Brendan O'Carroll, The New Theatre, Oxford: 6th - 24th September, 2005
I have to begin by saying that Mrs Brown's Last Wedding is really not my sort of humour. Her gay son Rory, for example, is a squealing, shrieking comedy poof – something of a throwback to the days when homosexuality was considered funny in and of its self. Mrs Brown herself is a more foul-mouthed version of the traditional pantomime dame. Think in terms of Les Dawson's cross-dressed sketches or Harry Enfield's Lovely Wobbly Randy Old Ladies and you'll be pretty close to the mark. Judging by audience reaction, it is a fine example of this particular comic genre, but it may not be to everybody's taste.
The play weighs in at three hours in length, including interval. The first act drags somewhat, and since the scene changes are frequently rather long, you may find you get into that awkward "is that it, or is there more" situation more than once. By contrast the second act winds up a little rushed, with the various plotlines achieving resolution in the space of about fifteen minutes.
The cast is good, and are certainly giving it their all. Everybody seems to be having a fine time, and their enthusiasm is frequently infectious. The characters vary in complexity. With the exception of the aforementioned comedy homosexuals, the characters generally manage to be well rounded and sympathetic, and their more serious moments are often genuinely touching.
These more serious moments, however, can constitute a problem in themselves. Frequently (particularly in the second act) the play has quite long sequences that feel more like straight drama than comedy, which can be rather jarring. This problem is exacerbated by the fact that O'Carroll keeps most of the funny lines for himself – so the play seems to work like straight drama until Mrs Brown comes on stage, then becomes a comedy until she leaves again.
As ever, the bottom line is whether this play is worth your time and money to go and see. Ultimately, it comes down to your sense of humour. If your tastes run towards the more traditional, seaside resort humour, and if you don't mind a really quite extreme quantity of swearing (Mrs Brown seldom utters a sentence without an expletive in the middle) then you might well have a great time. If your interests lie elsewhere, then you might want to give this one a miss.
By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying -
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.
- Dorothy Parker