Charley’s Aunt review – a fresh and fun glow-up for Victorian farce

The frump turns fabulous in this new version of a redoubtable Victorian farce. Renovated with affectionate cheek by Rob Madge, it’s a scrappy but very fun take on the tale of dowager dress-up and scheming lovebirds.

Jack (Benjamin Westerby) and Charley (sweetly bird-brained Jonathan Case) want alone time with their beloveds Kitty and Amy (Yasemin Özdemir and Mae Munuo). Even if they evade the girls’ forbidding guardian, decorum demands a chaperone. Charley’s rich aunt doesn’t show, so am-dram fan Babbs is persuaded to impersonate her. Do shenanigans ensue? They certainly do.

Brandon Thomas, a Liverpudlian clerk turned actor, wrote the original 1892 smash. In Madge’s version, the women are no longer bit players in posh-boy stratagems, but every bit as smart and racy as their swains (Kitty, the minx, even waxes her ankles). Crucially, Babbs transforms from silly-ass student to sharp butler: a Jeeves saving the day by climbing into a crinoline.

On a textual level, Madge often doesn’t so much adapt as heckle the original, cheerfully scattering quips, filth and people getting the ick. Some of the most deeply dippy lines are in fact Thomas’s – rhapsodies about Oxford’s ancient spires, random offers of mayonnaise and the celebrated non sequitur about “Charley’s aunt from Brazil – where the nuts come from”. Others are most definitely Madge: “When that royal butler said he’d introduce me to his Prince Albert, that was not what I was expecting.”

Beloveds … from left, Yasemin Özdemir, Benjamin Westerby, Mae Munuo and Jonathan Case. Photograph: Mark Senior

The candy-striped doors and pink icing balustrade on Alex Berry’s set are as toothsome as her costumes: jaunty shorts, florals, lemon meringue frills and lots of bows. Zippily performed, Sophie Drake’s brisk production is kissing cousin to the National Theatre’s current The Importance of Being Earnest – Victorian courtship comedy gets a colourful glow-up, queer tweak and poppy soundtrack. The shows even share a gag about a self-playing piano.

For Gill’s tender Babbs, an afternoon as auntie is a liberation. Settling into a layer cake of ruffle or daring sequinned trousers, they can let their freak flag fly: flirting or gossiping about partying with Gilbert and Sullivan (“the 80s were wild”). “I’m simply enjoying being whatever I am,” they declare.