Who might you expect to be the most performed French playwright of all time? Molière? Racine? Feydeau? In fact it is Marc Camoletti, whose jaunty, jet-setting farce ran in the West End for most of the 1960s, returned again in Matthew Warchus's 2007 revival, and has now been given a change of crew and sent out on a long-haul tour.
It is often said that comedy is all in the timing. This one is all in the timetables. Parisian architect Bernard has a chic apartment and a stylish American fiancee to match. Her job as a TWA air stewardess means they don't get to see each other all that often; but that leaves time for Bernard to schedule in his other two fiancees, who work for Alitalia and Lufthansa respectively.
The essence of farce is the spectacle of a well-regulated system collapsing into chaos, and it is clear from the off that the action will dissolve into a frenzy of slamming doors and sexually available women running around in towels. In fact, Camoletti's farce is so formulaic and dependent on crude national stereotypes there's no way it should still get off the ground. But Warchus's snazzy production appeals to a romantic yearning for the days when international air travel was still glamorous.
The cast assembled for the tour is reassuringly strong. Martin Marquez's Bernard is fully inflated with smug composure, which, once pricked, deflates like a balloon making a rude noise. And there's a splendidly stroppy turn from Susie Blake as a maid expected to smooth over the air-traffic control problems of her employer. It's a fast-paced production that still appears to have all its engines bolted on, though you do wonder how long some of these things have been in service.
