I must admit, when Hugo Williamson warned his fellow cast members, “there’s an inspector coming”, I hid my notebook in the darkness of the Corpus Playroom. Thankfully, he was in character. The Government Inspector, Nikolai Gogol’s famous satire, relates the comedic results when a provincial Russian council mistakes a broke traveller (Blossom Durr) for a government inspector, lavishing expense on him, and making fools of themselves in the process.

The production has some wonderful performances. Durr, commands the stage as the ‘inspector’, Khlestaskov, swaggering about with a blend of arrogance and bluff. Her mannerisms and voice create a wonderfully excessive character that is both laughable and believable. Durr is matched by the easy assurance of Melania Hamilton as the Governor’s wife, Anna, shouting and strutting as the petulant mother, or rolling her eyes as the dissatisfied wife. The production is at its best, when these two share the stage, bouncing their richly excessive characters off each other, flirting, laughing, poncing around in fun, and rather steamy, scenes.

“The cast say funny lines, but no one laughs”

Generally, though, the play is static. There is a large cast for the small space, who spend much of the play just watching. When they do interject, it feels too much like actors saying lines—one person responds, then the next one waits to say their line, then the next, and so on. The pause between each response breaks the realism of the scene and makes the characters feel wooden.

Lots of the comedy comes from asides, but these are unclear. It feels as though the characters say one thing then contradict themselves, often confusing the action. They need to step out of position or change the lighting—something to show only the audience can hear this.

Essentially, the cast say funny lines, often with good comedic characterisation, but no one laughs. The final Letter Scene showed why: In this moment of comedic realisation, the play comes alive—the ensemble jostle for attention, interject over each other, jump on tables, drag others out of the way to speak. In short, there is energy—and it’s funny! This revealed how static the rest of the play is; it needs more energy in the jokes, more exuberance from everyone to be funny.

There is little variation of lighting, which adds to this lack of dynamism. The sound design nicely establishes the setting and mood, but it is never left on long enough to feel worthwhile. First night nerves perhaps played a part—the actors left the stage, but the lights stayed on and the music stayed off, creating awkward pauses between scenes.

To end on a positive, though, the costume design is very well done. Military jackets and bureaucratic suits situate the satire’s oppressive context, while the motley assemblage of counter-culture smart/casual fits the inspector’s character nicely. Dobchinsky/Bobchinsky’s (Sophie Rayner & Cole Meldorf) matching Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee-esque costumes are equally clever.

The Government Inspector has promise. There are some fun comedy characters and great moments, but the production feels nervous. With more energy and looser delivery, this play could become a hilarious, satirical romp. At present, though, the comedy never quite hits its stride.