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October/November 2003
IT isn’t often that a society builds its own rather splendid,
albeit slightly noisy, revolve for a show, but neither is it often that in the
course of one production we see someone ski down a steep slope onto the stage,
or fly off it on a rope ladder. And how about the table that whizzed off,
seemingly of its own accord?
Very unusual happenings, you may think, but then
this was an equally unusual show, a kind of amalgamation of musical, play and
Mills and Boon-type novel. It centres on John (Simon Sketchley, struggling
manfully through a severe cold) and his assistant, Mary (Jane Howell), who are
working on a dull book about the life and times of a pre-Raphaelite rogue. But
each, unknown to the other, is also writing what they hope will be a popular
romantic novel – and, as they write, the characters come to life in what is
often hilarious fashion.
Although the production seemed a little ragged round
the edges at times, the prompt’s voice was heard a little too often and the
writers’ own budding relationship was slightly underplayed, its very quirkiness
made it fascinating and there were some lovely characterisations from the
25-strong cast.
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