Dear Martin, Arcola Theatre.We first encounter Dave (Ben Simpson) in the throes of an agitated moment, pitched somewhere betwixt an emotional meltdown and a supremely silly hissy fit. It is through this intro, we gradually learn that his lack of self-esteem has caused him to assume the victim’s role in life - largely at the hands of his unfulfilled and dissatisfied wife (whom we never see but who is occasionally heard wailing or whining).
Before long, the reason for Dave’s immediate discombobulation becomes clear. He has found his wife’s stash of sexually charged letters from Martin (Alex Mugnaioni) an oily but disarming psychopath and inmate of a high-security prison facility. Discovery of the correspondence eventually leads to a meeting between the two men at which a pact is reached. Martin will call-off his postal-fling and steer Dave towards behaviours which will potentially reignite his marriage, in exchange for Dave’s help in convincing the facility’s no-nonsense psychiatrist that he has made a friend and would therefore make an ideal candidate for rehabilitation at a more relaxed institution.
The set-up is largely an excuse for Martin’s moustachioed intellectual to espouse his superiority in everything from cryptic crossword solving to bedding, manipulating (and perhaps dismembering) those whom he encounters. Mugnaioni has the stronger opportunities to land rapier observations and caustic barbs in his delivery of Martin, who bears more than a passing resemblance to the cadlike Terry-Thomas in a clutch of post-war films like School For Scoundrels.
The biggest laugh on press night came as a result of one actor drying and requiring the assistance of a line from prompt corner. The momentary ad-lib which resulted, was both hilariously handled and managed to thoroughly alleviate any awkwardness within the confines of such an intimate venue. More unnerving, was the moment when Amelia Donkor’s frosty and intractable psychiatrist betters Martin in a verbal exchange, during which he likens himself to a caged tiger momentarily allowing his mask to slip, revealing the dangerous and barely suppressed monster beneath the suave and self-assured exterior. Usually to relieve the tedium he mocks his captor or sneeringly denigrates the ignorance and physical appearance of a fellow inmate Ben Edward Judge who manages a nice line in gullible and endearing sychophant.
Wiebke Green directs her small troupe of actors through the tricks and traps of this wordy little gem played out on a very simple white set with matching table and chairs to infer the sanitarium setting.
Plays at the Arcola until 29th March.
