Noel Coward is best remembered for sparkling comedies such as Private Lives and Blithe Spirit, but The Marquise offers audiences a fascinating glimpse of the playwright at the very start of his career.
Written when Coward was just 20 years old and long considered a lost work, The Marquise has been revived in a production that reveals many of the qualities that would later make him one of Britain’s most celebrated dramatists. Touring to the Theatre Royal Bath this week, it is an elegant, witty and thoroughly enjoyable evening.
Set in Paris in the 1920s, the story centres on the glamorous Marquise Eloise, whose carefully constructed world is thrown into turmoil by the sudden reappearance of a former lover and a long-hidden secret. What follows is a deliciously tangled comedy of mistaken identities, romantic misunderstandings and social embarrassment.
The plot occasionally creaks under the weight of its farcical twists, but that hardly matters. Coward’s dialogue sparkles with intelligence and wit, while the characters display the sharp observations of class, reputation and human folly that would become hallmarks of his later work.
The cast embrace the material with obvious affection. The performances are stylish and assured, capturing both the sophistication and absurdity of the Jazz Age setting. The ensemble work is particularly strong, with excellent comic timing throughout and a genuine sense of fun that proves infectious.
There are excellent performances throughout the production, led by Juliet Aubrey as the sophisticated and enigmatic Marquise Eloise de Kestournel. Aubrey commands the stage with effortless elegance, perfectly balancing the character’s poise, vulnerability and sharp wit as long-buried secrets threaten to unravel her carefully ordered life.
Equally impressive is Simon Shepherd as Raoul de Vriaac, whose assured performance brings warmth, charm and impeccable comic timing to the role. Shepherd skilfully captures both the character’s romantic sincerity and his capacity for mischief, making him a compelling presence whenever he appears on stage.
They are ably supported by Tristan Gemmill as Esteban Duco de Santaguano, who relishes the larger-than-life qualities of the character. Gemmill delivers a performance full of confidence, charisma and humour, contributing significantly to the production’s lively pace and sense of fun.
The cast is completed by Eva O’Hara as Adrienne, Albie Marber as Jacques Richard, Barnaby Tobias as Miguel, Martin Carroll as Father Clement, Holly Smith as Alice, and Lee Peck as Hubert.
Together, they create a believable and engaging ensemble, ensuring that Coward’s sparkling dialogue and intricate plot are delivered with both style and clarity.
The production benefits from handsome period costumes and an attractive set design that evokes the glamour of 1920s Paris. The attention to detail helps immerse the audience in a world of cocktails, couture and carefully guarded secrets.
While some of the themes inevitably feel rooted in another era, the play’s exploration of love, deception and social expectations remains surprisingly fresh. Coward’s youthful confidence shines through every scene, even if the writing occasionally lacks the polish of his later masterpieces.
What makes this revival especially rewarding is the opportunity to witness a young writer discovering his voice. There are moments when one can almost see the future Coward emerging: the razor-sharp one-liners, the satirical eye for upper-class pretensions and the effortless ability to turn emotional complications into comedy.
Director and cast wisely avoid treating the play as a museum piece. Instead, they allow its humour and humanity to speak for themselves, resulting in a production that feels both historically interesting and genuinely entertaining.
For Coward enthusiasts, The Marquise is an essential curiosity. For those unfamiliar with his work, it serves as an engaging introduction to the talents that would later define one of Britain’s greatest playwrights.
Elegant, charming and frequently very funny, this rediscovered gem proves that even an early Noel Coward play possesses more wit and sophistication than many writers achieve in a lifetime.
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