Pet hates

Theatre: Present Laughter, Lyttelton; Moonlight and Magnolias, Tricycle; Dealer’s Choice, Menier

Perhaps it was all a joke. In 1939 Noël Coward wrote a play starring a vain, bullying, self-obsessed, misogynistic diva called Garry Essendine. Himself, that is, with his worst faults exaggerated. He duly took the role into the West End and everyone duly loved him. But all subsequent productions have lacked the magic of Coward’s presence. In Howard Davies’s revival Alex Jennings very nearly manages the impossible and makes Garry’s non-stop narcissism adorable. It’s no dishonour that he doesn’t succeed.

Garry Essendine is the light comedian’s Hamlet. Even the greatest attempts are partial failures. Elsewhere the production isn’t well harmonised. Different decades contend with each other. The costumes and furniture are from the 1940s, and Sarah Woodward (excellent as Garry’s unflappable secretary) perfectly captures the starchy manners of the war years. But Amy Hall’s Daphne is a simpering Marilyn clone of the 1950s and Alex Jennings’s balletic Garry has a short back and sides crowned with lush waves like a 1980s pop star. It’s Tim Hatley’s set that most disrupts the sense of period. Walls rag-rolled in sea-green turquoise would never have graced a Belgravia flat.

And yet his design is clever and extraordinarily beautiful. Gorgeous Bohemian clutter creates an air of stylish anarchy, and the proportions are dramatically foreshortened so that as you gaze at the mirrored walls receding strangely to the rear you get a weird Alice in Wonderland lurch in your tummy. The whole apartment cries out to be exhibited alone. And that’s the problem. A set should suggest the atmosphere but it shouldn’t be the atmosphere. This one, naughtily, wants to eclipse the production and win gongs of its own.

Nonetheless, this is a fascinating play — often for the wrong reasons.