OUR MAN IN HAVANA AT THE ARTS THEATRE
Famous British writers simply do not come more celebrated than Graeme Greene. His reputation straddles the 20th century, a daring traveller, he thrived on danger ( Russian Roulette was a favourite game when young) and he ran away from Boarding school to begin life as a rebel, a spy a cynic and a superb master of the novel.
The opening scene in this adaptation of ‘Our Man in Havana’ is a hard act to follow – for the audience. It is a fast-paced dynamic story set in a corrupt but colourful Havana in the 50s. The pace is relentless, and the cast consist of only four brilliant actors who swap roles at a lightning speed. Clive Francis’ version compress into fast-action scenes enough to dazzle. Strangely the tone and set are muted, no fall-back on wild Spanish music although the flashes of dance from Jodie Steele as our hero’s 18 year old daughter spread some strangely faint inaudible Hispanic glamour across the set.
The cast is relentlessly inspired. Jack Ashton convinces entirely as Wormold, the vacuum salesman fifteen years in corrupt Havana. By happenstance he falls into the hands of the British Foreign Office, a parody of the sleepy out-of -touch diplomatic service who begin to believe Worlmold’s fanciful claims to run an expenses-heavy undercover team in Cuba - until his plan begins to crumble with disastrous outcomes.
Bob Barret is superb in a riot of parts between which he is almost unidentifiable. A total tour de force of theatrical presence.
Leo Ockenden is a plethora parts from camp bell boy to sinister clubster. A range of acting only matched by Jodie Steel who almost unbelievably plays the (slightly hysterical) daughter, the stripper, the love interest from London and all parts in between
The action is tricky and for all this rich riot of talent, it tends to the flag into the impenetrable.
When it is revealed Wormold’s friend of fifteen years - the German Dr Hasselbacher - is from Leipzig, in the Russian zone, the sinister reality kicks in. The second half is another story. Wormold switches from gullible low-key ordinary to real life ruthless spy. Greene was friends with Ian Fleming and if his hero here is not quite James Bond, he is not far off. He Is willing to kill in revenge whilst he mourns the loss of his old friend assassinated by ‘the other side’. There is humour intensifies in a classic dinner scene where James Wormold avoids his own poisoning -but this Act is certainly more interesting and intense.
London still believe he has discovered an equivalent to the atomic bomb – his drawings of his vacuum cleaners they imagine are hundreds of feet long and several storeys high.
It all ends with a genuinely touching romance with Beatrice fresh from the British FO and an unbelievable dénouement which features the Royal Family.
Colourful crazy but often coarse stay with the miasma of the mise-en-scene and a slow-burn but often intriguing evening lies ahead. Do not be put off Grahame Greene as his humour is often more subtle than this production would suggest.
