One Man, Two Guvnors - review

In 1746, Carlo Goldoni wrote a classic comedy normally translated as The Servant of Two Masters. Richard Bean has used it for a riotous farce combining the original's structure with a particularly Anglo-Saxon verbal and physical humour. The result, a kind of Carry On Carlo, is one of the funniest productions in the National's history.

The plot almost defies description. But Bean has set the action in 1963 in Brighton, and the key point is that Francis Henshall, a failed skiffle player, finds himself working for two guvnors. One, Rachel Crabbe, is disguised as her dead gangland twin, and, in her brutal mop-like wig, bears an uncanny resemblance to Ringo Starr.

Francis's other employer is a snooty toff, Stanley Stubbers, who not only killed Rachel's brother but is also her secret lover. Neither boss is aware the other is in Brighton, as Francis bounces between them like a shuttlecock and, in the play's most famous scene, serves them dinner simultaneously.

As Francis, James Corden makes the transition from Gavin and Stacey to revved-up Goldoni with consummate ease. As in the original, the character is driven by omnivorous hunger, and it is wonderful to see Corden chewing a letter in desperation. Even better is the moment when he is asked by his pneumatic doxy whether he prefers eating or making love: Corden's broad features become a study in concentration before he replies, "Tough one that, innit."

But Corden's gift is for combining a porpoise-like physicality with a profound geniality that even incorporates the front row into the show.

But what makes the show a triumph is its combination of visual and verbal comedy. Bean and his director, Nicholas Hytner, have managed to make the dinner scene funnier than ever by adding a character: an octogenarian waiter, magnificently played by Tom Edden, whose hand alarmingly quivers as he serves a tureen of soup and who has an amazing capacity to fall backwards down stairs and return like a rubber ball. In a peculiarly English way, the physical jokes are accompanied by an endless stream of verbal gags: a cynical hood announces, for instance, that "love passes through marriage quicker than shit through a small dog".

While Corden is central, there is a rich host of performances. Oliver Chris as Stanley is a walking monument to public school arrogance. Daniel Rigby as a would-be actor is a brilliant compendium of old-school theatrical mannerisms. Jemima Rooper as the male-attired Rachel has a wonderful macho swagger, and Suzi Toase gives full value to Francis's well-upholstered Brighton belle. For good measure there is even a prefatory skiffle session and musical interludes by Grant Olding.

Maybe the second half can't match the unbounded hilarity of the first, but the National, in taking on an old Italian play, has not only improved Goldoni but also struck gold.