The Time Machine: A Comedy, currently playing at the Park Theatre in north London, is a loose adaptation of H.G. Wells’ seminal science fiction text. How loose that adaptation may be is lampshaded by leading man Dave Wells (Dave Hearn, Star Wars – The Rise of Skywalker), late in Act Two, when he notes that “fans of the original novel may think that this adaptation is not faithful to the source material”. To a very great extent, he’s right, but the story being told here, using the Time Machine device, is more intimate than Wells’ original and all the stronger for that.
What, then, is the story? Dave, the leading man here, is the great-great-grandson of H.G. Wells himself, and he’s made a tremendous discovery! It turns out the story written by his ancestor is all true! Dave has found the Time Machine used and has zipped back and forth to the future and back, to confirm that everything H.G. wrote will actually happen. Now he wants to recreate what’s happened in the last few weeks as a form of verbatim theatre with the other members of his theatre company. So far, it’s relatively straightforward.
Michael (Michael Dylan, Outlander) is one of the co-founders of the theatre company, whose efforts to stage a production of The Importance of Being Earnest operate as a sort of framing device/point of reference throughout the show. He’s somewhat nervy but also knows his sci-fi and explains, in a hilarious early sequence, the ‘rules’ they have been added to time travel since H.G. invented it, referencing the Grandad paradox, the Hitler paradox, and the Timeline Protection paradox. The latter features a very funny bit about Prince Harry and Meghan, which isn’t sci-fi but is very well observed. Michael, along with Amy (Amy Revelle), really wants to continue the planned tour of Earnest, but Dave is insisting that his recreation of The Time Machine is a much better story.
Amy is an actor-musician with an enthusiasm for Cher songs, and a deep regret regarding a past intimate relationship with Michael. She’s also probably the most sceptical of the trio about the prospect of time travel being real. Any would prefer the group to continue their proposed Wilde production because H.G. didn’t really write any decent roles for women. But Dave’s enthusiasm cannot be contained, and so, with some reluctance, the trio launches into a recap of their recent past.
Rules, boundaries and, to an extent, plot, established, Dave, Michael, and Amy begin to lead us through a verbatim retelling of the last few weeks of their recent rehearsal period. And then, as they reach the end of Act One, tragedy strikes, and The Time Machine can only serve to show that, ultimately, that tragedy must always happen.
The second act begins as the first did but quickly deviates into a very funny series of character crises as Dave, Amy, and Michael all come to realise that they are trapped in a time loop from which there is no escape. Here, there is some audience participation, and the size of the venue at the Park means that anyone could potentially be called upon. However, they only pick people who volunteer with enthusiasm, so don’t worry if that prospect terrifies you.
There’s a series of very funny visual jokes as we build towards the frantic resolution. And it’s as we get closer to that ending that the more serious message behind all the tomfoolery starts to become clear. With a time machine, you could travel anywhere – future or past – and see anything. But your own time would still be finite. If you didn’t have such a device and you knew your time was limited – what would you do? Who would you spend your time with? What are the things you would want to be remembered for? What is the legacy you are leaving behind? The questions are asked here if one specific character, but it’s a deeper question we all perhaps should ask ourselves. Our time here is finite – are we doing with that time the things we truly want to?
Somehow, in the midst of these incredibly deep questions, the comedy keeps on ramping up, and a superb moment of theatrical japery right at the end marks the perfect conclusion to the show. Profoundly funny while also profoundly thought-provoking, this is a perfect way to spend a chilly winter evening.
Silly, funny, well-honed comedy is incredibly difficult to make, and the company here makes it look easy. Whilst the first act sets up a lot of what will happen in the second, and has a lot of funny moments, overall, it occasionally felt a little flabby and could perhaps do with being pacier at points. The second act however raises the entire endeavour, from something potentially silly and slight, to a much more considered examination of how humanity lives and dies. And that is entirely in the spirit of HG Wells’ original novella.
The Time Machine: A Comedy continues at the Park Theatre in Finsbury Park, London, until December 30th. You can book tickets via the Park Theatre Website.
