Hay Fever

Overview

Set in an English country house in the 1920s, Noël Coward’s Hay Fever is a comedy of errors about a bunch of bohemians who play act at life. In Rosane McNamara’s production at the New Theatre, a handsome troupe of actors gives a rollicking rendition of the farce.

Retired actress Judith Bliss (Alice Livingstone) deals with the dreariness of the country by turning daily life into a grand drama. Her family knows the score and graciously oblige as her supporting cast. Guests to the country house take slightly longer to comprehend the rules.

There’s nothing wrong with frivolous plays — watching beautifully dressed people say witty things can be extremely enjoyable, but this production could do with a good lick more shine. The costumes fall on the gypsy side of bohemian and the set is extensive but unpolished. Similarly the accent work could be a notch tighter. In a play about surfaces, minor details become major and the casualness of the design elements in this production is immediately noticeable.

You could argue that staging Hay Fever in 2013 is pertinent as a social critique of the hypocrisy and self-importance of middle class creative types, but Coward’s text doesn’t hold up to that kind of time travel. This is more of a quaint peek at a time gone by when people spoke delightfully and wore gorgeous things.

That said, there’s still a lot to admire in the performances. Tess Haubrich is fantastic as the charismatic, direct Myra, guest of Judith’s son, Simon. Haubrich’s accent is polished and she effortlessly shifts gear between temptress and affronted prude during her frisson with Judith’s husband, David (James Bean).

Livingstone pulls off the eccentricity of a self-involved fading beauty with a fine swag of histrionic gestures; a trembling hand here, a raised eyebrow there — she is warm and funny, though slightly too jocular at times.

Hay Fever is good, entertaining drama, and with a bit of a spruce in the costume department, it could really sparkle.

Image by Bob Seary.