Don’t panic, Dad’s Army fans ... this is charming
‘Don’t tell him, Pike.” This immortal line, spoken by Captain Mainwaring to the hapless young Frank Pike after a German U Boat captain demands to know Pike’s name during an episode of the classic sitcom Dad’s Army, was recently voted Britain’s favourite comedy one liner.
And lo, it gets the biggest laugh in this gently amusing 90 minutes in which just two actors recycle 25 characters from Jimmy Perry and David Croft’s much-loved Second World War comedy, which ran on BBC One from 1968 to 1977 and which, if it’s not already preserved in some time capsule somewhere as an unarguable example of a nation’s favourite comedy comfort food, really ought to be. That this Edinburgh Fringe hit, performed with gusto by David Benson and Jack Lane using three original radio scripts by Harold Snoad and Michael Knowles, knowingly plays to an audience who are only there so they can hear again some of their favourite lines scarcely impedes its charm.
Yes, Owen Lewis’s production is the definition of basic – just Benson and Lane dressed in plain khaki in front of two microphones, the only prop a radio “on air” light box. Yet the duo display such obvious love for their material and such virtuoso technical skill that the cosy, lo-fi familiarity of the whole thing becomes part of the fun. In essence, this is an exercise in impersonation. Key to its success, of course, is Lane’s impression of Captain Mainwaring and Benson as Sergeant Wilson. Lane might look nothing like the gimlet faced Arthur Lowe, who played Mainwaring in the original, but as he pushes his lips into a dour, sour, straight line, forcing words out of the corner of his mouth, he absolutely nails Mainwaring’s mirthless self importance. Benson, meanwhile, is a joy as Wilson, all breathy vowels and perfumed languor.
Both switch effortlessly between a vast range of characters. There’s brassy, tarty Shirley and the spivvy Private Walker. Benson has fun with poor old Private Godfrey and with Fraser’s blustery pessimism. I enjoyed Lane’s bumbling, obsequious Captain Jones, forever mangling his words (‘’I’d like you to know I’m under Doris!” “Duress, you fool...”) and his gormless, moon-faced young Pike.
What’s equally impressive is how well the original material stands up. With only their voices for the audience to work with, plus the occasional judicious sound effect (a ringing telephone, invariably from HQ barking orders at Mainwaring), Benson and Lane have to work hard to evoke a sense of provincial England during wartime. That the comedy is also now pretty old fashioned might also have proved a problem. And yet, it works. Partly because of Benson and Lane’s pretty much perfect performances that honour the spirit of the original. Yet also because of the way the scripts quietly but determinedly puncture the characters’ self delusions. None of these men are heroes; nearly all of them, to varying degrees, are fools.
What does remain heroic, of course, is the notion of Englishness that all of them doggedly cling to – the idea that by turning up and doing their bit, something good will emerge. Nearly all their efforts end in a complete shambles. An attempt to impress a visiting American corps end in a brawl. An exercise involving a balloon leaves Jones and Mainwaring dangling in the sky. Their one encounter with the enemy results in the vicar being taken hostage. Benson and Lane carry it all off beautifully. There are flashier, more substantial ways to spend 90 minutes, but I doubt any of them afford such straightforward pleasures.
There are flashier ways to spend 90 minutes. I doubt any of them afford such straightforward pleasures