentially jar; such as a fencing duel between Raoul and Esteban which is an unlikely scenario in this setting, but the two actors pull it off with their ability to mix comedy and rage with playful affection. And, of course, a Coward comedy is incomplete without a bit of music. Largely absent throughout – despite the presence of a grand piano – Aubrey eventually gets to showcase her talents further during the closing moments. A melancholy little tune, played and sung alone, slowly shapeshifts into a glorious ensemble sequence. It is a magical moment, veering off-piste slightly, but a clear signpost for the eventual coupling of these disparate characters.

“The Marquise” is one of Coward’s lesser performed plays. Transporting it to the 1930s is not merely an inspired choice; it also puts the story back where it belongs, allowing its flair to flourish. It doesn’t just shed light on family secrets and scandals, but this production places Coward’s inherent humour, intelligence and wit fully under the spotlight. Sense of style, and sense of humour, are a perfect match.



THE MARQUISE

Theatre Royal Windsor then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 1st June 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Alastair Muir


 

 

 

 

THE MARQUISE

THE MARQUISE

THE MARQUISE