Review – The Rivals

Author: Richard Brinsley Sheridan

Director (and adaptation): Tom Littler

Venue: The Arts Theatre Cambridge

Performance: 3 January 2026

The Rivals, written by Sheridan and first performed in 1775, was his first major success. Tom Littler has cleverly adapted and updated the play to Bath in the roaring ’20s, giving it an unmistakable Wodehouse flavour. The tone comes across beautifully, complete with Charleston, nightclubs, bright young things, and plenty of fizzing period glamour.

The story suits this new setting perfectly: a tale of thwarted lovers and social muddles. The young Captain Jack Absolute (Kit Young) disguises himself as “Sergeant Beverley” in order to woo the wealthy heiress Lydia Languish (Zoe Brough). Lydia, having read one too many romantic novels (much frowned upon by the older generation), is determined to marry the impoverished Beverley for love, and the idealised vision of virtuous poverty. Several other men are also setting their caps at Lydia, and a whirl of misunderstandings follows as the various suitors prepare to battle for her hand.

Young and Brough have excellent chemistry. Young is debonair and charming, with a dash deceit as he navigates the plot’s twists and complications — and watch out for the hilarious bath scene.

The play opens with a glamorous nightclub singer in a flapper dress performing a period-sounding musical number. The set is stylish Art Deco: dark, with gold zig-zag patterns framing three sides of the stage, and a faded map on the wall. Scene changes are heralded by the clatter of a typewriter and a sign above the stage, letting us know whether we are in a restaurant, house, shop and so on. The transitions become part of the entertainment, with the cast shifting props using Charleston-style choreography. Movement throughout is beautifully handled by Leah Harris, whether in scene changes or full club-dance sequences.

Lydia is kept firmly in check by her aunt, Mrs Malaprop, who, maintaining the tradition of not educating young women, substitutes the wrong words in her efforts to appear clever, producing faux pas and double entendres a-plenty: “He is the very pineapple of politeness!” Patricia Hodge is seamless in her portrayal of the fearsome guardian, never ceasing to remind Lydia that she will lose her fortune if she marries someone inappropriate.

Her perfect foil is Sir Anthony Absolute, Jack’s father, played as a bluff old codger to a tee by Robert Bathurst. Whether charming Mrs Malaprop or admonishing his son, he blusters through every scene, determined to get his own way — and to marry his son to the heiress.

The supporting cast play servants, friends and rivals, including the awkwardly anxious ‘Faulty’ Faulkland (attached to Lydia’s cousin Julia) Bob Acres, a country bumpkin with more confidence than sense, and Lucius O’Trigger, an American fancied by Mrs Malaprop.

The costuming is sumptuous: from Lydia’s silk pyjama ensemble (though I did wonder whether she might have dressed more formally to be introduced to a new suitor) and her stunning red dress, to the sharp period suits, blazers, and country attire. Hodge’s costumes are divine, ranging from a bright cerise ensemble to softer peach that suit her character perfectly.

The result is a 1920s rom-com with musical interludes, a Wodehouse vibe, witty dialogue, and misunderstandings galore – a sparkling, stylish production that makes a classic feel fresh, playful, and thoroughly entertaining.

Photo credit. Ellie Kurttz