I had something of a dilemma at the weekend. On the one hand, I’ve got a heavy cold that I just can’t shake, and was feeling really grotty, so I wanted to have a really quiet weekend and snuffle my way through it with strepsils, mugs of honey&lemon, and boxes of extra-soft tissues. On the other hand, the local theatre was doing an Alan Ayckbourn double bill of plays I didn’t know – Invisible Friends and Woman in Mind. In the end, I decided to compromise, and went to just the afternoon matinée performance of Woman in Mind.
Although it was advertised and the tickets sold through the main box office of Malvern Theatres, the play turned out to be at the Coach House Theatre next door. I’d never been there before, and although I’d read about it in the local paper, didn’t know exactly where it was. For the record, you go through the pay’n’display car park right next to the main theatre, past the public toilets, and the Coach House Theatre is tucked away at the bottom of the car park. It’s a small performing space, with space for about 70 people in the audience in a very intimate little theatre. Tea, coffee and biscuits are served at the interval in a little tea room to one side of the main stage. It’s the main home of Malvern Theatre Players, the amateur company associated with the theatre, and they also let it out to third party hirers. That seemed to be the case in this instance – the double bill was being put on by the Dick and Lottie Theatre Company, who are an amateur company based in Huddersfield, specialising in Ayckbourn plays.
I’m always a bit suspicious amount amateur theatricals – they can be very patchy in quality. But I have to say that this one was absolutely excellent, and only the ticket price and small audience gave it away as a non-professional production. The actors were uniformly excellent. The plot centre around Susan, a middle-aged woman who was deeply unhappy in her marriage to a priggish and unloving vicar, was estranged from her son who had joined a cult, and had her deeply unpleasant sister-in-law freeloading off them. So when she stood on a garden rake, knocked herself out, and came round with massive concussion, it wasn’t surprising that she fantasised about an ideal substitute family – a wealthy and adoring husband, a dutiful and loving daughter, and a helpful, jolly younger brother. However, as Susan started losing her grip on reality, the fantasies became more and more real, until they were taking over in real life.
In many respects it was a typical Ayckbourn, with darkness underlying the humour – in this case the darkness came from Susan’s dysfunctional family and her descent into madness. But there was humour on top of that – a bumbling doctor, and some very witty dialogue that had the audience laughing out loud. Despite my heavy cold, I enjoyed myself very much. Now that I know where the Coach House Theatre actually is, I must make a point of keeping an eye out for what they have on.
