Private Lives

Spar Treatment

Private Lives

by Noël Coward

Reading Rep Productions at the Reading Rep Theatre until 9^thMay

Review by Sam Martin

Reading Rep’s Private Lives is a fizzing, gloriously overblown revival that understands exactly where the comedy in Coward’s classic lies. It embraces the play’s “hysterical nonsense” with confidence and flair, allowing the absurdity of the plot to generate an evening filled with laughter from start to finish. This is a thoroughly entertaining production, driven by exceptional acting across the company, sharp comic timing, and a bold sense of theatricality that suits the material perfectly.

At its heart, Private Lives is a play about incompatibility, and this production leans into that brilliantly. The exaggerated nuances of each character sharpen the sense that these are couples fundamentally ill-matched, and that misalignment becomes the engine of both the humour and the jealousy. What could risk becoming merely brittle instead feels buoyant and alive, because every emotional outburst, every withering glance and every piece of comic business is played with clarity and purpose. The result is a production that revives the play not as a polite period piece, but as a vibrant, larger-than-life comedy of romantic chaos.

Central to its success are Christopher Bonwell’s Elyot and Amy Di Bartolomeo’s Amanda, who are wonderfully matched in their ability to capture the dangerous attraction at the centre of the play. They swing delightfully on the pendulum between infatuation and bickering, sometimes changing direction so quickly that the audience is left with comic whiplash! Bonwell gives Elyot a dry, knowing charm that makes his vanity and volatility all the more entertaining, while Di Bartolomeo’s Amanda is all glamour, spark and commanding presence. Together they create a relationship that is impossible to look away from: magnetic one moment, explosive the next.

Their scenes are especially effective because both actors understand that Amanda and Elyot are never truly at rest in each other’s company. Their behaviour is ostentatious, even performative, and that excess fuels both their longing and their despair. Every exchange feels heightened, every reconciliation temporary, every insult laced with its own strange intimacy. This production captures that contradiction beautifully. We see not only why these two are drawn back together, but why they are equally incapable of sustaining peace. Their love is inseparable from their appetite for conflict, and Bonwell and Di Bartolomeo make that tension irresistibly funny.

In contrast, Orla O’Sullivan’s Sybil and Emile John’s Victor are played as far softer and more soppy figures, which throws Amanda and Elyot’s emotional violence into even sharper relief. They are comparatively weak, at least initially, but never so faintly drawn that they disappear into the background. O’Sullivan brings an appealing earnestness to Sybil, while John gives Victor a stiffness and sincerity that work very well in counterpoint to the grander behaviour of the central pair. Their shared doggedness, particularly in pursuing the runaway couple, gives both characters a surprising measure of courage and allows them to become more than simply comic casualties of the plot. That development lends the later scenes an extra energy, as bewilderment gradually hardens into determination.

There is also strong work from Rose-Anna Nicholson as Louise, who makes a memorable impression in her professional debut. As the grumpy housemaid, she gives a sterling performance, grounding the mayhem with dry assurance and well-judged comic understatement. She holds her own admirably among such heightened characterisation, and her presence adds another texture to the production’s humour. A particular highlight comes when she produces a baguette to probe Sybil, a moment so unexpected and so deftly handled that it earns one of the evening’s biggest laughs. It is a perfect example of the production’s relish for physical comedy and its confidence in letting even smaller moments land fully.

One of the production’s greatest strengths is its command of comic rhythm. This is a masterclass in wit, timing and larger-than-life characterisation, with the cast expertly sustaining the pace while still allowing individual moments to breathe. The humour never feels forced or overly laboured; instead, it emerges naturally from the personalities, the mismatches, and the escalating absurdity of the situation. Coward’s dialogue sparkles, but what makes it sing here is the cast’s instinct for when to push and when to hold back. Every interruption, pause and eruption is calibrated to keep the audience in delighted anticipation.

The design, too, plays an important role in creating the world of the play. The set is suitably grand, complementing the melodramatic exchanges with elegance and scale. It gives the characters a world worthy of their extravagant behaviour and helps root the comedy in an atmosphere of luxury and performance. Particularly impressive is the transformation of the space during the interval, which is handled so effectively that it deepens the sense of having moved fully into another chapter of these characters’ lives. We truly believe we have stepped into their grand world, where passion, vanity and dysfunction all unfold in lavish surroundings.

What makes this Private Lives so successful is that it never tries to smooth away the ridiculousness of the play. Instead, it revels in it. The production understands that the story’s emotional excess, its reversals, and its delight in selfishness are precisely what make it so funny. Rather than resisting the melodrama, director Matthew Forbes amplifies it with intelligence and style. The result is a comedy that feels generous, vivid and unapologetically theatrical.

In all, this is an immensely enjoyable revival: stylish, sharp and full of life. With outstanding performances from the whole cast, a confident visual flair, and a joyous embrace of Coward’s comic chaos, Reading Rep has delivered a production that feels both classic and freshly invigorated. It is a sparkling evening of theatre, full of wit, energy and delicious disorder.

Sam Martin, April 2026

Photography by Pamela Raith