Fuddy Meers
Arts Theatre Spring 2004

This enjoyable romp from New York has been received with howls of critical disapproval -- and unjustly so. It's a neat little farce that, although it aspires to be more than it is, keeps you entertained and even guessing right to the end.

Claire (Katie Finneran) wakes up in her bed -- or at least she assumes it's her bed, because she has amnesia. A man who says he's her husband Richard (Nicholas Le Provost) enters from the bathroom dressed only in his robe and proceeds patiently to explain to Claire that this is her home. A bored teenager walks in and explains that he's her son, Kenny (John Gallagher Jnr). Richard is happy to answer all her questions except, mysteriously, the one about how she lost her memory.

Barely a few minutes into the action, things are turned on their head as Limping Man (Tim Hopper) bursts in and somehow they end up at her mother's house where a whole gaggle of miscreants and oddballs appear to remind Claire of her past. What starts off as Groundhog Day descends into a rollercoaster ride more akin to Pulp Fiction as it turns out that everyone has a secret to hide.

An unexpected and quite entertaining member of the cast is Hinky Binky, the glove puppet attached to the hand of Limping Man's gormless sidekick Millet, who blurts out the truth whenever Millet clams up. Both are played with manic charm by Matthew Lillard, who has already made a respectable living as of the chirpy youth of innumerable Hollywood movies (Serial Mom, Scooby Doo, etc).

Admittedly there are several good reasons why a West End audience won't have much patience with David Lindsay-Abaire's play. Produced by Sam Mendes' new production company, Scamp Film and Theatre, it's hard to see how this fits in with the trademark "golden boy" fare he once created up the road at the Donmar. Fuddy could never be a truly slick production, hampered as it is by a script that clearly needs another rewrite and an extra couple of scenes to make it the hit it deserves to be.

Another hurdle is that this genre of farce is very American in style and resonance, and really only appeals to British tastes when served up as movies starring Quentin Tarantino and William H. Macy. And, despite the presence of a box-office draw like Lillard and solid stage support from the likes of Julia McKenzie as the supremely dotty aphasic mother (her trauma-induced muddled speech gives the play its title), the cast doesn't hold together -- less the fault of the writer than director Angus Jackson, who is just a notch above pedestrian.

Nevertheless, Fuddy Meers still manages to be a thoroughly enjoyable night out and makes a welcome difference for a presently tired West End.

Nick Awde

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Review - Fuddy Mears - Arts 2004