Noises
Off: A Play in Three Acts
Michael
Frayn
I
must begin with a confession: I have an annoying habit of
over-thinking things (see, for example, this blog), including my
perennial choice of first book of the year. But even if I do fear the
impact that a dull- or, perish the thought, bad-
opener will have on my next twelve months of literary conquests, it
is an irrational apprehension with no satisfactory solution. All of
this is a long-winded (see "over-thinking", above) way of
saying that I picked up Michael Frayn's Noises Off
on a whim after reading a summary of a cinematic adaptation, despite
knowing little about theater. I do, however, deeply appreciate the
concept of farce, the quintessential spirit of British humor, and the
opportunity to pull back the curtain on an operation. Luckily, this
was sufficient to allow me to enjoy Noises Off,
a satirical look at the gradual, but ever-accelerating, unraveling of
a small traveling theater company during a production of the
imaginary play Nothing On.
I
usually find myself slightly worried about my ability to adapt to the
peculiarities of written drama, given the inherent differences
between plays and prose, but if Frayn's work is any indication, these
adjustments needn't be painful or even particularly noticeable. With
a surplus of humorously stated stage directions and a group of
supplementary program notes from its play-within-a-play, Noises
Off works well solely as a
printed text. Both the framing narrative and the fictional play are
often laugh-out-loud hilarious, relying as they do on simple
misunderstandings and ample helpings of dramatic irony. Nonetheless,
much of the humor of Noises Off-
and, indeed, of Nothing On
within it- comes from the physical location of the actors and the
fast-paced juggling of various props, which can be difficult to
follow without a visual aid. And though this did detract a bit from
my reading experience, it successfully piqued my interest in the
play's visual aspects and ensured that I will keep an eye out for
performances within a reasonably drivable radius.
Still,
the play does have its limitations. The characters in both Noises
Off and Nothing On
are relatively cliché, a problem somewhat exacerbated by the fact
that each of them is distinguished primarily by a different degree of
aloofness rather than by any deeper traits. While this may result in
part from Frayn's conscious decision to imitate and satirize the
traditional bedroom farce, it doesn't help the reader make sense of
one character's seemingly unprecedented descent into a sudden,
jealous rage in Act Two; we have only the other characters' overly
expository dialogue to guide us, where even a few bits of stray
dialogue in Act One could have at least laid the barest foundation.
This hasty characterization contributes to the overall farcical tone
of the play, for both better (the play itself convincingly mirrors
that which it engages) and worse (simplified characters are more
difficult to fully appreciate, even when the intended reaction isn't
wholly serious or straightforward).
Likewise,
the plot's eventual descent into complete madness may be read either
as a successful emulation of the general form or as a frustrating
oversight. The general structure is excellent, as the reader views
the interpersonal relationships as they begin to fray during a final
rehearsal, rapidly deteriorate during one fateful matinee, and come
completely unhinged in the (mercifully) final performance. Frayn's
use of the play-within-a-play is utterly genius at times: by
seamlessly weaving the entire first act of Nothing On
into his own Act One, he ensures that readers fully appreciate each
subsequent change, both subtle and entirely bizarre, that come later.
The slapstick, who's-on-first (and, more pertinently,
where-are-the-sardines) nature of Noises Off
and Nothing On
overlaps perfectly during Act Two, when readers helplessly watch the
players simultaneously do their best to rescue a live performance
while suffering from their own exaggerated (but no less hilarious)
mishaps and misunderstandings backstage. Frayn's interweaving of
actions in Noises Off
and Nothing On is
nothing short of brilliant, especially given the intricate,
delicately poised network of comings and goings that drive the
latter. The humor of Acts One and Two is almost effortless despite
many moments of inherent silliness, marred only by the reader's
inability to trace the physical locations of players and props
without significant visual assistance.
It
is a shame, then, that Noises Off
goes slightly off the rails in its own third act. While the natural
progression between the events of Act One and Act Two is appropriate
and obvious- as is the series of mishaps that characterizes the
fast-paced, blink-and-miss-it action of the middle-frame, the gap
between Acts Two and Three is impossibly vast. Some clumsy dialogue
clues readers into some newer points of tension, alongside those that
linger from the first two acts, but it is not enough to sufficiently
bridge the gap. Frayn's intentions are obvious, but the third act
becomes increasingly detached from the first two, resulting in a
climax that is somewhat painful to read given the effortless genius
of the first two extended scenes. The play becomes somewhat
preoccupied with itself and its farcical ambitions, to its immediate
and unfortunate detriment, and the end simply doesn't hold up to the
precedent established mere pages before. Nonetheless, the humor is
accessible even for those who are unfamiliar with the intricacies of
modern stage productions and the play has a timeless quality about
it, holding up perfectly nearly forty years after it was first
conceived. The first two acts of Noises Off
are among the funniest pieces of fiction I can recall reading
recently and, thankfully, carry the day despite a weak finale that is
destined to disappoint.
Grade:
B+