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Television audiences, at least television studio audiences, being presented with what they are told is comedy seem to feel obliged to laugh at more or less every other line, funny or not. It is sufficient that the actor, whom they know to be a comedian or comic actor has spoken the line. Often the most sincere response to humour is a smile or a chuckle, rather than a forced Ha! Ha! Ha! to show you've seen the joke.
Joe Orton knew this. When working on What The Butler Saw he wrote a a scene
where Geraldine is disguised as an Indian nurse. It made him laugh a lot so he promptly removed it on the grounds that when anything makes him roar with laughter, it's a sure sign it must be cut. The essence of farce is that the action must never be held up and whilst descending trousers etc. can legitimately be laughed at, nothing should interfere with the pace and interaction of the dialogue nor interrupt its delivery.
This happy state of affairs existed at The Nomads' production of What The Butler Saw. An appreciative audience was entertained by, smiled, chuckled and laughed at a spirited production whilst allowing the actors to move the inimitable Orton dialogue at the right pace. The strange characters of the Orton world with their manered and sometimes quite stately dialogue were successfully introduced to East Horsley, despite the Director's tongue in cheek concerns, although Sir Winston Churchill's dismembered member was never actually seen (see the play folks). The play'scomplicated choreography was facilitated by a strong and well thoughtout set and, most important, the actors themselves obviously enjoyed their excursion into Orton Country with its semi-demented pace and its 'all is understood and all is forgiven' ending a la Shakespeare.
Chris Bissex's Dr Prentice was obviously doomed never to complete a seduction and got shiftier and shiftier. Elizabeth Eaton's Oedipal Mrs Prentice was both scary and seductive and one understood the 'sex in the cupboard' potential (again see the play.) Fortunately Clive Mott's Dr Rance was not required to undress; fortunately Nikki Tidy's Geraldine Barclay was. For the ladies Martin Lawrance as Sergeant Match stripped down to his policeman's helmet (Orton not me) and Mat Goldhawk as Nicholas Beckett en deshabille whould certainly have appealed to Joe himself. Well done, John Norris. Well directed.
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