DIRTY ROTTEN SCOUNDRELS
DIRTY ROTTEN SCOUNDRELS, Redfern Lane Productions with Hayes Theatre Co at the Hayes Theatre, 22 May - 28 June 2026. Photography by John McCrae
Oddly enough, there is no more joyous experience than to almost pee your pants while laughing uncontrollably in a theatre – not once, but repeatedly through two hours, plus interval, of a show that should be available on Medicare in place of Prozac.
This 2026 production of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels begins as a visual treat from Soham Apte, whose cunningly versatile set design says sunny days and cocktail nights in Beaumont-sur-Mer on the French Riviera (aptly lit by James Wallis). Grace Kelly or Audrey Hepburn could be sitting nearby as Cary Grant or Noel Coward stroll past; instead, it’s debonair conman Lawrence Jameson (Blake Erickson), who glides into view like a barracuda on the hunt.
Originating as Bedtime Story, a 1964 movie starring David Niven and Marlon Brando, then as Dirty Rotten Scoundrels in 1988 with Steve Martin and Michael Caine, the musical theatre adaptation opened on Broadway in 2004 with book and lyrics by Jeffrey Lane and David Yazbek. In 2013, Tony Sheldon and Matt Hetherington played the unlikely lads at the Theatre Royal.
Its vintage can be tasted in the basic premise of a conman predator going after female marks in the most 1964-ish way: ruthless seduction and entitlement au go go. This time, it’s Kristina McNamara as apparently hapless heiress Christine Colgate. And if her surname didn’t set your bells ringing, it’s probably why you’re not a successful con-person.
Meanwhile, Lawrence is more than irked when Freddy Benson, a maladroit American wannabe, turns up on his patch amid rumours that a notorious rogue, The Jackal, is in the vicinity. As Freddy, Rowan Witt is both the antithesis and excellent foil for Erickson. Freddy is all tousled boyish innocence, coupled with clumsy charm and twinkles. The two come to a disgruntled agreement: to bet on who will relieve Miss Colgate of her money, with the loser leaving town. However, unknown to Freddy, Lawrence has a local accomplice: Jordan Shea as Andre – especially invaluable because he’s the local police commissioner and has an atrocious Clouseau accent. These shifty geezers collide and collaborate, and are a guilty pleasure.
The company of Beaumont-sur-Mer locals is of the singing-dancing calibre long customary at the Hayes: Oliver Clisdell, Emma Feliciano, Brendan Godwin, Madeleine Kirkwood and Christopher Tendai fill the stage and their supporting roles with verve, precision and spectacle – thanks to choreographer Cameron Boxall. He rightly credits his Associate Carla Venezia and Assistant Lauren Mitchell, because the complexity and frequency of dance numbers is dazzling.
In support, Aurélie Roque is a standout in sharply and hilariously defining her vampish character, while Scarlet Lindsay is a comic talent to be savoured and nurtured. All are supported and encouraged to fly by director Rebecca McNamee. She is a rare treasure in that she knows how serious is the business of comedy and farce – and that discipline is rooted in every member of the cast, to great effect.
Invisible but sumptuously audible is the backstage band led by musical director Dylan Pollard. The ensemble clearly delights in the melange of musical styles and influences, and the balance of stage voices and unseen musicians is impeccably managed by sound designer Em-Jay Dwyer. Last but absolutely not least in the creative team is costume designer Angelina Daniel. She has slyly referenced elements from each era of the show, from ’30s Dior-chic to ’60s dolly-bird nonsense, held together by elegant tailoring for the chaps that neatly nods to ’80s amorality and Gordon Gekko’s Wall Street motto: greed is good.
Nevertheless, every moment of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is crafted for wit, laughter and visual delight, also utterly ridiculous. Rowan Witt and Blake Erickson make it all look effortless and spellbinding, and Kristina McNamara lights up an already sparkling stage. But do be prepared to pee your pants.
