Lean, focused adaptation of classic novel gets to its heart

Vanity Fair ****Royal Lyceum

INTRICATE yet sprawling, the Royal Lyceum's new production of Thackeray's rambling novel succeeds in getting right into the nitty gritty of a story that is set against the backdrop of the Battle of Waterloo and the early decades of the 19th Century.

All the colour which ensured that Thackeray could publish the original in 19 monthly parts from January 1847 is cut away. Gone are the details of what, at that time, was recent history – details which raised the eyebrows of those early readers.

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In their place, the adaptation holds tight to the twin stories of Becky Sharp, the lowly born social climber, and Amelia Sedley, the highborn girl brought down by her father's failed financial speculations. The shadows of great historical events still fall across them, but the focus is placed all the more sharply on the different kinds of vanity that the whole novel is about.

Becky's primping, preening vanity is brought to full, spiteful life by Sophia Linden, as she rises up through society by judicious use of her wits and what might, euphemistically, be referred to as her charms.

Her first catch and husband, Rawden Crawley, is vain enough to think that he can remain her equal as they gamble their way into money and a place society. Matthew Pidgeon plays him just right, from his furtive superiority to his ineffable sorrow, as his vanity makes him blind to his wife's adventures.

Amelia's vanity is more pious than that of the friend she made in school, but no less poisonous, as she clings to the memory of her faithless, wastrel husband, George Osbourne, killed in battle. Kim Gerard ensures that as a victim she is a sympathetic character, but gives her enough arrogance to stop her being likeable.

Antony Eden has the most fun, playing foppish George – and later his son, Georgie. His vanity allows him to ruin the life of the girl he was brought up to marry.

Written for the Cheek by Jowl theatre company and premiered at the 1983 Fringe, the script makes great demands of its eight performers. It mimics Thackeray's own discursive narrative style by making the actors narrate the story themselves, often passing the narration around the company within a scene as the focus moves from one character to the next.

Which is to say nothing of the vast cast of characters which people the play. Impeccably tight direction from Tony Cownie ensures that as the actors switch between characters there is never any doubt as to who they are.

Cownie also succeeds in bringing out its humour with wry mockery of the social mores of those are obsessed with wealth, appearance and the cult of celebrity.

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There's plenty of fun with the story's telling too. From branches being carried by members of the cast to create the illusion of motion during carriage scenes, to Steven McNicoll as Amelia's brother Joseph and his drunken attempts to propose to Becky, visual and slapstick comedy are used to help drive the story on.

It all makes for a thoroughly satisfying production, casting an illuminating reflection on our own society, and providing an extremely funny alternative to the po-faced costume dramas beloved of Sunday evening TV schedulers.

• Run ends April 12