The Improvisors, a Wellington Theatre Troupe debuted at Centrepoint, Palmerston North last night.  The performance began at 6.30pm.  A reasonably healthy turnout of audience came to watch.

The basis for the production is an early twentieth century aristocratic family and their servants.

The audience is tasked with giving them some everyday occurrences to fit in with the plot.  

Interestingly, chosen for this performance is a missing body (unusual choice for an everyday situation in one’s home), a physical twitch, a jury summons, an item of clothing (a scarf) and someone from Spain (Ole!) 

With a few minor awkward moments at the beginning the actors build up to a cracking pace, aided by their quick wits, broad skill set and accents, plus a musician’s accompaniment assisting with sound effects.  The laughs come readily from the audience. 

So the upshot of the antics at Uptown: a potentially promiscuous daughter of his Lordship, an amorous Spanish Ambassador’s son who gets a bit too keen with said daughter one night in the upper upper room.

She strangles him with his scarf.  She gets help from her female cousin and they stuff him up the chimney. Tick off list for both the missing body and the scarf. The Spanish Ambassador turns up to look for his son.  Tick for hilarious Spaniard.

The Dowager in the meantime has been summoned to London as a juror. She makes quick work of the court system and returns the same day.  Sadly the case was so distressing she has developed a twitch.  Two more ticks. 

No two shows will be the same.  Loud applause for The Improvisors and their retinue of characters.

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As the show edges towards starting I take my seat and chasten myself for not having seen any of Downton Abbey. In spite of having partaken of similar programmes, a certain anxiety runs through me as to whether there will be any hidden layers, jokes and allusions that will elude me. I set all of this aside as the show progresses – the show takes its cues from the genre of British period drama and while awareness of social mores and major historical events helps to shape appreciation, the humour isn’t dependent on any of that.

The lights finally dim and with that come sounds of protest and resignation from backstage. Maisey the maid (Deana Elvins) bustles out to greet us chattily and conversationally extract the provocations which will serve as tonight’s ingredients. The integration of the provocation process and adherence to the integrity of theme is well managed. Much of this is cheerfully framed as coincidence – “oh, well you’ll actually see that in tonight’s show!” Anachronisms (both at this stage and in the performance) are wryly reinterpreted or misheard to fit the pot. 

What is cooked up is a tale of dramatic convolution and mystery. At Upton Downs, the Twattington household is unsettled with young Miss Pamela Twattington (Julie O’Brien), who is very spoiled, demanding her missing scarf. Her father, Lord Twatington (Kenny King) is more concerned about avoiding his son, Sir Robert (played by the same), who is the subject of his displeasure. All this adds complication to the life of Castrate the butler (Mark Wright).

Downstairs, the staff is occupied with a blocked chimney in the ‘upper upper room’. Meanwhile, Lady Dowager Twattington (Ian Harcourt) must journey to London, summoned by the Queen – well, the King on behalf of the Queen, now dead – to serve on a jury. Scandalised, she disguises herself as a man to avoid recognition and sets forth to render justice with a guilty verdict should the defendant prove lower-class, or acquittal for the upper-class. Chaos ensues with scheming footmen, sneaking maids, and conspiratorial friends.

As Interval is announced I have no doubt that a certain amount of narrative alignment and redirection is about to be negotiated backstage. 

Chaos resumes and soon brings with it the sudden arrival of the Spanish ambassador (Wright). It is only with the Dowager’s return in a mild state of sensational shock, twitch manifest, that events are untangled. Revealed is the account of a certain continental gentleman forcing amorous advances on the young lady of the household, leading to a fatal mishap and the secreting of his body (most of it; a limb or two is relocated) in the chimney – where it would have been discovered by his father, the Spanish ambassador, if not for Grumbles the groundskeeper’s (King) unconventional employment of ferrets for cleaning blocked chimneys. The missing scarf may have given the game away, and blackmail seemed likely but is thwarted it the end.

One of the things I love about improvisation is its haphazard sprawling playfulness. Offers are made, taken up and pruned. They often overlap, providing a variety of opportunities to develop and satisfy the provocations gathered from the audience. It is unfortunate when a good offer is made but overlooked or blocked, or where plot threads wither on the vine. But this underscores the perilous nature of improv, and the moments where everything comes together are wonderful. 

As a troupe and individually, The Improvisors are impressive. The troupe are responsive to events on and off stage. Their experience is demonstrated when dealing with incidents such as cast stumbling at an exit or the audience member who clomps in late from the interval. These are handled with quick wit, drawing them into the narrative logic of the story.

Their collective ability to generate humour and narrative from both the provocations and offers provided is considerable, but not without mishap. The initial sketching out of the plot is ungainly at times and some criminal blocking is committed but these moments are quickly overcome. The action is also humorous from the outset which pardons a great deal. 

