Reviews

Within the Gates (Frinton)

What better to mark a theatre’s 75 anniversary season than a special pièce d’occasion?

The smiling face of Frinton's summer theatre new box office.
The smiling face of Frinton's summer theatre new box office.

It's billed as a comedy, but Patrick Marlowe's latest play, set in Frinton in 1937 – which, of course, was when the seasons of summer theatre were first launched – also has strong elements looking back towards the mystery stories of the 1930s, where the plot did not necessarily turn on a multitude of murders.

We are first introduced to Ethel Hargrave (who, for reasons which will become clear later, prefers to be known as Elisabeth Easterby). She is narrator as well as protagonist and comes over as a forceful as well as somewhat devious lady in Natasha Rickman's performance.

As Shelton Maitland (Joanthan Rigby) and Gilbert Weston (Colin Blumenau) discover when she arrives in their bachelor house "within the gates". For those who aren't aware of the significance of the phrase, it designates the established town between the sea and the railway line, intent – then and now – to keep a distance from the johnny-come-lately developments inland.

They are brothers-in-law, linked by Maitland's dead wife who was Weston's sister. Maitland has all the money; Weston is all walking and seething resentment. So, how does Ethel/Elisabeth fit into their story? Blumenau, more familiar to East Anglian audiences as a director and playwright, takes to the character's waspishness with detailed delight.

Rigby spends most of the time in a comfortable arm-chair. Like many another invalid with the power conferred by possessions, Maitland runs sharp rings around his household, which includes a former Army comrade, Tiny. Rigby carries off gleeful sleight-of-hand with aplomb while Edward Max, another face usually viewed in the director's chair, has great fun with Tiny – a looming presence in more senses than one.

I won't spoil the story by telling you what happens in the end. There's a whiff of Great Expectations as well as of Arsenic and Old Lace to be savoured before we're through. Young Autumn Parker as pharmacist's daughter Lydia is a delight and thoroughly deserves her applause.

Also praiseworthy are the clever, Art Déco gauzes which make up designer Martin Robinson's set. It is cleverly lit by Alyssa Tuck. The new draw-curtain divides neatly into Frinton past (beach huts) and present (that wind-farm on the horizon). Max, assisted by Elizabeth Watling, directs.