Tim McMullen

Fackham Hall

14/12/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

I’ve never fallen under the spell of Downton Abbey (even though I loved Gosford Park, the film that spawned it), so I’m more than happy to see the franchise lampooned – and that’s pretty much the motivation behind Fackham Hall. Based by an idea by comedian Jimmy Carr and his brother Patrick (and adapted by three other writers), this sprightly tale thunders along at full gallop, flinging out a whole deluge of jokes, sight gags and historical references as it proceeds. Anyone who’s come to this expecting subtlety has clearly come to the wrong place, but that’s not a criticism. I enjoy the experience and, if a joke occasionally falls flat, well it’s reassuring to know that there’ll be another one along in the blink of an eye.

The titular hall is the ancestral home of Lord and Lady Davenport (Damian Lewis and Katherine Waterston). They have two daughters, Poppy (Emma Laird) and Rose (Thomasin McKenzie), and – in the time-honoured tradition of the upper classes – Poppy is due to marry her first cousin, the odious Archibald (Tom Felton), in order to keep their stately home in the family. But on the big day, Poppy simply cannot bring herself to do it – which inevitably puts a lot of pressure on Rose to step up and take one for the team.

But then handsome and homeless young pickpocket, Eric (Ben Radcliffe), is selected to deliver an urgent message to Lord Davenport and, on the way there, he and Rose cross paths. While this is unfortunate in one way – she’s at the wheel of a car and he’s on a bicycle – once they’ve set eyes on each other, it’s clear that romance is their destiny. But if Rose decides to be with Eric, what will happen to their family estate?

And then a key character is murdered – and the plot begins to thicken.

The recent reboot of The Naked Gun seems to have reignited the public’s taste for a decent spoof and, on that level, Fackham Hall doesn’t disappoint. I spend the film’s duration alternately chuckling, groaning and occasionally guffawing out loud at the film’s smörgåsbord of comic offerings. (The sight gags arrive so relentlessly, I’m actually in danger of missing some of them.)

Director Jim O’Hanlon keeps the pot bubbling nicely and the production is blessed with a cast of excellent actors, who appreciate that the secret of a spoof is to play everything absolutely straight. Anna Maxwell-Martin is great as the ruthless housekeeper, Mrs McCallister, and I love Tim McMullen’s deadpan performance as the butler, Cyril, who also doubles as a prototype AI assistant. Carr has a couple of funny cameos as a short-sighted vicar who specialises in making every sermon a series of tortuous misunderstandings. And I’m delighted by one of the Davenport’s house guests in particular: JRR Tolkien, who is working on what will become his best-known book, finding inspiration in the strangest places…

The big ‘reveal’ at the end will come as a surprise to absolutely nobody but, really, in something like this the usual rules of criticism feel somewhat superfluous. Some Downton diehards might clutch their pearls in outrage, but I have a lot of fun with this and no doubt many others – from both upstairs and downstairs – will find plenty to enjoy.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Twelfth Night

23/04/20

National Theatre Live

I’m never sure about Twelfth Night. Yes, it’s a perfectly constructed play, with a rich cast of characters and some of Shakespeare’s most profound and memorable lines. But I’m always pulled up short by the identity swap stuff, because it’s so silly. And, dare I say it, over-used in the bard’s comedies. Yes, I know he’s a genius. But come on. It defies credulity.

Still, major plot quibbles aside, this latest offering from the NT Live’s lockdown programme is nothing short of glorious. Director Simon Godwin really revels in the play’s theme of gender fluidity, and it makes perfect sense in this context to have a female Malvolia (the marvellous Tamsin Greig), Feste (Doon Mackichan) and Fabia (Imogen Doel).

For those who need a memory jog or who are new to the play, this is the story of twins Viola (Tamara Lawrance) and Sebastian (Daniel Ezra), washed up on the shores of Illyria following a shipwreck. Each believes the other dead, and sets out alone to seek shelter.

To Viola, disguising herself as a boy seems the safest bet, so she changes her clothes and calls herself Cesario. So-disguised, she finds work as a messenger for Duke Orsino (Oliver Chris), and is soon engaged in the peculiar business of attempting to woo the Countess Olivia (Phoebe Fox) for him. Unfortunately, Olivia falls for Cesario instead – and, to complicate matters further, Viola herself is smitten with the Duke. Add Olivia’s unruly uncle Toby (Tim McMullen) and his drunken entourage into the mix, and it’s easy enough to see why the prissy, order-loving Malvolia becomes so peevish and out of sorts.

The standout here is clearly Greig’s Malvolia; this is a star turn. Her obsessive, precise nature is beautifully detailed, and the frenzied abandon that follows when she falls for the revellers’ trick – instructing her to dress in yellow stockings to win Olivia’s favour – allows us a glimpse beneath Malvolia’s repressed exterior, as her secret desires are cruelly exposed. Her abject humiliation is genuinely heartbreaking.

But there’s plenty to admire besides Greig: McMullen’s interpretation of Toby (all louche and dissipated, like an ageing rock star) is original and works well with the script, while Daniel Rigby’s man-bunned Andrew Aguecheek makes a perfect comic foil.

The set, by Soutra Gilmour, is inspired: dominated by a huge rotating staircase, that turns to reveal a vast range of locations, all cleverly depicted with a few deft strokes.

This is a lovely, light production, with both exquisite foolery and emotional depth. I reckon I’ll even let the false identity stuff go. Against the odds, they make it work.

4.4 stars

Susan Singfield