In part due to the fateful scarf, not all of the characters played by the same improvisor are differentiated by costume. Beyond a measure of good humoured confusion, the troupe do well in pushing the limitations of the stage, establishing identity through clear and colourful characterisations, body language and delivery. This is where the individual strengths of the improvisors shine through.

Cam Crawford’s musical overlay and sound effects skillfully heighten the experience and craft a great deal of the scene. 

Deana Elvins and Julie O’Brien both capture the audience’s attention, bringing an immediate energy to their scenes and establishing their differing characters with banter and self depreciation. Elvins exudes a confident presence that does well to undercut some of the action, while O’Brien’s physicality and accents bring colour and spectacle to her exchanges. 

Kenny King and Mark Wright embody their characters consummately: King’s body language rendering his roles in caricature; Wright’s repartee bringing a great deal of humorous depth to his scenes. 

Ian Harcourt is a wry delight, developing the plot with humour and depth. His dowager brings a hilarious commentary on class consciousness and sensibilities with a touch of playful anxiety. 

Improv can be somewhat of a concoction but as Grumbles points out, “It’s the grit in the oyster that makes the pearl.” The Improvisors give it their all, providing a farcical evening bedecked in the finery of bathos and caricature. 

Downton Ad-Lib runs for one hour and forty-five minutes, including a fifteen minute interval. At a very reasonable $20 a seat, it is great evening at the theatre and well worth attending on more than one night. After all, no two shows will be the same.

worth attending on more than one night. After all, no two shows will be the same.

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The ebullient Deana Elvins – who will play Maisy the maid (downstairs) and Lady Virginia Simpleton (upstairs) – welcomes us and garners the ‘ask fors’ that will determine the improvised plot for Downton AdLib’s Episode Eight, set in 1926:
Something that drives you made at work: not stacking the dishwasher properly;
A vegetable: a pumpkin;
An ambition: to run a marathon;
A household appliance: a jug;
News received by letter: your taxes are overdue.

And so it begins. The doddery old fart who can barely climb one step turns out to be Kenny King’s Lord Nigel Twattington, who seems at least as old, if not older, than his mother, the Dowager Countess Ursula Twattington, played with perfectly-pitched class-conscious tunnel-vision by Ian Harcourt. (Is it Crimea or gin that has aged him prematurely? Or is it the latter which has preserved the Countess so well?)

Lord T (the elder)’s infirmity, however, adds comedic jeopardy to his desire to tick ‘running a marathon’ off his bucket list. That he trains literally on the back of his personal valet, Smythe (Simon Haren) creates excellent physical comedy.

It emerges that much has happened at the Twattington’s estate at Upton Downs near Twatford in the 14 years since Theatreview first visited. There has been a ‘Great War’ for one thing, at which young Lord Ernest Twattington (Jimmy O’Donovan) apparently won a VC. Yet the love of his father, Lord Nigel, still eludes him. His desire to win the marathon to make his father proud and thus earn his love creates a strong through-line for the episode.

That said, the father/son antipathy does bring King perilously close to blocking offers on more than one occasion. Most of the time, however, they manage to make the character’s negativity advance the plot all the same.

It should be noted that although each episode is 100% improvised – as proudly asserted in the programme – key elements established in each episode are carried through as back-story in subsequent episodes. At interval the young women next to me, who have seen all seven previous episodes, express admiration at the quality of the continuity.

Of course dishwashers in 1926 were human so it is Deana Elvins’ Maisy who obsessively deposits stacks of dishes around the garden “to air them”. Julie O’Brien, who delivers a redoubtable housekeeper in Mrs McGee, doubles as an undercover journalist from The Women’s Monthly, desperate for the scoop that will prevent her losing her job. This thread provokes appropriate horror at a woman even having such a (gasp) job.

Simon Haren also doubles as Christopher from the Tax Office. And it is a new maid, Dorothy, played by Grace Bentley, who masterminds and ingenious plot involving pumpkin soup served in a jug. And Kenny King’s doubling as Grumbles the gamekeeper generates fun with the need for quick changes, not to mention his herding a hoard of hens.  

Other highlights include: the Dowager Duchess’s refusal to converse with anyone to whom she has not been introduced (a handy way to ignore the tax issue); Smythe’s serial bedtime story for Ernest (The Hare and the Tortoise); the glorious array of running styles as all the character get into training for the marathon; the actual race in slo-mo; the journalist’s lust-at-first-sight for Ernest and its eruption from unresolved sexual tension (UST) to a most undignified flailing of limbs …

Cam Crawford’s music and sound effects, Uther Dean’s responsive lighting changes and their combining to render multiple outbreaks of thunder, lightning and torrential rain, enrich the proceedings enormously.

