Review: MR AND MRS NOBODY, Jermyn Street Theatre

Mr and Mrs Pooter have just moved to their new home in Holloway from Peckham, much to the Mrs P's dismay. She tries her best to be "a dutiful wife" and he is the model Victorian husband. But are they,really? English writer Evelyn Waugh once described George and Weedon Grossmith's novel The Diary of a Nobody as "the funniest book in the world". The Pooters have gone on to have quite an onward life over the years, and have finally landed at Jermyn Street Theatre in an effervescent revival of Keith Waterhouse's Mr and Mrs Nobody. (The play premiered on the West End in 1986 starring Judi Dench and her real-life husband, Michael Williams.)

Miranda Foster and Edward Baker-Duly are the happy couple who do little more than quibble all day. From her never-ending battle with the train tracks at the bottom of their garden to his luscious Victorian dad jokes, Gabriella Bird directs an understated and elegantly funny performance bursting with subtle and timeless bickering.

As the audience is made privy to their diary entries, we notice the discrepancies and priorities of the two, and even the most mundane recollections are turned into tasty comedy. The juxtaposition of their contrasting approach to situations sits at the core of the evening, and their argy-bargy is simply delectable.

Solid humour masks a dash of Victorian hypocrisy, and the Pooters turn into slaves of vanity. Foster and Baker-Duly couldn't have more charisma. He laughs at his own quips and although he swears he doesn't generally make jokes, it's quite the opposite - and they're hilariously unfunny.

Foster's Mrs Pooter meets his antics with sarcasm (which he takes as praise) and hides a soft devotion to her husband. He reciprocates the feeling, lamenting the fact that he can't share his latest wit with her while she's staying at a friend's after their latest argument. The pair delight in being part of the society papers and entertaining guests, revelling in judging their acquaintances and showcasing their (lack of) singing talent.

Bird's production is enhanced by Louie Whitemore's refined set design. The furniture is covered by dust sheets at the very start, like ghosts lying in wait. White curtains are drawn over a black brick background, and the Jermyn Street Theatre's tiny stage suddenly feels huge and airy.

While there's a bit of hesitation between the two actors here and there (might it be nerves due to a return to live theatre after a year of 'rona?) it's not enough for the casual patron's eye to spot and the duo recover in a heartbeat. Their deliveries are crisp and their comedic timing is typically very quick.

Mr and Mrs Pooter is closer to a sitcom than anything else at the moment and should take pride in that. It's sharp-tongued and will give you a chuckle even as it shows that marriage squabbles haven't changed that much.

Mr and Mrs Pooter runs at Jermyn Street Theatre until 31 July.

Photo credit: Steve Gregson

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