My Newest Favourite Thing: Behind the Lines

 

While Cousin Rachael was visiting, we went to Old Parliament House, and while she walked around the Museum of Australian Democracy, I went to the Behind the Lines exhibition to see the political cartoons from 2025. Here are some of my favourites. I have added the exhibition's words in quotations.

Introduction by Matt Golding

"In this specially commissioned cartoon for Behind the Lines 2025, Political Cartoonist of the Year Matt Golding responds to this year's theme: Are We Rolling? The politicians running across the top of the film projector are (left to right) Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin, Xi Jinping, Benjamin Netanyehu, Allegra Spender, Larissa Waters, David Littleproud, Angus Taylor, Sussan Ley, Jim Chalmers, and Anthony Albanese."

Climate change remains a headline catastrophe, but cartoonists point out that people are less bothered by global concepts than personal finances.

The Cost-of-Not-Living Crisis by Matt Golding

"If we listen to the political dinosaurs, the cost of living is the most pressing issue affecting Australians. Climate change scientists might disagree, noting Australia's climate is already changing and calling for immediate action to reduce carbon emissions. Climate change is the 'asteroid in the room' that no one wants to acknowledge."

Responding to Our Wake-up Calls by Matt Golding

"The cost-of-living crisis was one of the biggest points of debate during the election campaign. In Matt Golding's cartoon, this is the issue that finally spurs the world into action - whereas climate change has the whole world repeatedly hitting the snooze button."

Priorities by Cathy Wilcox

"September saw the release of the National Climate Risk Assessment by the Australian Climate Service. The Department of Climate Change, Energy, the Environment and Water described it as 'Australia's first nationally comprehensive look at how climate change could affect the systems we rely on'. The report detailed sea-level rises, increased deaths from heatwaves and the impact of climate change on the Australian property market, which could see close to a million homes possibly uninsurable by 2050."

Join the Dots by Megan Herbert

"Mid-year a deadly algal bloom driven by marine heat waves had a devastating effect on the marine life around the coast of South Australia, with an unusually large number of dead marine creatures appearing washed up on the state's beaches. Between March and July, according to data collected on the citizen science site iNaturalist Australia, the bloom killed around 15,000 animals from over 450 marine species."

House of Cards by Harry Bruce

"As the cost of living rose and the housing crisis continued, Australians turned to their credit cards. Reserve Bank statistics released in February showed the national credit card debt sitting at $17.8 billion, a figure bolstered by Australians' record monthly spend of $28 billion in December 2024." 

There are, inevitably, cartoons specifically aimed at Australian politics. 

Nighthawks at the Sky After Dark Diner by Matt Golding

"In this work Matt Golding recreates one of America's most famous paintings, Edward Hopper's Nighthawks (1942). Peter Dutton approaches an intimate bar, the Sky After Dark Diner, where former Liberal leaders Malcolm Turnbull, Scott Morrison and Tony Abbott, seated next to Sky News host Peta Credlin, are being served by the channel's owner, Rupert Murdoch." 

The Liberals' Post-Election Complete Rebuild by Matt Golding

"This is one of two very clever re-creations of IKEA instruction booklets in the year's Behind the Lines. The challenge of rebuilding the Liberal party after the election could be remarkably simple - or very difficult - depending on your personal view of whether it is easy or hard to follow IKEA construction manuals."

Nuclear Neverland by Claire Harrison

"A major coalition policy during the election campaign was a plan to build seven nuclear power plants across New South Wales, Queensland, Victoria, South Australia and Western Australia. The coalition claimed this would provide a 'cheaper, cleaner, and more consistent alternative' to coal or renewables. Many did not share the Coalition's enthusiasm for the policy and were concerned about its many documented risks, such as the effects of radiation on humans and animals."

Podcasts vs Justice by Jess Harwood

"The mushroom murder trial of Erin Patterson spawned at least five dedicated podcasts and countless news reports. Around the same time there was a coronial inquest into the death of Kumanjayi Walker, a Warlpiri man who was shot and killed by police while resisting arrest in the remote Aboriginal community of Yuendumu, Northern Territory. The inquest found that Walker's death was 'avoidable' and should not have happened."

Farewell to Old England Forever by Mirranda Burton

"This rabbit X-ray refers to the pests that were brought to Australia on the First Fleet and which now number in their hundreds of millions. Recent favourable conditions have seen the population boom, leading to calls for federal support to fast-track the next rabbit biocontrol virus. Rabbits cost the Australian agricultral sector $200 million a year, twice as much as do foxes and mice. They also threaten double the number of native species compared to other introduced animals."

There is a strong contingent of American news and concerns. Of course, this makes me question whether American newspapers and cartoonists would be interested/ aware of anything taking place beyond their shores. 

Inflammation of a Nation by Matt Golding

"This cartoon appeared in June 2025, not long after the protests in the city of Los Angeles against ICE abductions and deportations of undocumented people. The protests lasted several days and in response President Donald Trump sent in 4,100 Califormia National Guard troops and 700 Marines, sparking widespread debate about the boundaries of presidential power."

