Noel Coward’s Present Laughter is this month’s National Theatre Live presentation, and it’s the 2019 Old Vic revival that starred Andrew Scott and had him picking up numerous Best Actor of the Year at that year’s award shows for stage performances. While these CCP-sponsored National Theatre Live recordings will never duplicate being seated in the actual theatre, they are the next best thing, and I am so happy that they’ve been brought to the Philippines for us to enjoy.

Andrew Scott is renowned stage actor Gary Essendine, and the events of the drama-comedy take place as he prepares for an overseas tour. Love, sex, soul-searching, more sex, panic, tests of friendship, and retribution - they all come into play as a myriad of characters descend on the Essendine flat. It’s directed by Matthew Warchus (Matilda the Musical). Also, it stars Indira Verma as Liz Essendine, Sophie Thompson as Monica, the secretary, Abdul Salis as Morris, Enzo Cilenti as Joe, Joshua Hill as Fred, Kitty Archer as Daphne, and Luke Thalion as Roland.

I mention the cast because while there is no doubt that Andrew Scott is at the molten center of the play, it is, at one level, a drawing room comedy and the ensemble acting is top-notch - delivering the lines and choreographed scenes with startling timing and precision. It makes the whole thing work magically, and the second and third acts are supreme examples of how good this can all be, as lines are bounced off each other, and the facial asides are hilarious.

With sparkling charm and ‘force of nature’ egomania, Scott’s Essendine is quite possibly a reflection of Coward on himself, as he took on the lead role in its first production in 1943. He’s a Peter Pan who never grew up, has hit 40 and can’t stand that, and is forever turning to outrageous theatricality - while admonishing everyone else for being so theatrical.

The big change from the original is having what was a predatory female become a predatory male - making Gary Essendine that much more of a sexual chameleon. And given what we now know of matinee idols of that era, and even of post-war Hollywood, this ambiguity helps keep the play contemporary despite the 1940s setting.

The play’s original title was Sweet Sorrow, and it’s easy to see why this contradiction in terms would have worked as well. Throughout the play, the distance between laughter and sadness gets narrower and narrower so that, quite often, a moment of pure hilarity transforms into one that’s wistful and one of longing. It’s nice to note how Coward’s play still rings true today when vanity and insecurity lie snugly in bed with overconfidence and pride. It’s all hubris, and Coward reminds us of that most entertainingly. Look out for repeat screenings of Present Laughter.