The Stage

The Ministry of Fear

Published Friday 19 March 2010 at 15:55 by Andrew Blades

From the moment the clarinet wails its first glissando, it is clear that Theatre Alibi’s new production of The Ministry of Fear will play with cliche and subvert it. Despite the Gershwin-isms, this is a very English type of noir, its surreal church fetes and arthritic guesthouse proprietors recalling a long history of eccentricity, from The League of Gentlemen back to Python and further to Lewis Carroll. Anyone who appreciates this kind of whimsical humour and relishes a bit of espionage and intrigue should enjoy this production.

A scene from The Ministr of Fear at Oxford Playhouse Photo: Steve Tanner

That said, it is not always as funny as it would like to be. The dialogue is occasionally clipped and there are some needless pauses, ostensibly to wring out the tension from the plot, but effectively dispelling it by letting the pace slacken. Daniel Jamieson has adapted the original novel with subtlety and sincerity, but Graham Greene’s more sombre, symbolic side is often better served by cinematic treatment. Nevertheless, there are some striking visuals - Blitz-torn London is depicted imaginatively, almost photographically, with lots of orange light and a solitary woman pushing a giant pram through the rubble.

Given that the plot is highly confusing at times, these are ultimately the images that linger after the lights have gone up. This is thought-provoking theatre, but in the end you may leave the auditorium thinking you have just woken up from a rather abstruse dream. If this is Nikki Sved’s intention, then she has certainly been successful.