Felicity Kendal and Matthew Kelly leads a rather flat revival of Eduardo di Filippo’s Filumena, ending its tour at Richmond Theatre
“I thought the quicker I marry her, the quicker she’ll be dead”
Previously seen in London back in 2012 at the Almeida with Samantha Spiro at the helm, it has been a while for Eduardo di Filippo’s Filumena. Bill Kenwright Ltd and Theatre Royal Windsor’s production, using an English version by Keith Waterhouse & Willis Hall and led by Felicity Kendal and Matthew Kelly, has been touring the south of England for the last couple of months, its tour coming to an end at Richmond Theatre this week.
It is a curious play, sitting somewhere between comedy and drama without ever landing satisfactorily in either camp and though set in a sun-drenched Naples palazzo, there’s a distinct sense of Englishness. Whether through Waterhouse and Willis’ Anglo turn of phrase, the work of director Sean Mathias or even just the mere presence of Kendal, even with dressed with her Sophia Loren-esque deep brown curls and perma-tan.
She plays the titular Filumena, a strong-willed former prostitute who we first meet (off-stage) on her deathbed. She’s faking it though, having seen her partner of several decades Domenico (Kelly) decide to wed his mistress and guilt-tripping him into marrying her instead as it wouldn’t be for long…. They squabble long and plenty about this once she springs from her deathbed but she has another surprise up her sleeve, she has three secret sons and so Domenico has to decide what to do with this ready-made family that has belatedly come into his life.
Originally a three-act play, there’s a strange sense of imbalance here. A flat opening act makes for a turgid beginning, leading into a sparkier second act once the sons arrive (Gavin Fowler, George Banks and Fabrizio Santino all good fun in their reverse Mamma Mia storyline) but the result is thus an overextended first half. That is then followed by a second half that is only just over 30 minutes with a change of tone that doesn’t really convince as it winds to a tangled conclusion-of-sorts.
Morgan Large’s set design is handsomely appointed indeed though, all Italianate grandeur lit with suitably Neapolitan warmth by Nick Richings. But for all the work on stage, there’s little emotional charge here, too little comedy to make us really laugh and not enough drama to make us really care about all these trials and tribulations in this distinctly old-fashioned production.
