Fallen Angels review – Sizzle-fueled lust drives cheesy comedy that was almost taboo | platform

SSome revivals really need the drama of their original setting. Noël Coward’s comedy of female infidelity (Wishing) is one such play, first performed 100 years ago and now revived as a period piece that offers an insight into the mores of the day – and Coward’s courage in confronting bourgeois morality. The film was so shocking then, and so entertaining now, that it was almost banned by UK censors, with its interwar ‘two girls behaving badly’ on a night before and a sad morning after.

All of Coward’s preoccupations are here, from disillusionment and distance in marriage to sexual longing and betrayal—even if the latter goes unfulfilled. Except now two women are planning it together. The play begins at the home of Julia (Janie Dee) and Fred Stroll (Richard Teverson), over breakfast, when a notice of divorce is read in the newspaper. A sign of things to come?

not quite. Tough friends Julia and Jane (Alexandra Gilbreth) spend the day together while Fred and Jane’s husband, Bill (Christopher Hollis), goes on a golf trip. Little do the men know that their wives are preparing to meet Maurice, a Frenchman with a sexy mustache and an old flame for both women, and whose memory reignites all the unspent carnal desire in their marriage.

Entertainingly directed by Christopher Luscombe, it builds on comic drunkenness, cross-dressing phone calls and Restoration-style comedy chaos right up to the marital reckoning – and the appearance of Maurice (Graham Vick) himself, who until late in the day was an elusive Godot-like figure.

It’s not as rich as Blithe Spirit or Private Lives, and it’s a bit of a note, but it’s flawlessly executed, with shades of 1920s screwball comedy and excellent turns from Dee, who plays Julia as a cheerfully bossy, and Gilbreath, who becomes more talkative and vulgar as she deflates the bubbles. Both women suffer from middle-aged malaise, and the play’s final note of the rebellious spirit does not quite restore the old marital order.

Coward wrote additional material for the play in 1958, expanding the part of the maid Saunders (Sarah Twomey) that had been included in this production. She’s an absolute hoot, and turns out to be a skilled dancer, French speaker, pianist, and established speaker.

This beautiful set, designed by Simon Higlett, is another highlight, with all the Art Deco details intact, along with the elegant costumes (silver Mary Janes, beaded dresses, drop-waisted dresses) designed by Fotini Demo.

So it’s a nugget of dramatic history and a lesser-known early play by Coward—and it serves as an ending to the Orange Tree Theatre’s recently revived trilogy of late works, Suite in Three Keys. It is worth watching for sheer enjoyment.