Omar Malik, Ashna Rabheru, Tamzin Outhwaite and Pandora Colin in Abigail's Party at Stratford East. Credit Mark Senior.The reason Mike Leigh’s play became such a cult classic was always Alison Steadman’s central performance as the bored and self-centred housewife who through her husband’s work ethic has never wanted for a new frock, make-up, stereo, three-piece suite and a rotisserie — although realistically she would struggle to thaw a frozen pizza in the 70s kitsch cult classic.
Here on Peter McKintosh’ garishly appropriate set, we first discover Beverly through a small window at the centre of the pre-set‘s brick edifice. As it rises to reveal the brightly patterned wallpaper of a suburban living room, Outhwaite is atop a coffee table, dancing seductively, smoke rising around her as she writhes in her cleavage-enhancing floaty full length dress. No one is left in any doubt from the outset, that this is her stage.
Married to fastidious estate agent husband Laurence (Kevin Bishop) he presents as a tense and henpecked sycophant for his wife to instruct as she prepares herself for the intimate party to welcome a new couple to the neighbourhood. Shrewish nurse Angela (Ashna Rabheru) cannot understand why former Crystal Palace footballer Tony (Omar Malik) married her, and by the end, the audience is struggling with this conundrum too. Meanwhile Beverley thinks tall, handsome, bearded Tony is terrific and flirts outrageously with him as the free-pouring gins and tonic, and Bacardi and Cokes, begin to lower everyone’s inhibitions. Laurence however, remains uptight and begins to challenge Bev’s choices in music (Demis Roussos and Elvis Presley) and engages is stuffy and embarrassing conversation about art with divorcee Sue (Pandora Colin) the final cast member, who has accepted the party invitation having been excommunicated from the family home down the road by her 15 year old punk daughter Abigail, who is hosting her own raucous party.
At the start of the second act there is a stylised montage in which Beverley acts as puppet master and it adds immeasurably to the theatricality of the piece. Gradually the sense that this party is more a soirée for the damned takes hold, and even excessively polite Sue succumbs to a surfeit of gin on an empty stomach mixed with peanuts and cheesy pineapple ones. As conversation and behaviour descend below the levels required to maintain suburban politesse, things begin to unravel.
Every cast member acquits themselves marvellously — no small feat given the levels of concentration required to deliver subtle reactions without overstatement in response to the gaudy goings-on. Nadia Fall has directed an hilarious revival of a much-loved classic which stays true to the original whilst breathing fresh life into one of the most monstrous central characters ever written.
