Ben Madilynn
“This house makes Dracula’s castle look like tea at the vicarage,” says one of the relatives that have converged to hear the reading of a distant relative’s last will and testament. It’s Mel Brooks meets Agatha Christie in Told By An Idiot’s co-production at Chichester’s Minerva Theatre, and it marks the final production of the 2024 festival season. The thunder crashes, the screams pierce and lots of laughter make for a great season finale.
John Willard’s The Cat and the Canary may well be able to lay claim to being one of the first of the spooky house genre, mysteriously assembling its victims on a dark and stormy night. There have, of course, been many others since its premiere on Broadway in 1922, and there have been multiple stage and film adaptations of this one in particular. Bob Hope famously starred in what was its third silver screen outing in 1939, following its silent movie beginnings. A ridiculously high-camp B-movie version later made a splash in 1979 with the late great Honour Blackman amongst its British cast.
Carl Grose’s adaptation cranks up the comedy macabre, whilst director Paul Hunter ratchets up the absurd. An energetic and physically boundless ensemble of nine then unapologetically have the time of their lives as they recount the melodramatic tale of Cyrus West. The wealthy eccentric has died some 20 years earlier but has made his descendants wait to find out who will inherit his estate. Only if the descendant is dead, or if there are any “mental disruptions” will the inheritance go to a second choice. Thereby hangs the plot, thinly blowing in the storm on Bodmin Moor, about as lightweight as the canary in the title.
That’s not to say that this isn’t immensely enjoyable though. Hunter – also Told By An Idiot’s artistic director – is a master of comic business and physical nonsense. He brilliantly creates atmosphere and absurdity out of very little. Angela Davies’ set design is functional and effective if not entirely elaborate in scale, but a nice mix of projection (Leah Bierman), puppetry (Lyndie Wright) and lighting (Aideen Malone) all contribute nicely to the storytelling without being overused.
A masterly comic performance from Nick Haverson is the standout of the night. Playing a number of different characters, he commands the stage with his ludicrously over-the-top rendition, all helped with the use of a false beard that isn’t always where it ought to be. Hayley Carmichael is a dedicated servant of the deceased who feels the evil in the air with a hilariously downbeat delivery that proves the point that not all comedy has to be big.
Lucy McCormick’s Annabelle is all nervous contortions as the fear of the escaped “omnicidal maniac” terrorises the gathering. Calum Finlay’s nice-but-dim Paul and Will Merrick’s conceited Charlie also bring an energetic fervour.
There are plenty of moments when proceedings all get a little shouty and lines are lost in the chaos. Haverson’s reappearance is always welcome after those moments when the stage is without him. There is also a cheeky cameo by a familiar face who was resident in this very theatre not too long ago as the long-deceased Cyrus (I won’t reveal who).
It’s far from subtle and it’s hardly intellectual, but it’s damn good fun and is a solid ending to what has been another fine festival season at Chichester.
