The Time Machine – York Theatre Royal

Writers: Steven Canny, John Nicholson

Director: Orla O’Loughlin

You have to admire the honesty of Original Theatre:The Time Machineis listed as “a comedy” and the writers as Steven Canny and John Nicholson, none of that phoney “adapted from H.G. Wells” nonsense, though the great man is accorded a two-page biography in the programme. This is no more than “from an idea by…” and the second half, when it gathers full momentum, uses time travel as a hook to hang all sorts of nonsense on.

It begins in “going wrong” territory, with technical flaws, unsynchronised dialogue and the like. The conceit is that the three actors are a theatre company staging a jaw-dropping version ofThe Time Machine.Dave Hearn, a latter-day John Cleese, all long legs and furious temper, claims to be the great-great-grandson of H.G. Wells and to have unearthed some remarkable artefacts. Amy Revelle is the feminist in revolt, slipping in “actor” when Hearn describes her as an “actress” and extremely keen to boost the number of Cher songs (from zero) in the play. Michael Dylan is the lovably put-upon Irish dogsbody-come-actor.

Fred Meller’s set features a huge clock and whatever furniture gets wheeled in at a great rate. So the first scene is pure H.G. Wells, a Victorian drawing room with aspidistra and chaise longue where Revelle and Dylan (as the fiancee and cynical friend of The Traveller, here named after Wells and known as “Bertie” – after Herbert) sit awaiting the appearance of Hearn as Bertie. The remainder of the first half – which, in truth, is relatively boring by the end – consists of Hearn/Wells’ conviction that his great-great-grandad actually discovered the secret of time travel, scientific lectures by Dylan interrupted by zany behaviour from the other two, a scene to give pause when Wells goes on 40 years and encounters his fiancee, now married to his best friend, and a scene, loosely based on H.G.’s work where the Traveller encounters Weena.

And this is where the play changes gear. The Morlock (Dylan) oppressing Weena is accidentally killed, the curtain comes down and Act 2 is about saving Dylan. Dubious scientific theory abounds, crazy connections are made and the audience is increasingly in peril. A spoiler alert – Michael Dylan is saved, but not before he has led the troupe in a neat example of Irish dancing on the subject of a handbag and Lady Bracknell and delivered a rather moving account of one of Hamlet’s soliloquies.

Colin Grenfell (lighting) and Greg Clarke (sound) create enough flashes and explosions to satisfy Queen Victoria (she gets a cameo, by the way), Orla O’Loughlin directs with plenty of energy and a fine disregard for logic and the three actors, plus the understudy who brings in the pizzas (don’t ask), never let up and their involvement of the audience made this reviewer glad to be in the Dress Circle.

Runs until 18th March 2023, before continuing on tour.