PRIVATES ON PARADE: Theatre Royal Brighton: Review

In Peter Nichols’s 1977 review-style play with music, we follow the story of an incongruous group of men who entertain the soldiers, sailors and airman stationed overseas in Malaysia in 1948 during the Communist insurgency.

A motley bunch of naïfs and strays, the privates here on parade are mostly gay or ‘gay while abroad’, with the story revolving around the arrival of Private Flowers (Samuel Holmes), a straight man who’s come to join in the fun and games of SADUSEA – Song and Dance Unit South East Asia.

He’s soon taken under the wing of the troupe’s leader, the deliciously waspish female impersonator Terri, played here by Brighton’s own Jason Sutton – better known as Miss Jason – who embraces his part with utter relish and charm.

All swims along as well as it can in a war zone, until the porky Major Flack (Corrie’s erstwhile baker, Eric Potts) decides to set his flock up for a mighty big fall when he sends them into the jungles of the Peninsula ostensibly on a tour of duty, but he and an increasingly distant Flowers have something else planned for them entirely.

Along the way we meet the men who serve their National Service time by donning high heels, wigs, perfume and some very odd dresses all in the name of entertainment. There’s Len (Richard Colvin), a soft Geordie with a Tourettes-like need to swear every third word, and his Medical Corp boyfriend Charlie, who together do a very touching Flanagan and Allen tribute act. Then there’s the butch but slightly dim Kevin (Richard Hadfield), and the sensitive Eric played by promising newcomer Izaak Cainer, who pines for his Susan left at home, only to see his hopes dashed when she runs off to marry someone else.

The only woman in the piece is Sylvia (played by a confident Harveen Mann), the battered and bruised ‘half-caste’ concubine of the drunk Sergeant Major Drummond (Tobey Nicholls), a nasty piece of work who gets his comeuppance even before the end of the first act. She seeks solace with virgin Flowers, who’s only too happy to comfort her to begin with.

Privates is a piece that relies on strong ‘turns’, each character getting his or her time in the limelight, with a highlight of the piece being the revue show – Jungle Jamboree – that the troupe put on in the second half.

Each performance here shines with the requisite brightness, some more than others, all revolving around the 100 watt bulb that is Miss Jason.

He dominates with his camp innuendoes and hilarious impressions of Dietrich, Coward, Vera Lynn and, of course, half woman-half fruit, Carmen Miranda. But he also provides the heart of the piece – he’s the mummy figure, always there to pick up the pieces when things go wrong (and boy, do they go wrong).

His Brazilian turn is made all the funnier by Holmes as Flowers, deadpanning it beautifully by his side, looking mightily bored and shaking his maracas as if by numbers. The eye doesn’t quite know whether to watch his daft comedic performance, or Sutton’s colourful, cheery shimmying. Mine stayed firmly on Holmes but I never could resist a bit of silly hamming.

The biggest turn, in terms of size and booming voice, comes from Potts as the Major, a blustering colonial figure with a disquieting presence and an all too pragmatic approach to war.

His lines get the most laughs

(every time he almost sneezes the Malaya world for jungle – Ulu – he brings the house down), although they also bring the most chills.

This isn’t a play for the faint of heart. Slang words that aren’t used in polite (or even impolite) company these days abound, but see it as a period piece and you’ll be fine. The one thing that did jar was the use of the word ‘gay’ in the homosexual sense which I just couldn’t see being in common currency in the 1940’s even amongst gay men themselves.

Queerness itself is seen as a matter-of-fact way of life,

but don’t forget that this is a 1977 play looking back to the 40’s. I was also left wondering if this was in any way an accurate portrait of life in the British Army then, even in an outré ents division. Seeing as the play is based on the author’s own National Serivce experience, one can only conclude that it must go some way to being so.

There are some things that don’t quite hit the mark in Privates. The scenes of violence are played too quickly and too clumsily, thus not being given the weight they need to give the necessary seriousness to the piece. And it is a serious piece, despite its light and frothy exterior, exploring issues of colonialism, imperialism, racism, and the way soldiers lives can be seen as being so easily expendable. The script here gives us that, but the direction from Carole Todd doesn’t quite.

It’s also a bit slow to get going – the first half could be a bit snappier, the second half a bit more considered, but it’s a difficult judgement call.

Being rather sparse, the scenery does seem a bit skimpy until you think of the period and place being dealt with, and Damien Delaney’s choreography could have done with a little more zip and a little less clunkiness.

That said, Privates is a lovely little show with some nice, rounded performances

and some big, shouty ones too (I sat where the Major comes to sit in the audience to boom at the stage and realised just how much actors have to project their voices!) There’s also some nice arses on show, as well as some very big knickers and some teeny, tiny, barely-there ones, all belonging to the same person – I shall let you guess who!

WHAT: Privates on Parade

WHERE: Theatre Royal Brighton

WHEN: Until August 31, 7.30pm, with Thurs and Sat mats at 2pm

TICKETS: All seats £27.40 (booking fees apply) to book telephone: 0844 871 7650 (£23.50 if booked in person at the Theatre Royal box office)