The hilarious Stratford Festival romp ‘London Assurance’ was written two centuries ago, but the fool at its centre is recognizable today

STRATFORD, ONT.—If the Victorian-era playwright Dion Boucicault had written “London Assurance” today, his hapless protagonist Sir Harcourt Courtly might have looked a bit like this: a self-obsessed, Kardashian-type fashion influencer. Likely on a fad diet that he’ll ditch by next weekend. Living in SoCal (a bougie part of it, that is). Oh, and probably sporting a couple of botched plastic surgeries to boot.
This is perhaps a crass stereotype. But by no means is it a crude analogy. For Boucicault’s central character, as campily portrayed by Geraint Wyn Davies, is the epitome of an 19th-century, over-the-hill fop. 
From the moment of his first entrance, swaggering down the stairs in gaudy trappings and with rosy cheeks powdered like a clown’s, there’s no doubt that Harcourt is a caricature of a grand buffoon. 
But what’s most striking about this archetypal character is its surprising contemporary relevance. Boucicault may have written his hilarious romp nearly two centuries ago, yet the bubbly fool at its centre still feels instantly recognizable — bearing an uncanny resemblance to our present-day “look-at-me” celebrities and the oversized personalities that populate our social media feeds. 
That’s what makes director Antoni Cimolino’s new production at the Festival Theatre so satisfying. Yes, it’s a farce poking fun at Victorian-era notions of romance and excess. And it’s also a social satire that skewers us. 
Its setup is ludicrously wild: Harcourt (who vainly claims to be no more than 39 but is, in reality, a sexagenarian) prepares to wed his 18-year-old bride, Grace Harkaway (Marissa Orjalo). The awkward arrangement is on account of Grace’s deceased father, whose bewildering will states that for his daughter to claim her inheritance she must marry the older Harcourt. 
Fate, however, has other plans. It intervenes in the form of Harcourt’s son, the roisterous Charles (Austin Eckert, in a protean role), along with his busybody sidekick Dazzle (Emilio Vieira, with brilliant comic timing). The pair, who flee London to evade the fuzz and Charles’s creditors, wind up at the very country estate where Harcourt is set to ask for Grace’s hand in marriage. 
Of course, Grace and Charles fall madly in love, the latter assuming the alias of Augustus Hamilton so as not to attract the attention of his father. But Charles needs little help to distract Harcourt, whose eyes have already turned to the jocular huntress Lady Gay Spanker (Deborah Hay). 
If this premise initially elicits more uncomfortable titters than full-on guffaws (in the post-MeToo era, Harcourt’s advances toward Grace feel all too familiar to laugh at), Boucicault’s writing eventually wins us over.   
He draws both Grace and Lady Gay Spanker with refreshing depth and agency, women who come to take control of their narratives and break free of the expectations placed upon them. Grace, as played by Orjalo, is equally witty and wise, transcending the trope of the naive young ingénue. And Hay, who all but chews up Lorenzo Savoini’s elegant scenery and Francesca Callow’s costumes, plays Spanker with a sly, debaucherous and fiercely independent edge. 
While the pair are the most memorable parts of “London Assurance,” Boucicault’s farce is also a brilliant vehicle to showcase the comedic chops of the Stratford Festival ensemble. Rylan Wilkie, donning a sardonic grin, is solidly cast as Charles’s valet, Cool, for whom lying comes easily; Michael Spencer-Davis is also a hoot as Adolphus Spanker, Lady Gay’s significantly older husband; and Graham Abbey milks the laughs as a meddling lawyer appropriately named Mark Meddle. 
But the talents of this cast can’t quite overcome the occasional weaknesses in the material. The first half, for me, is the stronger of the two. Boucicault masterfully uses dramatic irony to crescendo toward the intermission. But when we return, the scenes descending from that climax feel more contrived, meandering to the show’s finale. 
I’m also unconvinced that the Festival Theatre is the most appropriate venue for the show. Boucicault’s play contains numerous asides, when characters break the fourth wall and speak directly to the audience. The theatre’s thrust stage, however, makes it more challenging to identify these moments, especially in Cimolino’s fast-moving production. (I imagine this play is better suited for a proscenium stage like the Avon Theatre, where the comedy was last mounted in 2006.) 
Still, it’s hard not to appreciate Boucicault’s lively brand of entertainment. A social commentary twisted into comedy, it left me uttering the same quip that Hay’s Lady Gay Spencer sprinkles throughout: “Delicious!” 
This article was edited from a previous version that mistakenly attributed both set and costume designs Lorenzo Savoini.  In fact, Savoini is the set designer but the costumes are by Francesca Callow.