As daft and delightful as a pink meringue, Sandy Wilson’s 1954 pastiche of jazz age entertainments is a fine antidote to our vicious times.
The romances it conjures for privileged British sojourners on the 1920s French Riviera are only briefly jeopardised. Wilson’s music, dialogue and lyrics paint an airy, dizzy, sunny world with occasional passing cloud.
The dancing in Matthew White and choreographer Bill Deamer’s production is scintillating, and some of the singing sublime. The comedy is knowing but never arch. Above all, this celebration of innocent, delirious youth is politely stolen from the grown-up stars (Janie Dee as the maitresse of a finishing school, Adrian Edmondson as a dissolute toff) by younger members of the cast.
Silver-voiced Amara Okereke is our ingenue Polly, Dylan Mason her hesitant beau Tony. They’re both charming. But they have competition from the eyelash-fluttering of newcomer Gabrielle Lewis-Dodson as Maisie. Her partner Jack Butterworth is also a fearsome hoofer, but the young men’s roles here are even more ditzy than the twittering girls’.
Paul Farnsworth’s set is sketchy, his costumes splashy, while the band led by Simon Beck is watertight. It’s all terrifically silly and frivolous but, my God, it’s good fun.
Until March 7 (020 7378 1713, menierchocolatefactory.com)
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