★★★★
The Met has met its match in this scathing, modern adaptation of Italian duo Dario Fo and Franca Rame’s farce by Tom Masden. Scorching in its scrutiny of Scotland Yard, and so timely and present with its script that it gives the impression of being hot off the press, the satire remains sharp and astounding as it bursts onto the West End for its third staging.
Daniel Rigby (of One Man, Two Guvnors and Black Mirror’s “The Waldo Moment”) plays a character known only as the Maniac in an awe-inspiring, animated fashion. He’s being interrogated by an Inspector Burton (Mark Hadfield) over the – you guessed it – death of an anarchist who met his untimely demise through the window on the fourth floor of a police building. Officers say it was accident brought about by a ‘raptus’ (an obscure term meaning a sudden psychological episode which can induce suicidality); the Maniac, over the course of two hours, suggests otherwise. It’s a compelling ‘whodunnit’ as much as it is outrageous slapstick – even when the ‘who’ becomes painfully obvious…
Equally striking in this fantastically full-circle production is the motif of happiness to sadness. In its opening, Rigby sports a sinister smile before dropping it for a look of disdain. As he’s dissecting the police’s false account of events, he scrawls happy and sad faces onto the wall of Anna Reid’s office design. It also speaks to the tone of the piece as a whole, as the Maniac puts on a variety of wacky costumes and accents to embed himself in the theatrics, while also peppering his dialogue with multiple damning statistics about misconduct proceedings and prosecution rates and references to cases such as Sarah Everard, Nicole Smallman and Bibaa Henry.
There’s a method to the Maniac’s apparent unpredictability which is masterfully managed by Rigby, who is remarkably receptive to both his fellow cast members, and to the audience (particularly latecomers). So dynamic is his delivery that at times it’s hard to keep up, and warrants the purchase of a playtext if you want to fully appreciate his endless criticisms, though at the same time, there’s a lot to dissect and think about after curtain call – not least the chilling final image the show leaves the audience with.
Sure, we certainly don’t need reminding that the Metropolitan Police is continuing to suffer catastrophic crises in relation to trust and community relations (racism, misogyny, a lack of diversity, to name but a few, and they just… keep… happening), and that it’s definitely more than just ‘a few bad apples’, but this refreshed take on Accidental Death of An Anarchist cleverly connects the dots between them all before laughing as they buckle under their own ludicrousness. Rigby’s Maniac is like a pied piper for police here, dismantling the hapless officers’ accounts to the extent they have no other option but to consider the alternative offered by the imposter – even if it does involve belting out an Italian ballad before the interval.
The best example of the aforementioned ‘connecting the dots’ is in the form of Superintendent Curry (Tony Gardner, who many will recognise from the children’s sitcom My Parents Are Aliens), who’s so committed to restoring integrity to the force amid multiple scandals involving marginalised communities that he resorts to toxic masculinity to enforce order. Gardner’s character is exactly the type to insist there isn’t a culture of bullying in the police while shouting in your face. The many contradictions of the Met are laughable, and that’s rather the point with this biting comedy.
With a couple of exceptions – namely the journalist character Fi Phelan (Ruby Thomas), who provides a brief illustration of the media’s complicity with police forces, but only after making the rare decision to take a selfie with the officers – every line has a point and many are multi-layered. I’ve already talked about the cyclical nature of this production, but this also connects to the shameful fact that Met scandals never seem to end, and the process of an inquiry followed by some minor punishment for a handful of officers offers a short catharsis before the whole cycle of scandal starts again as a result of the systemic issues not being addressed.
They’re being addressed here, though – by force, whether the force likes it or not. The fact the production remains relevant after hit runs in Sheffield and Hammersmith, and that the Met’s many failures still have to be expressed so smartly by Rigby is damning in itself. You’ll be left smiling at the silliness and effortlessness by which the Maniac unravels the cover-ups and corruptions, until the anger is realised at the curtain call, making it more than worthy of a raptus- sorry, rapturous applause.
Accidental Death of An Anarchist is now playing at the Theatre Royal Haymarket until 9 September.
An audio described performance is scheduled for 25 July, with a captioned performance taking place on 1 August.
Production Images: Helen Murray.
Disclaimer: I was invited to watch ‘Accidental Death of An Anarchist’ for free in exchange for a review of the performance as a member of the press. I did not receive payment for this article and all opinions stated above are honest and my own.
Liam O'Dell 