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The UN Inspector is a deceptive comedy. With few, if any, moments of pure, unadulterated slapstick, the play hurtles from breezy farce to horrific tragedy and back, giving the audience the uncomfortable feeling of wanting to laugh and cry 鈥 one after the other, and at the same time. The drama, performed here in York by the Youth arm of the Theatre Royal, is set in a small, post-Soviet 鈥榙emocracy鈥, where the President (John Holt Roberts) rules with an ironically nostalgic iron fist. He and his smiling, smartly dressed cronies aren鈥檛 obvious stage villains. Their corruption is exposed, however, as we see them fall over themselves to save face before foreign visitor and hapless British businessman Martin 鈥楻emmington鈥 Gammon (Oliver Tattersfield) 鈥 mistaken for the dreaded UN Inspector. It鈥檚 a classic impostor story, but one with a modern, satirical twist, allowing for some brilliant set pieces; from Gammon鈥檚 drunken monologue about his dreamt up connections (鈥淚 was on Big Brother with Pinter!鈥) to the President鈥檚 self-congratulatory speech on his daughter鈥檚 impending marriage, which continues in his office onstage, while he ignores the sounds of gunshots dispersing the screaming crowds off it. | "Despite the cast鈥檚 relative youth... they perform in the roles of corrupt capitalists and statesmen as if they鈥檝e been taking backhanders since birth." | |
I haven鈥檛 seen Gogol鈥檚 The Government Inspector (the master play on mistaken identity from which David Farr鈥檚 script is adapted) and so I can鈥檛 weigh in on the debate over whether this adaptation 鈥榙ilutes鈥 the original. There doesn鈥檛 seem anything watered down about the York Youth Theatre鈥檚 production, however, as despite the cast鈥檚 relative youth 鈥 one has the impression of sixth formers for whom school uniform and the suited attired of business men and government officials are interchangeable 鈥 they perform in the roles of corrupt capitalists and statesmen as if they鈥檇 been taking backhanders since birth. I was particularly impressed by their adopting of a device used in the original London production, whereby the characters speak in Yorkshire accents when they鈥檙e speaking in their native tongue, but slip into a cheesy eastern European accent when speaking to Gammon in English. There were some distinctly unprofessional moments, such as when the President鈥檚 maid managed to spill a peculiarly fruity-looking 鈥榳ine鈥 over Gammon鈥檚 arm, instead of into his plastic glass, (some of the actors had to stifle their laughter) but in general, it was a sturdy performance. I look forward to seeing more of the Youth Theatre鈥檚 work in the future. Jo Shelley | 
