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by Noel Coward, directed by David Schurmann

Shaw Festival, Festival Theatre, Niagara-on-the-Lake

May 23-October 28, 2012

“Youth’s a stuff will not endure”

The Shaw Festival’s is currently presenting a very fine production of Noel Coward’s 1942 comedy Present Laughter.  The story about the travails over twelve days of matinée idol Garry Essendine, modelled on Coward himself, is often played as a simple farce with wittier-than-usual dialogue.  It is still a light comedy and Coward’s self-portrait is humorous for being so apparently negative, but director David Schurmann, best known as one of the Shaw’s most respected actors, has brought out more depth in the play than usual. 

Schurmann notes that the play’s title comes from Feste’s song in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night: “What is love? ‘tis not hereafter; / Present mirth hath present laughter: / What’s to come is still unsure.”  The concluding line is “Youth’s a stuff will not endure.”  Coward was too smart to have chosen such a title without knowing its context.  In Present Laughter while we laugh at how Essendine juggles his eccentric staff, his admirers and would-be lovers, his managers and his estranged wife as he prepares for an upcoming tour of Africa, Schurmann underscores the fact that the actor, who has recently turned 40, is preoccupied with aging.  One of the first things Garry says when looks in the mirror after he wakes up is that he looks like he’s 98 and that if his hairline recedes any further he’ll have to start wearing a front piece. Every time after that remark when Garry passes a mirror, even when he’s in the greatest hurry, Schurmann has him smooth down his hair.  It’s a small detail but one that keeps the theme of aging forward in our mind.

A second theme that Schurmann emphasizes much more than I’ve seen in previous productions is the notion that everyone is acting all the time.  Garry the famous actor is just the most salient example.  As played so wonderfully by Steven Sutcliffe we see all the tantrums and melodrama he plays for what they are but we also see that when Garry tries to be sincere he is still putting on an act of being sincere.  Sutcliffe gives us the sense that Garry keeps his close circle of his estranged wife Liz (Claire Jullien), his long-suffering secretary Monica (Mary Haney), his manager Morris (Gray Powell) and his producer Hugo (Patrick McManus) about him because they know better than he does who he really is.

Yet, even this close circle is given to acting in real life.  Jullien, whose character is a former actress, is expert at giving nothing away even while Liz is calculating what her next move will be to solve the latest mess Garry has got himself into.  Haney is a delight as someone who has seen and heard everything in Garry’s mad household before but will easily go along with whatever plot is afoot to help him.  Powell is excellent as the troubled Morris, who lies outright that he is having an affair with Hugo’s wife Joanna, and indulges in wild gesticulation, that Garry knows is acting, to reinforce his lie.  McManus makes Hugo a less likeable Morris when he coolly lies that he is going to Brussels for business when it is really to be unfaithful to Joanna.

Garry’s two would-be paramours are linking by both pretending to have lost their latch-keys as an excuse to spend the night with Garry.  The first is the debutante Daphne (played as a silly, overemphatic young woman by Julia Course), who has clearly fallen in love with the image of Garry despite her claims to know what he is “really” like.  The second is Joanna (played with sizzling sultriness by Moya O’Connell), who is more interested in causing dissension among friends than romance.  Just as they are not attracted to the “real” Garry, Garry is attracted to what the two women represent –Daphne youth, Joanna one man’s wife and another man’s lover – than who they “really” are.  Schurmann makes the trajectory of the plot clear in showing that Garry must realize that the scurrilous life he leads to give himself the illusion of youth only causes a chaos he no longer has the energy to endure.

The other roles are all well taken.  Jonathan Tan makes the devoté of Garry and would-be playwright Roland Maule seem truly mad.  It’s good that Schurmann doesn’t obscure the sexual side of Maule’s interest since it allows Tan to make the role edgier than usual.  Corrine Koslo is a hoot as Garry’s chain-smoking spiritualist Swedish maid Mrs. Erikson, who is as dutiful as she is incomprehensible.  James Pendarves gives such buoyant life to Garry’s valet Fred, you’d really like to know more about him.  Everyone was pleased to see Jennifer Phipps on stage again as Daphne’s rather clueless mother Lady Saltburn. 

William Schmuck has designed a delightful if slightly outré Art Deco penthouse as the set with view that takes in both Big Ben and St. Paul cathedral.  It looks over-the-top because it reflects the personality of its owner.  Similarly, his costumes perfectly capture the nature of the wearer – sturdy and practical for Monica, colourful but practical for Liz, black-and-white and provocative for Joanna.

Coward himself called Present Laughter a “very light comedy”, but one of the reasons that his comedies have lasted is that the best ring with deeper resonances.  David Schurmann’s thoughtful direction and Steven Sutcliffe’s bravura performance make sure we see the story of a vain man’s farewell to youth beneath the effervescent bons mots and the froth of farce.    

©Christopher Hoile

Note: This review is a Stage Door exclusive.

Photo: Steven Sutcliffe and Mary Haney. ©2012 David Cooper.

For tickets, visit www.shawfest.com.