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There
is a little theatrical gem down on the East Devon coast that is known only to a
few of us. It’s the Sidmouth Manor Pavilion Theatre located, unsurprisingly, in
Sidmouth. Regular readers, I have a few, will know that this is my favourite
seaside place in all of England. John Betjeman quite liked it and renowned
novelist R.F.Delderfield lived here. And further back, 1820 or thereabouts,
Queen Victoria’s dad succumbed to life’s travails just up the road from where
the theatre now stands. I could say popped his clogs but that would be
disrespectful and the one thing you never do in Sidmouth is disrespect. Very
civilised, very beautiful, very calming. And for all of the summer it offers
week after week of differing plays, twelve of them, at the Manor Pavilion.
Producer Paul Taylor-Mills bills it as the last standing professional weekly
Rep in England. He may well be right but whether he is or not I hope he
continues with the late Charles Vance tradition. Sidmouth is very special to me
and many others. Dipping into the Rep on a holiday evening adds nicely to it.
Well
that’s the nice and cosy bit over, now to cut to the Coleman’s. Caught the last
of those twelve plays at the scrag end of the holiday season. Noel Coward’s Private Lives. Seen it umpteen times
and considered a Coward masterpiece, even if for me it slips in a little way
behind Hay Fever. Neither has much of
a plot but the latter has dafter characters. But familiar or not you go to
Sidmouth and just be grateful that the season is still going. I say that
because the Pavilion Rep Company are pretty good, outstanding if you consider
their hectic rehearsal schedule. The sets were sumptuous, especially the
glorious French flat, some of the costumes less so. Elyot and Amanda’s night
attire suggested more modern London bedsit than elegant 1930’s chic. And whilst
I can just about forgive matches for cigarette lighting on hotel balconies I
reckon that upmarket flat would have stretched to a posh and glassy table
lighter. Lit matches jarred.
But
the actors sparred with both verbal and physical aplomb and lashings of
professional pace. Jonathan Ray did a fine job as a slightly manic Elyot Chase,
Hannah Vesty was a spiky Amanda Prynne and Chris Kiely, arms comically akimbo
at every stressful moment, an engaging Victor Prynne. But the best performance
from Coward’s famous honeymooning quartet came from Jessica Kent’s thwarted and
dumped Sybil Chase. She fluttered, posed, and screamed in elegant and equal
proportions. Miss Kent was a well crafted self centred irritant who played her
part to the hilt without ever going over the top. The cast was completed by
Daniele Coombe’s eccentric maid. Her sneezing Louise had clearly been round
the block a few times and the quirky portrayal, suited to this production, made
an indelible mark.
I
am still puzzled as to why a bright summer morning needed internal lights in
Act Three; the lighting was generally so good I can only assume it was
intentional. Andrew Beckett directed with an eye on the physical comedy which would
not totally please the Coward purists. But he did it on a stunning set,
undeservedly not credited in the programme, and with a cast firing on all
cylinders in pace and delivery. A jolly evening from Sidmouth’s little
theatrical gem. And that, as they say, is where I came in.
In 2012 I reviewed the company's An Inspector Calls mainly as a homage to James Pellow, a super Sidmouth player. Unsurprisingly he was not in Private Lives but click on the link above and you can read or refresh my views on him. Revered in Sidmouth and worthy of greater fame. Roy Hall
In 2012 I reviewed the company's An Inspector Calls mainly as a homage to James Pellow, a super Sidmouth player. Unsurprisingly he was not in Private Lives but click on the link above and you can read or refresh my views on him. Revered in Sidmouth and worthy of greater fame. Roy Hall