Jamie Glover cuts an exceedingly dashing figure as matinee idol Garry Lejeune in the hit West End revival of Noises Off, which has transferred from the Old Vic to the Novello Theatre for an extended run. But that’s before the 42-year-old actor has his shoelaces tied together, starts punching the air, and takes a spectacular fall down a flight of stairs as part of the bedlam on and offstage in this latest production of Michael Frayn’s iconic 1982 farce. Broadway.com spoke to the affable Glover about the thrills and spills of inhabiting this durable comedy’s chaotic landscape.
Noises Off requires an amazing level of physicality. How do you keep it up eight times a week?
I’m definitely losing weight! I believe [West End show] The Ladykillers is the same, and I think James Corden has lost a few pounds doing One Man, Two Guvnors [now on Broadway]. Funnily enough, about a year ago I rented a rowing machine, which I was doing rather religiously, but since I started doing this, it’s been sitting in our living room like a rather overdeveloped coat rack. I kept thinking I would start up again, but as long as I’m in this play, there’s no point.
Have you counted the number of times you have to go up and down the staircase of the Noises Off set?
I haven’t, but I think it’s more than double anyone else! But that’s all in the text, and if Garry has to go up the stairs to open the bathroom door, then that’s what he has to do; maybe it’s just that I make it look more tiring than anyone else [laughs]. It’s funny: I had a text flurry with Bertie Portal, who played this part last time around, and he said, “I hope you’re fit.” Steve Mangan, who played the part before him, said that as well: “You’ve got to be really fit!” What I hadn’t factored in is that you have to carry on talking while you do it. That’s the killer!
I’ve never seen your character get such mileage out of having his shoelaces tied together [by the vengeful Dotty Otley, played by 2012 Olivier nominee Celia Imrie].
Michael Frayn says I’m the first Garry he’s seen make those tiny shuffling steps. The part is so deeply undignified, which is what I like about it: He’s a man in blind fury looking entirely undignified. Michael Williams [Judi Dench’s late husband] used to say that there are two-suit farces and three-suit farces, depending on how much you sweat, and I go through two suits and three shirts per show. My heart sank when I saw the lovely costume design with a waistcoat, as well, and I thought, “Thanks very much: another layer!”
Is there a doctor on call backstage in case something happens?
Well, Michael Frayn did say to us at the start of rehearsals, “I have three words for you: health and safety!” Touch wood, we’ve only had one case where we’ve had to put an understudy on, and that was when Janie Dee twisted her ankle and couldn’t put any weight on it for a while. She’s fine now.
What do your children think of seeing their father careen about the stage?
My older daughter, who is about to be six, came to see the show at the Old Vic and I think she was a bit overwhelmed. She didn’t like everybody laughing at Daddy—at least until my partner [actress Sasha Behar] said, “That’s all right, Daddy likes that; he wants them to laugh.” My younger daughter, who is three, said the other day, “Daddy’s going off to work; he gets to fall down the stairs.” [Laughs.]
Noises Off tends to crop up regularly in London. Had you been eyeing it?
It is a play I have wanted to do and a part I have wanted to play since I was 11 or 12 and went with my mum to the fourth performance of the very first production at the Lyric Hammersmith [in 1982]. We laughed so hard that I went back the next night and dragged my dad along. Even then I had the part [of Garry] kind of earmarked.
Your mother [London stage veteran Isla Blair] was in the play’s last West End revival just over a decade ago, which must have piqued your interest further.
That’s right. Mum took over from Lynn Redgrave, and I thought when I didn’t get to play [Garry] then that the moment had passed me by. So when I saw this was coming, I did everything short of beg, borrow and steal to get seen.
Are you surprised that the West End has so many comedies right now, including Noises Off, The Ladykillers, Hay Fever and One Man, Two Guvnors?
These are tough times, and I think producers are probably saying to themselves, “Are people going to want to come out of their houses on a wet February night to see Peer Gynt?” [Laughs.] But I do think people like their red meat dramas, as well: look at Long Day’s Journey into Night [with David Suchet and Laurie Metcalf]. And yet, for all that Noises Off is extremely lighthearted and a frothy confection, it is also reinforced steel: There is something serious at its core about the way we have no choice but to continue and plow ahead and push on; it’s a wonderful metaphor for life.
Which is why you don’t have to be a theater person yourself to respond to a farce set entirely inside the world of the theater.
Yes, you could transplant [the action] to any workplace that has a sort of hierarchy, and I think that’s what people respond to. I don’t think the play would have lasted as long as it has if it were just an in-joke among the theatrical community. Like all the best farces, the characters are archetypes.
Noises Off marks something of a departure for you after dramas like The Chalk Garden and the great production of All’s Well That Ends Well opposite Judi Dench.
All’s Well was extraordinary because it felt as if it could be Judi’s last Shakespeare play, though she went on to do Titania [in A Midsummer Night’s Dream]. The Chalk Garden was a career highlight, and I feel so privileged to have been in it. Michael [Grandage, the director] really did mint the play afresh and reveal it for the complex, damaged psychological drama that it is.
For now, your life presumably is about making it to the end of the run on June 30 in one piece.
Intact, yes! There was one night at the Old Vic when I closed the door on the finger of Amy Nuttall, who was playing Brooke, and her fingernails went black. On this show, we’ve all got our bangs and bruises; that’s the nature of the beast!