Noises Off

Michael Frayn

• Editorial: Methuen Drama
• Año: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781350155183
• Edición: 1
• Categoría: Mezzi di comunicazione e arti performative
• Categoría: Scrittura di pièce teatrali

If we can just get through the play once tonight for doors and sardines. That's what it's all about. Doors and sardines. Getting on - getting off...that's farce. That's the theatre. That's life. Michael Frayn's irresistible, multi-award-winning backstage farce Noises Off, enjoyed by millions of people worldwide since it premiered in 1982, has been hailed as one of the greatest British comedies ever written. Winner of both Olivier and Evening Standard Awards for Best Comedy, this celebrated play-within-a-play serves up a riotous double bill of comedic craft and dramatic skill. Hurtling along at breakneck speed it follows the backstage antics of a touring theatre company as they stumble through the dress-rehearsal at Weston-super-Mare, then on to a disastrous matinee at Ashton-under-Lyne, followed by a total meltdown in Stockton-on-Tees. Frequently revived around the world, this new edition of the text was published to coincide with the acclaimed 2019 West End revival.

Act One

The living-room of the Brents’ country home. Wednesday afternoon.

(Grand Theatre, Weston-super-Mare. Monday 14 January.)

From the estate agent’s description of the property:

A delightful 16th-century posset mill, 25 miles from London. Lovingly converted, old-world atmosphere, many period features. Fully equipped with every aid to modern living and beautifully furnished throughout by owner now resident abroad. Ideal for overseas company seeking perfect English setting to house senior executive. Minimum three months’ let. Apply sole agents: Squire, Squire, Hackham and Dudley.

The accommodation comprises: an open-plan living area, with a staircase leading to a gallery. A notable feature is the extensive range of entrances and exits provided. On the ground floor the front door gives access to the mature garden and delightful village beyond. Another door leads to the elegant panelled study, and a third to the light and airy modern service quarters. A fourth door opens into a luxurious bathroom/WC suite, and a full-length south-facing window affords extensive views. On the gallery level is the door to the master bedroom, and another to a small but well-proportioned linen cupboard. A corridor gives access to all the other rooms in the upper parts of the house. Another beautifully equipped bathroom/WC suite opens off the landing halfway up the stairs.

All in all, a superb example of the traditional English set-builder’s craft – a place where the discerning theatregoer will feel instantly at home.

Introductory music. As the curtain rises, the award-winning modern telephone is ringing.

Enter from the service quarters Mrs Clackett, a housekeeper of character. She is carrying an imposing plate of sardines.

Mrs Clackett It’s no good you going on. I can’t open sardines and answer the phone. I’ve only got one pair of feet.

She puts the sardines down on the telephone table by the sofa, and picks up the phone.

Hello . . . Yes, but there’s no one here, love . . . No, Mr Brent’s not here . . . He lives here, yes, but he don’t live here now because he lives in Spain . . . Mr Philip Brent, that’s right . . . The one who writes the plays, that’s him, only now he writes them in Spain . . . No, she’s in Spain, too, they’re all in Spain, there’s no one here . . . Am I in Spain? No, I’m not in Spain, dear. I look after the house for them, but I go home at one o’clock on Wednesday, only I’ve got a nice plate of sardines to put my feet up with, because it’s the royal what’s it called on the telly – the royal you know – where’s the paper, then . . .?

She picks up the newspaper lying on the sofa and searches in it.

. . . And if it’s to do with letting the house then you’ll have to ring the house agents, because they’re the agents for the house . . . Squire, Squire, Hackham and who’s the other one . . . ? No, they’re not in Spain, they’re next to the phone in the study. Squire, Squire, Hackham, and hold on, I’ll go and look.

She replaces the receiver.

Or so the stage-directions say in Robin Housemonger’s play, Nothing On. In fact, though, she puts the receiver down beside the phone instead.

Always the same, isn’t it. Soon as you take the weight off your feet, down it all comes on your head.

Exit Mrs Clackett into the study, still holding the newspaper.

Or so the stage direction says. In fact, she moves off holding the plate of sardines instead of the newspaper. ...