Friday 21st March 2014 by Will Langdale
Dirty Rotten Scoundrels can be summed up in a single word: fun. It is astonishingly fun. It is unexpectedly, entertainingly, bawdily, tenderly fun. Around 10 minutes into Dirty Rotten Scoundrels I discovered that a smile had crept across my face, and 2 and a half hours later it had refused to budge. I came away from it like you come away from a good meal: full, sated and warm in the knowledge that you just had a really good time.
Robert Lindsay and Rufus Hound are a pair of mismatched conmen out to swindle their way around the French Riviera, and in particular the “American Soap Queen” Christine Colgate (Katherine Kingsley), whose money and affections they vie for. Lindsay’s a dapper, aging British Casanova, and he plays the part with enough humour and humility to offset the character’s amusing mile-wide streak of arrogance. Hound strikes an excellent balance between a brash American streetwise idiot and a sort of earnest and loveable manchild, a balance no better illustrated than a wonderful scene where he attempts to persuade himself that he still wants wealth rather than love in “Son of Great Big Stuff”. The chemistry between them is great to watch, and they make for an extremely funny pair of protagonists.
One downside to musical comedy is that the inevitable slow songs lack emotional sincerity because the narrative isn’t crafted to draw you into the intimate, heartfelt concerns of the characters – you’re there to laugh. Dirty Rotten Scoundrels sidesteps this problem magnificently. Most of the slower numbers are short, and include jokes and asides that keep the tone well away from being overly sincere, which is extremely welcome. One of the show’s running jokes is that one of the only kind and genuine characters, played wonderfully by Samantha Bond, is consistently silenced and cajoled from the stage – sometimes by the scenery itself – when she shows signs of being a touch too dewily earnest. Bond is definitely at her best when opposite John Marquez as the Chief of Police (and his suspect French accent), and the pair are a delight, even at their sappiest.
The self-awareness is just one of the ways for Dirty Rotten Scoundrels to tickle you, and the show never lets up on comedy, be it physical or verbal. In terms of timing it’s faultless – the show takes effortless care to make sure there’s never a dull moment. There’s a bit of suspect taste here and there, such as a sequence where Hound pretends to be Lindsay’s neuroatypical brother, but overall the show sticks to straight up raunch, and does it very well.
All in all Dirty Rotten Scoundrels sets out what it’ll be in no uncertain terms within the first few minutes, then proceeds to more than amply deliver on that promise. It sounds great, it looks fabulous (Peter McIntosh’s set design in particular fits the Savoy Theatre to a tee), and it guarantees a fantastic night out – Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is every bit as entertaining as anything in the West End right now. See it.