★★★★☆
Have you heard the one about the Englishman, the Frenchman and the American who all shared a bed in a Terence Rattigan play? You haven’t? Well, I’m not surprised.
During his lifetime this farce set in wartime London had the most successful West End run of all his plays. Yet for the past 50 years it has hardly been seen.
I can’t think why. It’s hilarious. Or, at least, this production directed by Christopher Luscombe is. The set (by Robert Jones) is the sitting room of young Lord Harpenden’s chambers in Albany, Piccadilly. It’s luscious to look at: dark red walls, a convocation of family portraits and, those staples of all farce, an over-pillowed sofa, a ringing telephone and two doors to slam and