Following a fine production of Marivaux's The Triumph of Love, the Watermill goes from the sublime to the ridiculous with this revival of a 10-year-old musical by Alan Ayckbourn and John Pattison - a gobsmacking triumph of inanity. I kept checking my programme, such was my increasing incredulity that Ayckbourn had really been involved in an evening that succeeds in being simultaneously weird and witless.
Inspired by the fairy tale Beauty and the Beast, Dreams from a Summer House tells how the members of a dysfunctional family learn to love themselves and each other at midsummer in the gardens of their mock-Tudor des res in Leatherhead. This, however, is no suburban Midsummer Night's Dream; it is more of a nightmare, as Ayckbourn loses the plot entirely. An all-singing, no-talking fantasy Belle and beast invade the manicured Surrey lawns; a shrew is tamed by the discovery that all she really needs is a man who is a bit of a beast; and a selfish, drunken, misogynistic artist realises he has been blind to the beauty who really loves him. There were plenty of moments during this long evening when I yearned for the sophistication and pseudo-feminism of the Disney version of the tale.
In a programme note, the composer, John Pattison, recalls how the piece was written by himself and Ayckbourn during a 10-day holiday in Majorca. You would think a weekend break would have sufficed. This tosh gives the lie to the claim that Ayckbourn has strong feminist sympathies. He has the artist, Robert, explain his idea of a perfect world: one filled with "perfect girls with vast chests and unfailingly sunny dispositions. Girls who are there solely to whisper, 'I love you.'" Since this is delivered by a character with no discernible sense of humour, there is nothing ironic or satirical about it.
There can be no excuses for this evening - either from Ayckbourn, who can do so much better, or from the Watermill, which has forged a terrific reputation for music theatre. Even the acting and production are well below usual standards. Everyone involved should be thrown to the beast immediately.
· Until July 5. Box office: 01635 46044.
