Exposed’s Cal Reid reviews Laura Wade’s Olivier Award-winning comedy ‘Home, I’m Darling’, which began its run at the Lyceum last night.
Home, I’m Darling follows a married couple who adopt a lifestyle modelled on their mutual love of 1950s memorabilia and popular culture which, as becomes quickly apparent, is taking a heavy toll on their relationship.
From a technical viewpoint, the production is highly commendable. The set is designed to represent an idealised (and deliberately inaccurate) representation of a 1950s suburban house. Despite being set in contemporary Britain, the characters’ clothes and their home’s décor represent something more American – clever choices, given they reflect the fantasies of its central couple. The scene changes are inventive and swift, with an excellent selection of musical numbers throughout. The cast, a standout being Diane Keen, gives it their all and maintains the audience’s attention throughout.
Contemporary individuals retreating into a fantasy version of a bygone era is a well-explored concept, especially over the last several years in cinema, with the likes of Last Night in Soho and Don’t Worry Darling released in 2021 and 2022 respectively. Despite being light in tone, Home, I’m Darling concerns itself with the same central theme: the danger of nostalgia. This is where some of the problems with the script itself come to the forefront. Frequently, it becomes a pitstop of socio-political issues, addressed rather ham-fistedly in the dialogue which only Keen manages to sell through sheer acting ability.
The humour, whilst not ineffective, is not regular enough to label Home, I’m Darling a comedy. Nor is there enough serious content for it to be considered drama. There are several scenes in the second half which tease an uncomfortable, but quite appropriate, trip into dark territory. However, just when it seems ready to commit, it sharply backs out, which leaves one wondering why it bothers going there at all.
The premise, whilst outlandish, arguably demands a more serious approach. I’d go as far as to say the genre within which the script operates does not suit the story and the themes it brings with it. Characters fleetingly address racial and gender issues prominent during the 1950s. Jessica Ransom’s Judy is childishly ignorant of the realities of that period, concerned more with memories of watching Rock Hudson, Doris Day, and James Stewart as a child, fuelling her fantasy ultimately to her detriment. Beyond having another character shout all this at her whilst she stands rabbit-eyed in the kitchen, there is no further thematic development.
That said, the show is never dull at any point, thanks largely to a stellar cast and the wonderful production design. It all moves along at a steady, enjoyable pace, but sadly feels rather lacking given what could’ve been explored.
3/5
