BWW Reviews: THE COMFORT OF STRANGERS, The Courtyard Theatre, September 7 2011

In The Company of Strangers (at The Courtyard Theatre until 25 September), Carol Bunyan has fashioned the ostensibly unpromising comic material of a rest home's internal staff tensions into a poignant 90 minutes of traditional situation comedy. For those who grew up on a diet of Porridge, all the ingredients of sitcom are present - characters are trapped physically and psychologically, tensions rise as ambitions are frustrated and, at the end of it all, people rub along because, well, there's no choice really is there?

Senior Nurse Nick (Alan Charlesworth) hides a guilty secret behind a facade of bonhomie, that occasionally slips as the past catches him in a reverie from which he is brought back by the shrill David Brentish Matron (Imogen Bain), another middle-manager who bullies her subordinates and fears her superiors. Work experience kids (Rebecca Farrell and Aaron Mwale) are introduced as typically whining workshy Media Studies students, but disprove the Daily Mailish stereotyping by showing heart and resourcefulness as just a touch of romance blossoms. The one resident we see, Ken (Derek Wright in a lovely understated performance that reminds us that less can be more) stands for all those surprised and disappointed to find themselves resigned to late life consolation in the comfort of strangers.

Comedy like this needs a claustrophobic environment to work at its best - think Steptoe and Son as the best example - this production is somewhat lost on the main stage of the Courtyard Theatre and might have been shown to advantage in its studio. For the same reason, the play is too long and would benefit from a director who is not also the writer. Having said that, more and more people are becoming familiar with rest homes and the guilty gratitude that flows from relatives to those willing to do the dirty work for not much more than minimum wage. There's a very dark, rather disturbing comedy lurking in this production, but it never really comes through, hidden, ironically, in too much space and time.

 

 

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