Comic Precision: The 39 Steps

31 October 2013

Criterion Theatre       

4.5/5

If the the term “comic timing,” is often used to evaluate the effectiveness of comedy in theatre, then Patrick Barlow’s The 39 Steps can be appropriately described as “like clockwork.” Adapted from John Buchan’s novel The Thirty-Nine Steps and tracking closely with Alfred Hitchcock’s 1935 film The 39 Steps, the play proceeds riotously as four actors play myriad characters, switching off in a perfectly rehearsed slapstick shtick.

The play focuses on Richard Hannay, falsely accused of murder and drawn into an international conspiracy, played by Adam Jackson-Smith, and the three women he encounters, played by Jennifer Bryden. The comedic geniuses, however, are Stephen Critchlow and Andy Williams, each billed simply as “Man” but playing countless characters.

Critchlow and Williams rollick through the show, whether interacting with each other or with the other characters. They employ various techniques, whether hats, more substantial costume changes, or voice acting, to superb, polished effect. Characters as diverse as policemen, villainous spies, rocks, a savant, or a Scottish couple running an inn are each believable, hilarious, and clearly differentiated in changes often made in fractions of a second.

Jackson-Smith is the only actor not tasked with creating multiple characters. As Hannay, though, he still contributes riotously to the entertainment. Jackson-Smith’s performance is slightly more reserved than the performances of the two men. The amusement of his character is in his playing contrary to an outwardly a suave demeanor. His earnestness in this bravado belies the silliness of his actions.

Jennifer Bryden cloaks the spy Annabella Schmidt in exaggerated German mystery, invests Scottish wife Pamela with youthful innocence and repressed desire, and plays London girl Margaret as a strong-willed ingénue. Her chemistry with Jackson-Smith is superb, both their actions and lines delivered with a sense of easy familiarity. Together with the two other men in the cast, they light up the house with their almost dancelike slapstick comedy. When the time comes though, the picture-perfect romantic finish elicits a cheery smile as the curtain closes.

The production’s one flaw is that the clockwork delivery of the comedy precludes spontaneity, with the entire production almost like a prepackaged product. Design by Peter McKintosh is mindful of Hitchcock’s film, faithfully incorporating each scene but often, as with a miniature train, giving it a witty spin. Director Maria Aitken’s direction takes the show, which draws on lines from the 1935 film, in a direction that, while paying homage to the great director, removes the tone of edgy suspense to focus on relentless, bald humour.

This kaleidoscopic parallel with Hitchcock’s film, turning a subtly comical thriller into an evening of farcical slapstick, might be offensive were it not executed so flawlessly. For a show like this clockwork delivery, brilliant multiple character acting, and a cute finish, far from being trite, are exactly what make for a hilarious evening of theatre.