Round Table India and Ladies Circle India conceived a surefire way to support charity by hosting a star vehicle – Sharman Joshi as a police inspector, unlikely as that may sound. At the same time, they did not sacrifice artistic quality like many other organizers who invite purely showbiz presentations. Joshi’s avowed commitment to theatre places him in a class apart. He proves it by producing the Indian edition of an acclaimed current hit on both West End and Broadway, The Play That Goes Wrong.
This script by Henry Lewis, Jonathan Sayer and Henry Shields belongs to a respectable lineage of “disaster theatre” in which anything that can possibly self-destruct in performance does indeed do so. My favourite example of the genre is Michael Frayn’s riotous Noises Off, difficult to beat in backstage twists, turns, affairs and catastrophes. In the present play, a pathetic small British troupe puts up a silly murder mystery, but things fall apart from even before the curtain rises and turn into pandemonium by the end.
Anyone who has worked in theatre will appreciate it most. Our art depends on precision management every minute behind the scenes to ensure smooth sailing in front of them. We know how at any moment the tiniest miscue can cause domino-effect chaos – all this happening here makes us chortle at the very situations that we dearly hope to avoid, and where our final call of “Strike the sets!” carries a whole new meaning as they literally collapse around the actors, along with the first floor that had tilted precariously like in Chaplin’s Gold Rush.
Most importantly, we feel the profound transience of theatre, where so many artists collaborate laboriously on something creative that must eventually vanish into nothingness. More than the cast, therefore, this production salutes the invisible but indefatigable crew whose efforts block the potential danger to life and limb for all concerned – which we see transparently. The “inept” team here includes an out-of-control sound operator, but curiously excludes lights (for instance, I harbour an abject fear of a spot falling on me). Of course, dialogue mishaps receive their due, hilariously when one sequence must get repeated six times until the butler finally remembers his crucial line. Kedar Shinde directs everything with split-second timing, a pleasure to behold, though it began slowly and childishly.
If only there had been a school show: the guffaws from Kala Mandir would have roused even resting spirits from nearby cemeteries.
(From The Times of India, 7 December 2018)