The Double Act
Arcola Theatre, London

THE eponymous “double act” depicted in Mark Jagasia’s long-awaited second play at the Arcola is a comedy duo, so we might be forgiven for expecting an evening of light entertainment. The central thesis of the work, however, is far more grim. 

The action — or rather the repartee — takes place in one seedy room, in one seedy maisonette in one seedy seaside town somewhere “up North.” Here a long-disbanded comedy twosome meet again after many years apart. They are reintroduced by neighbour Gulliver who — for reasons that become apparent — has invited Billy to visit Clifford whom he describes as unwell. 

The reunion is tricky and any suggestion that the two reunite for a grand come-back — or at least for a token turn in a down-at-heel, end-of-the-pier shack — is fiercely resisted by a still-on-the-circuit Billy who glories in his given title of “Britain’s Third Most Offensive Comedian.”

In real life these characters inhabit a very small stage, any ennobling aspects of the human race seemingly in short supply in their shaky hands. And the back story of each is littered with sleaze and the kind of tacky behaviour that renders them eternal losers. 

In other hands they could be seriously charmless but Jagasia and director Oscar Pearce together bring us an evening of heightened energy and high-pace theatre that holds us in the moment and delivers life as farce.

That Billy’s comedy stems from the cheapest form of prejudice and tribalism is the catch. And the characters shock us so repeatedly we don’t know whether to laugh or cry. In this we all recognise the tenets of the emerging political right: racism, homophobia and misogyny seeming to be the surest laughter triggers for Billy. It’s a serious message behind the comic lightness and an indictment of many famous comedians from our recent past who extolled laughter but cared nothing for what — or whom — we were laughing at. 

There’s a danger here that joyless reality casts a pall but Double Act — as with the writer’s earlier play Clarion — dips into a genre all of its own and the audience pick up on this. Echoes of the greats proliferate: Joe Orton of course and the fierce passion of Trevor Griffiths. Even Beckett comes to mind in the character of Cliff, while the cast deliver splendid high-energy performances and some cracking one-liners. Stirring music introduces each half and there is much to enjoy.

But the play’s big theme is never fully served. The plot (mainly back story) meanders to its end, while the characters, who’ve arrived as fully formed weirdos, never quite move. Nigel Betts as Billy brings us a larger-than-life bully but never develops; Nigel Cooke’s Cliff is a sweetie — if unhinged and with his own particular unsavoury proclivities — and Edward Hogg’s Gulliver is an archetypal showbiz fan with a far-fetched agenda. But a genuine denouement is somehow missing. And, sadly, we never experience the comedians’ actual onstage act, only tantalising talk.  

Nevertheless, an upbeat, dark and vigorous evening, and hugely timely.

Runs until February 22. Box Office:  (020) 7503 1646, arcolatheatre.com