The circle of fancy chairs adorn the stage.
The displaced triangle of giant red roses that hang above them give off the air of a Victorian séance rather than a well-heeled bachelor pad.
There's plenty of romantic life elsewhere, however, in London Classic Theatre's touring revival of Oscar Wilde's classic romp of reinvention and acquired identity between town and country. Here young rakes Algernon and Jack's wooing of Cecily and Gwendolen becomes more an accidental, if life-changing, voyage of personal self-discovery than anything else.
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Michael Cabot's well turned-out production, which stopped off for a one-night stand at Perth Festival prior to a week of Scottish dates, plays considerably with the politics of scale. Much of this is down to Paul Sandys' diminutive Jack, who here becomes more clown-like than dashing. As an orphan, his insecurity further allows Helen Keeley's taller and quasi-predatory Lady Bracknell-in-waiting, Gwendolen, to appear as though she could simply pop him into her pocket if she so chose to. This is in sharp contrast to the more straight-ahead form of courtship provided by Harry Livingstone's Algernon and Felicity Houlbrooke's Cecily.
Such exchanges as those between Jack and Gwendolen make for a much more heightened and modern Earnest than many heritage edition Wildes, even if sometimes they distract from the polished wit and wisdom of epigrams dressed up as dialogue.
The fact that the show is all but stolen by Richard Stamp as Merriman, the increasingly perturbed looking butler, speaks volumes about a play in which its youthful lead quartet are merely trying identities on for size until they realise who they are.
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