REVIEW: The Hound of the Baskervilles at the Torch Theatre by Sarah Jane Absalom of the Pembrokeshire Herald

What, in the name of God, were Steven Canny and John Nicholson thinking when they transformed Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s beloved Sherlock Holmes into a breakneck farcical marathon, spouting out comic irreverence spoof every step of the way?

The answer, my friends, is probably one of the most rip-roaringly funny plays you’ll ever see in your life.

‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’, currently showing at The Torch Theatre, is structured around a constant accumulation of spoof upon spoof and farce upon farce; three-quarters of the way through, one can’t help wondering if this comedic accumulation is going to combust into ad infinitum. As Holmes himself says, ‘‘Things are getting flippin’ peculiar’.

But if you’re expecting combustion, think again. Instead, this play just keeps on getting funnier. And even Holmes agrees with his quip, “Things are getting flippin’ peculiar.”

During the interval, somebody in the audience tweets that the pace in the first half was ‘asthmatic’ with the result that the threesome decides to repeat the first half all over again…in five minutes flat with the result that this is a production that really has to be seen to be believed.

In many ways, the play is a farce within a farce,and laughs blatantly at the conventions of theatre and mystery. The actors – otherwise known as the triptych trio who magically metamorphose into no fewer than different 15 stage characters – often step out of their character-of-the-moment, and address the audience directly, confirming in no uncertain terms, that this thriller, with its miniscule cast, is falling into utter chaos. This version of Conan Doyle’s much-loved gothic story, often labelled ‘The Play That Goes Wrong’, is a deliberate exercise in theatrical absurdity which the audience adores.

Structured around the skeleton of Conan Doyle’s atmospheric Devonshire mystery telling the tale of the evil beast that prowls the mist-shrouded boggy depths of Dartmoor hunting out the male heirs of the Baskerville family, the Victorian ethos is rampaged over by physical gags, cross-dressing and a break-neck tempo topped off by those 15 adorable caricatures. These include the egomaniacal Sherlock Holmes, the housekeeper Mrs Barrymore ‘who’s always polishing the brass things’, the cross-dressing Cecille who occasionally forgets to zip up her dress and Sir Henry Baskerville who sports a set of muscles to die for.

Who needs props when you’ve got the combined talents of Gareth John Bale (Sherlock Holmes), Jessica Dyas (Dr Watson) and Rick Yale (Sir Henry Baskerville)?

Bale, it has to be said, executes his rollercoaster of characters, costume changes, sharp shifts in accents and untold emotion with an outstanding impact. But despite the incessant madness that his roles require, not once did he become exhausting to watch. The more he gave, the more his audience wanted. My goodness, this man can act. The persona he injects into every single character is exemplary; often he has just seconds to change from Homes to Barrymore or from Cecille to Stapleton, but each of these transitions slide into each other like melted butter off a knife.

Jessica Dyas holds the play together beautifully. Who cares if the fireplace fails to rise correctly and who gives a damn if the stuffed cat goes seriously off target as it transports itself across the stage? When Jessica Dyas is around, you know she’ll manhandle those technical mishaps with an effortless professionalism. This daughter of Haverfordwest may be slight of frame, but her presence on stage is as solid as a rock with those meticulously executed body movements, some subtle but extremely powerful facial expressions and her intricate timing. Her performance was made even stronger by that occasional hint of corpsing, but with a production as manic as this, who the heck can blame her?

Rounding off this mighty trio is Rick Yale, the man who has the leg, arm and chest muscles worthy of special recognition. (Having been fortunate enough to sit in the front row, this fact deserves to be mentioned at least twice in this review. Anyone who shares my opinion, please include your obs in the comments).

Muscles aside, Yale brings one mightily comic and adorable presence to the young Sir Henry Baskerville as he attempts to claim his inheritance with his fish-out-of-water energy in his loud checkered suit. He combines a gorgeous combo of confidence, confusion and sheer disbelief at what’s going on around him and effortlessly throws himself into his characters with charm.

Anyone watching this production should have their tongues placed firmly in their cheeks. This, after all, is a play that doesn’t take itself seriously and whose characters are laughing at the whole outrageous caboodle themselves, with the result that the audience is given one of the strongest performances I’ve seen in a long time. And Thursday’s full-house audience responded continuously with the actors as they wondered what in creation would happen next. This, in my estimation, equates to a five-star review.

 ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’ is playing at The Torch Theatre until October 17.

Image: Media to Motion