The dire prospect of losing generations of class privilege and wealth to the government is miraculously (and far too easily, some might say) averted, thanks to judicious manipulation of the given circumstances – leaving all set up beautifully for next week’s final episode: Downton AdLib Christmas Special, to which special guests have been invited.

Improv as good as this is like a quality magic show in that it leaves us wondering how on earth they achieved such theatrical alchemy.

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It’s a favourite among improv performers and their audiences, to take a literary, theatre, film, or television drama and present a new format or long-form improvised show based on the style. Celebrating their Silver Jubilee this year, the Improvisors have chosen to parody British period drama, exploring the lives of an aristocratic family and their servants, in DOWNTON AdLib—obviously a play on Downton Abbey but the show is also taking cues from programmes such as Upstairs Downstairs.

We are greeted by the performers in the lobby dressed in period attire: suits, furs, and white aprons. Once ushered inside the theatre, Maisy (Deana Elvins), the family maid, introduces us to the Twatingtons of Twatford and piques our interest in “the things” she’s seen in the household in a typical lower class gossipy manner. She asks us to excuse her “pan lower class” accent which provides a great deal of humour and almost excuses the muddle of accents that all the actors adopt throughout the show.

As with most improvised formats, our hostess, Maisy, asks the audience for information to supply the content of tonight’s performance: an issue you might face at work, a charity or cause, and finally an object. First up, someone yells “sexual harassment”. Maisy laughs and immediately accepts the suggestion without comment or response. I immediately turn off to the show and this reaction is confirmed throughout with the distasteful treatment of an issue that has historically caused a lot of pain to women (and men). I don’t go to the theatre for this. I expect much more from these artists. I’m disappointed that I expect a fun night at the theatre and end up with a “very middle class” (i.e. in poor taste) – to use Downton Abbey words – representation of an important issue.

The charity given is the “SPCA” and the object is a “cell phone” to which Maisy cleverly responds, “By this, I think you mean telephone.” (I note that here, as opposed to earlier, the improviser can easily handle the potentially problematic ask-for.)

From here, the episode begins with a cast of four male actors: Ian Harcourt, Simon Haren, Jimmy O’Donnovan, and Jonathan Price; and two females: Deana Elvins and Julie O’Brien. All of them play multiple characters in the drama.

Tonight’s convoluted plot shows Ernest (Jimmy O’Donnovan) attempting to run the estate in the absence of the elusive Lord Twatington with advice from his grandmother, the Lady Grandmaam (Ian Harcourt in drag) and his aunt Virginia (Deana Elvins). Among Ernest’s blunders are installing a telephone in every room in the manor, consequently bringing the estate to the brink of bankruptcy with a tremendous power bill, and turning Twatington into cat shelter for 70 something stray cats to escape the rainy weather. (The use of cats of course provides numerous “pussy” references.)

Downstairs, head butler Epsom (Jonathan Price) is jailed for murdering the family cat Mittens (and/or stealing money – it’s unclear) and carries on an illicit liaison with Pamela Twatington (Julie O’Brien). All of this eventually ends in the creation of a cat-horse monster, constructed in a Frankenstein-like attempt to resurrect cats from the dead, that terrorises the estate but ultimately winds up as a hunting trophy upon Lord Twatington’s return.

Despite its absurdity, the aristocracy-hating cat-horse monster named Satan is actually very funny, and they even manage to weave in a Gareth Morgan reference. 

The humour excels, however, when the content comes from the genre /style itself such as Ian Harcourt’s impersonation of the matriarch Lady Grandaam – very Maggie Smith – or the listing of the numerous rooms in the house (parlour, library, drawing room, late afternoonish room etc. . . .). To this end, watching the characters struggling with new technology is also a treat. The highlight of this is Simon Haren’s series of repeated prank calls to the house on the new telephones as the Lord Twatington, Ignatious the Priest, the King, the Kaiser, and even Woodrow Wilson.

Craft-wise, I wish for a deeper exploration and engagement with the genre. No sense of world – essential for period drama – is evoked. Though the actors are having fun (always a plus), they often aren’t listening to one another, dropping characters, and talking over each other. There is not a great sense of connected ensemble: essential for sustaining improvisation of this length. 

Despite this, Jonathan Price works hard at clarity and holds many of the plot-threads together. He is the most successful at playing several roles effectively by distinguishable characterisation and committing to his points-of-view/motivations. His mime is also very good, which is important in a genre that is so much about place and environment. 

Finally, I really enjoy Cam Crawford’s skilful music: the theme tune, the telephone rings, and all the orchestration which masterfully punctuate the underlying drama.  

DOWNTON Adlib runs an hour and thirty minutes including a ten-minute interval with a second round of audience suggestions to inspire the final half. It runs for eight more shows with a Christmas special (which is a really nice idea). Many of the audience seemed to be having a jolly time, and no doubt will return to see how the rest of the season plays out.

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