Reviewed by Ewart Shaw
Pink. Pink. Pink. The set for the Adelaide Repertory Theatre Society’s production of Nana’s Naughty Knickers is pink. Fortunately, director, Barry Hill OAM, keeps his cast busy on stage. Katherine DiSavino’s living room farce would pass for British except for several things that are essentially American and, indeed, pretty much with a New York sensibility and locality. There are so many laughs, you’ll be glad you made the trek into town
If you know The Nanny, you’ll be aware of rent-controlled apartments. This rent-controlled apartment is managed by Mr Schmidt, and he wants it back and on the open market.
Penni Hamilton Smith is Sylvia, the larger-than-life Nana of the title, and she has been running a discreet boutique service for ladies of a certain age. This must be kept from the suspicious Mr Schmidt. Frank Cwertniak brings an air of perpetual bamboozlement to the role and, if sometimes his accent veers Scotland-wards, he’s a fine foil to Sylvia. The story begins with the arrival, for a long stay, of Sylvia’s granddaughter, Bridget Charles, played by Kayla Cranfield.
Bridget has already snared Clinton Nitschke, as Officer Tom O’Grady, and the two of them make an engaging couple. She has trouble finding a car park in that crowded city and tends to double-park, and he doesn’t want to arrest her. That they end up with the apartment to themselves is just right. Add to the mix Chris Galipo, as Sylvia’s best friend, Vera, with a walking frame and deafness, Marcus Catt, as the delivery boy, and Monique Millar, as Heather van Pree, and there you have the mixed drink of farce.
A lot of the fun comes from that old staple of farce, the woman, or in this case, the women, caught with their knickers down, the twist being that these old stagers send up the cliché deliciously, though the arrival of Heather van Pree in skin tight black leather with delightful lace inserts in the calves, is eye-opening. She’s looking for an order that was misdirected. The order contains, among other things, a whip. Her boutique has a very different clientele. A thread running through the action is the heralded arrival of the best customer, and when Therese Hornby, as Claire, arrives at the end, she renders all things well by being married to Mr Schmidt. It’s a delightful, undemanding evening in the Arts Theatre, nicely managed by a highly experienced director with a cast of grandes dames and ingénues.
The set, though painted pink, has a few tricks up its notional sleeve. The goods on display are hidden in cupboards that open and shut, and often at the worst possible moment. Doors opening and shutting are a hallmark of the traditional farce and these play their part well.