The London UK Theatre Review: Fallen Angels at the Menier Chocolate Factory

By Ross

It’s all delicious art deco inside Noël Coward’s Fallen Angels, revived most brilliantly at the Menier Chocolate Factory under Christopher Luscombe’s immaculate direction. The revival arrives as a fizzing, stylish reminder of just how expertly Coward could mix wit, desire, and social hypocrisy into a deceptively light and tasty cocktail. Performed first a full century ago, the play may no longer shock in the ways it once did, but this revival fully comprehends that its enduring pleasure lies elsewhere: in razor-sharp dialogue, impeccable timing, and performances that revel unapologetically in the joy of theatrical play. What results is a production that is consistently funny, elegantly staged, and deeply enjoyable, even as its once-radical provocations now feel more decorative than dangerous.

The premise is completely classic Coward. Julia and Jane, best friends and content, married women, congratulate themselves on having outgrown passion in favour of comfort and companionship. That is, until news arrives of an infamous figure from their shared romantic past. What follows is less a plot-driven comedy than a slow, delicious tightening of the morality screws, as memories are revisited, jealousies flare, and self-deception becomes so increasingly transparent that “a blind goat can see through that“. Luscombe (Lyric’s Home and Beauty) wisely allows the stylish suspense to simmer, and for this theatre junkie, encountering the play without advance knowledge heightens its pleasures: the question of what will, or won’t happen hangs teasingly in the air, sharpening every line and glance hilariously as the evening bubbles toward its farcical crescendo.

At the centre of this delightful production are two superb performances. Janie Dee (MTC’s Linda) and Alexandra Gilbreath (RSC’s Twelfth Night) are gloriously matched as lifelong friends, Julia and Jane. The two capture Coward’s tonal shifts with precision and flair as we joyfully watch their journey from polished poise to champagne-fuelled unravel in a masterclass in comic escalation. Culminating in an Act Two sequence of spectacular drunkenness that is as technically controlled as it is riotously funny, their chemistry and camaraderie are inspiringly irresistible, and their shared scenes crackle with jealousy and affection in equal measure. Around them, the men, Christopher Hollis (West End’s Mamma Mia) and Richard Teverson (“The Crown“) as the cheerfully oblivious husbands, provide solid, straight-faced reactions, rounding out the social comedy like the final measured pour in a well-made cocktail.

Stealing more than just a few scenes is the marvelous Sarah Twomey (RSC’s A Christmas Carol) as Jasmine, or should I say, Saunders, the maid who knows everything, sees everything, and enjoys herself accordingly. Twomey’s performance is a comic delight, delivered with pinpoint timing and physical flair, and she anchors one of the evening’s most inspired transitions: a choreographed, balletic scene change that reshapes the space for Act Two while drawing delighted attention to the artifice of theatre itself. The Art Deco set, designed by Simon Higlett (West End’s Noises Off), and Fotini Dimou’s ravishing 1920s costumes complete the pretty picture, installing a world that feels both luxurious and perfectly attuned to Coward’s brittle elegance and wit.

If Fallen Angels no longer carries the scandalous charge it once did, particularly in its depiction of male outrage at pre-marital affairs, the production leans into the absurdity of that reaction rather than attempting to rehabilitate it. Luscombe opts for fizz rather than excavation, allowing the comedy to sparkle and bubble without overburdening it with contemporary commentary. The result may lack the emotional layering of Coward’s more polished Private Lives, but this production at Menier expertly compensates it all with pace, polish, and a buoyant confidence in his smartly designed language. This Fallen Angels revival is a complete delight: visually sumptuous, impeccably acted, even when the themes have softened with time. Great comic writing still lands with exhilarating force and flavour.