Magdalen College Auditorium, Tuesday 17th November – Saturday 21st November, 7.30p.m.

“One thing that marred my enjoyment of the play was a frequent fluffing of lines: a few of the actors tripped over Sheridan’s elaborate metaphors and barbed witticisms and garbled their sense”. Review by Kirstin Hollingsworth ★★★★★

“The play offers roles that are rich and laden with heady 18^th century English – thus not for the one-eared listener. Whether it was the particular composition of the intimate crowd that evening, or an overall failure of the language mediating the humour in a timely fashion, the well-rehearsed performance begged for the audience to once again review their lines – lines that consisted of mere laughter at the appropriate moments.” Review by Judith Frodyma ★★★★★

The School for Scandal ★★★★★

Review by Kirstin Hollingsworth

Writing about The School for Scandal in 1819, William Hazlitt said that it was “the most finished and faultless comedy we have”. The most finished and faultless of all the actors in this 2009 production at Magdalen Auditorium was easily Will Spray, who impressed as the disapproving and (nearly) cuckolded Sir Peter Teazle.  His disapproval of his wife’s enjoyment of character assassination with her venomous friends would have been easy to overdo, but a considered restraint combined with his combative, perhaps even slightly tortured, love for his errant wife –combined with the look on his face when she was discovered behind the screen in the company of Joseph Surface- made his character both comic and touching by turns. Jocelyn Knight’s role as benevolent-uncle-in-disguise Sir Oliver Surface was also one of the star performances of the show, while Chloe Wicks as Maria and Hannah Ilett as Mrs Candour both acquitted themselves well.

One thing that marred my enjoyment of the play was a frequent fluffing of lines: a few of the actors tripped over Sheridan’s elaborate metaphors and barbed witticisms and garbled their sense- most notably and disappointingly Claire Mauksch in her final speech as Lady Teazle on her ultimate announcement that she would be dropping out of Lady Sneerwell’s malevolently gossipy “school for scandal” at the play’s finale. Additionally, her New York accent, while otherwise winning, was out of sync with the rest of the actors’ use of eighteenth-century “posh” voices. The only other fault to find was with Kushaal Ved’s disconcerting performance as Moses, the stock money-lending Jewish usurer. When he first walked on he was apparently playing a blind character as he appeared to be staring at everything and seeing nothing. However, that the production chose not to sanitise Sheridan’s use of this figure by changing his ethnicity was a bold move.

The play was also brightened by Anna Milne’s sparky Trip, the footman who wants to borrow £20 from Moses. Overall, this pleasant modern production is a credit to its cast and crew, who made thoughtful use of student drama’s limited props, stage-hands and financial resources. The use of a stage at the same level as the audience made for an unusually intimate play (at times I looked away, slightly embarrassed, after catching an actor’s eye), and scenes of physical comedy, such as the night of revelry led by Amyus Bale’s charismatic Charles Surface, or the attempted bundling-out of Sir Oliver by his two unwitting nephews, were superbly done.

The School for Scandal ★★★★★

Review by Judith Frodyma

Surely a twenty-first century audience could find much to relate to in a late 18^th century comedy of manners. Sheridan’s piece focusing on the fickleness of appearances, reputation and guises in a scandal-mongering society might have easily been transposed to the front pages of The Sun or Daily Mirror. “Talebearers are just as bad as the talemakers,” remarks Isobel Whitting as the gossip-spreading Lady Sneerwell, in an interesting reflection on the playwright and the actors themselves.

Here, a nod must be made towards the casting director, an absent figure in the program but a crucial one nonetheless. The phlegmatic and peevish Sir Peter Teazle was done justice by Will Spray – a man now “half a year on the stool of repentance” but nonetheless still passively in love (with quarrelling with) his wife. Delivered with a pleasant languidness and a comfort with the language that few of the other characters mastered, Spray made the role appear rather effortless. As for Lady Teazle, Claire Mauksch’s non-Englishness was initially distracting and very apparent (contrasted, for example with the perfectly delicate and nonchalant English Rose Chloe Wicks as Maria), but did not hinder her total performance. On the contrary, the same crassness and ignorance that is often identified with those from across the pond only added to her increasingly annoying country-bred character. Mauksch did a wonderful job in making her character as unpleasant and unlikeable as possible, by carrying an excessive vanity in her lavish distaste in fashion. However, her performance was tinted with brief moments of self-consciousness that ever so slightly gave her away.

Radoslav Lolov as Joseph Surface shared a few intimate moments with Mauksch, but not without the discomfort of being discovered. His portrayal of a guilty conscience hiding behind the guise of honesty fooled only Sir Peter, and was skilfully done. Rowley, a relatively minor character, was portrayed with the warmth, kindness and comfort only a truly loyal servant would have to his master – it seemed as though Samuel Buchdahl would carry the same sentiments with him backstage. Calum Mitchell as the aptly named Benjamin Backbite – self-absorbed poet-clown with an impossibly prepubescent voice proved men are just as ravenous for gossip as women, even to the point of quarrel and violence. Jocelyn Knight demonstrated his talent by distinguishing acting as Sir Oliver from play-acting Sir Premium and Sir Stanley. But it was Amyas Bale as Charles Surface, charming as he was candid, who provided anything but a superficial performance – believably dashing, until the very end.

The play offers roles that are rich and laden with heady 18^th century English – thus not for the one-eared listener. Whether it was the particular composition of the intimate crowd that evening, or an overall failure of the language mediating the humour in a timely fashion, the well-rehearsed performance begged for the audience to once again review their lines – lines that consisted of mere laughter at the appropriate moments. It is no debut that the cast was talented, but perhaps the twenty-first century audience would not mind a modernized remaking of Sheridan’s classic, because scandal never dies – even though this audience did approve.