Abigail’s Party – Curve, Leicester

Mike Leigh’s Abigail’s Party views 1970’s suburbia through the eyes of five neighbours who come together for drinks one evening whilst the titular Abigail is having a party at her mum’s house across the road.

The show is colourful and vibrant thanks to the exquisite stage and costume design of Peter McKintosh. The show is set in Beverly and Laurence’s house which is artfully wallpapered in funky orange patterns whilst a teak bookshelf houses records, books and kitschy paraphernalia symbolic of the decade.

The room itself is surrounded by a lightbox which draws the eye away from the stage wings and into the centre of the action. It also acts to compress the space, heightening claustrophobic undertones of the piece.

Beverly is resplendent in a flowing yellow gown that outshines the other guests who arrive at the soiree under the impression it was a more casual affair.

The play itself, however, lacks the wow-factor of the design. Abigail’s Party is set up as a slice-of-life, pressure cooker play: The sort of play that builds and builds the tension whilst examining a part of life (in this case lower-middle class 1970’s suburbia).

However, although the play builds tension it doesn’t do much with it. There isn’t a twist that releases the tension in a shock. The ending seems disconnected from the rest of the play in that it doesn’t recontextualise what we have already seen, nor does it offer any real commentary on it.

Although the show is a comedy, I don’t find it that funny (though, I will admit, many in the audience were laughing throughout). The use of the word rape as a repeated cheap gag feels dated. Although it was written in 1977, this production misses the opportunity to shine a light on this sort of humour and to critique it. Instead, this humour is presented in a way to get laughs out of a modern audience, in a way legitimising and encouraging it.

It handles other topics better. By casting British-Asian actors in the originally white-British roles of Angela (Lauren Patel) and Tony (Omar Malik), the comments around the increasingly “mixed” and “cosmopolitan” nature of the neighbourhood are starkly critiqued and faced head-on – a good choice by director Nadia Fall and casting director Amy Ball.

To the cast’s credit, the show has some strong performances. Tamzin Outhwaite is electric as Beverly with glorious use of movement. The highlights of the show for me are the starts of Acts 1 and 2 where Outhwaite dances around the stage in a fantastical choreography (James Cousins is movement director) and, in the latter act, manipulates her guests like a power-crazed puppet master.

It is in these moments that the play shows what it could have been. In these wordless dances, we learn so much about the inner-psyche of Beverly, how she views the world and those around her. Outhwaite in those moments is so engaging it is impossible to look away. It is a shame this character exploration isn’t expanded further or deeper in the rest of the play.

Kevin Bishop’s Laurence, too, has glimmers of internality which I would love to have seen explored more. Bishop is at times wonderfully subtle with his tone of voice and movements, allowing us to catch brief glimpses of what he really thinks.

There is good chemistry between the cast. I enjoyed the comic timing between Patel’s Angela as she tries to comfort divorcee Sue (Pandora Colin), who clearly wants to be anywhere else. And Malik provides strong characterisation with relatively few words to Tony, Angela’s husband.

Perhaps the play has had its heyday, or perhaps it just isn’t for me. Either way, there is still enjoyment to be had in the artistry of the show’s design and the charisma of its cast.