Review: HAY FEVER, Starring Christine Baranski & Richard E. Grant

There is a reason why Noël Coward's comedies are still being revived a century after they were written: his rapid-fire dialogue, brimming with vigour and wit skewered the British class system and created vibrant comedy that still resonates today. When they are performed well, there is little to rival them, but even a few chinks in the façade result in what can look like a balloon slowly deflating on stage.

Emily Burns's production keeps the balloon afloat, but only just. Hay Fever has a flimsy plot; the self-centred Bliss family have all invited guests to their country house for the weekend, unbeknown to the other members of the household. As the storm clouds gather outside, the guests becomes unwittingly involved in each of the family's own narcissistic games, leading to acute social embarassment and fallout.

As Judith Bliss, Christine Baranski makes her West End debut as an actress playing a bad actress. Judith has very reluctantly retired from the stage, but is keen to bring theatrics into her life wherever possible. Baranski has a commanding presence, but her muddled accent of an odd mixture of RP and Atlantic twang impacts some of her delivery. But when she gets into her stride she leans into the acute and comedic melodrama of the role with gusto, sweeping from low imperious tones to much higher octaves.

Richard E. Grant's David has little to do in the first half, but emerges like a beacon in the second as the utterly self-absorbed writer. He is perfectly suited to the role of very well-spoken toff, which he does with ease, exploding into the vehement arguments with beautifully fluid delivery.

The couple's unspeakably rude children add plenty to the unfolding mayhem. Ophelia Lovibond’s Sorel has a glint in her eye as the only family member with a hint of self-awareness. Will Close’s posturing painter Simon plays up the bad-mannered aspects of the role with an offhandedness which diminishes any charm the role might hold.

Charles Edwards is in brilliant comic form as the out-of-his-depth diplomat Richard Greatham; increasingly awkward and always desperate to be polite. Edwards's facial expressions and small hand gestures are a masterclass of understated British embarassment. Nancy Carroll's languid Myra brings flirtacious poise and confidence, which is visibly knocked by the family's shenanigans and Lucy Karczewski's naive flapper Jackie is so tightly wound that you feel she may crack at any moment.

There are signs that the play needs more bedding down; the patchy first half lacks pace and some of the comedy just doesn't land as it should. The second half is much more promising: the precision needed with the comic timing is more accurate and the bon mots land thick and fast. 

Frankie Bradshaw's set is nothing less than sumptuous, with much inspiration taken from the Wyndham's interior itself. The Cookham living room is brimming with blowsy flower displays, reflecting the garden outside the French doors; blue velvet upholstery and intricate cornicing bring beauty to a house of utter chaos. There's even a nice nod with the safety curtain, painted with a cherubic Ms Baranski floating in the clouds.

Burns is not attempting to rewrite history here and there is nothing radical or new to be seen. The Bliss family are so bored with their lives and themselves that they have to create drama to pass the time, but we never get to peep below the surface of these motivations. A comfortable and comforting night at the theatre – just don't expect fireworks.

Hay Fever is at the Wyndham's Theatre until 12 December

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