Burning by Cathy Wilcox

"In January 2025 a series of 14 wildfires caused significant damage and loss of life in the Los Angeles metropolitan area and San Diego County in California, United States. Two of the fires were considered to have been the second and third most destructive ones in California's history. Reports said more than 18,000 homes were destroyed and up to 440 people were killed as a reslt of the fires."

The Wake-up Call? by Mark Knight

"American democracy has been put to the test in 2025, with nearly double the number of politically motivated attacks than for the same period in the previous year. In September conservative activist Charlie Kirk was killed while speaking on a Utah collage campus. This followed two assassination attempts on Donald Trump during his 2024 presidential election campaign. Politicians and national figures have been targeted throughout America's history; pictured here are Abraham Lincoln, John and Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr, all of whom were assassinated, and Ronald Regan, who survived the attempt on his life."

Global politics and events are also included, such as this gut-punching cartoon from Cathy Wilcox.

Exodus by Cathy Wilcox

"In September a UN Commisssion of Inquiry released a report stating that Israel was committing genocide in Gaza. It detailed the targeting of citizens, including children, in far larger numbers than in  previous conflicts; the blocking of medical aid, foood and water; and acts aimed at 'deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physcal destruction in whole or in part'. The Israeli government rejected the report, saying it relied 'entirely on Hamas falsehoods'.

A couple of the works feel quite personal as they address the individual and their relation to art. 

Overflow vs Flow by Megan Herbert

"Megan Herbert captures the dilemma of many creative people,  particularly freelancers, as they try to carve out a sustainable career in Australia. The federal government's five-year Revive policy, which has been in place for almost three years, has the 'Centrality of the Artist' as a key pillar, an acknowledgment of the need for career structure and fair remuneration. Living a creative life has always been a precarious position, even without the disruptive threat of  generative AI."

Put Things in Perspective by Scott Wrigg

"According to The Guardian, Gen Z is taking up 'cosy' hobbies in 2025 as a way to de-stress, find connection and create tangible objects in an increasingly digital world. From pottery classes to cooking clubs, arts and crafts are being used as a positive mood booster and a way to regain some perspective. Sometimes, though, art can do the opposite and give us too much perspective."

Antisocial Media by Megan Herbert

"Phones used to be simple devices that connected two voices separated by great distances. Now we have smartphones, incredibly sophisticated, multifaceted communication devices that can spread messages to millions in milliseconds. However, there's growing anxiety about people using them to fuel extremism and spread misinformation."

The Problems of the World by Rosie Murrell

"In this cartoon a crowd of people, seemingly disconnected from each other, are looking down at their phones, doomscrolling, consuming negative news online. As Rosie Murrell said when she posted the image to Instagram, they - and we - are 'wondering what we can possibly do to stop any of it. And the exhaustion of it.'"

Looking through all these political cartoons can actually get quite depressing as we see the state of the world with greed, war, famine, and basic inhumanity. So, I'll finish the post with a positive cartoon.

Horses for Courses by Fiona Katauskas

"The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse from the New Testament's Book of Revelations symbolise conquest, war, famine and death and herald the 'end of days' that will precede the Last Judgment and the damnation or salvation of souls. Fiona Katauskas's horsemen, however, have decided enough is enough and have pivoted to harbingers of hope."

Bedtime stories: Witches Abroad

Witches Abroad by Terry Pratchett

Corgi Books

Pp.286

This, the twelfth novel in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series, is the second that revolves specifically around the three witches: Granny Weatherwax; Nanny Ogg and Magrat. In Wyrd Sisters, readers were introduced to these characters, and it is a delight to welcome them back like old friends. Magrat inherits a wand from Desiderata so she must become a fairy godmother and interfere in stories: she can’t help but turn things into pumpkins and she tries to stop Embers from going to the ball and marrying a prince, who is, in fact, a frog. Stories have power because they inform belief, and those who control the narrative have the greatest power of all.

It transpires that Granny Weatherwax has a sister, Lily – now calling herself Lilith – who wants to force people into enacting the stereotypes of the fairytales, living in a land where everyone must be happy whether they like it or not. Lily lets several stories happen simultaneously; like the evil queen who appears in the mirror, she uses mirror magic as a form of control. She has her own form of power (is she the good or the bad witch, and which one does that make Granny Weatherwax?). “She had buried three husbands, and at least two of them had been already dead.” Pratchett touches upon myths and legends as well as fairytales, so Circe, Bluebeard, Casanova, vampires and the Wizard of Oz intermingle with Cinderella, Rumpelstiltskin, the Three Little Pigs, Little Red Riding Hood, the Three Bears, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty – “There’ll be a spinning wheel at the bottom of all this, you mark my words.”

As the witches set off to right the wrongs of the world, they learn about the structure of stories: “Three was an important number for stories. Three wishes, three princes, three billy goats, three guesses… three witches. The maiden, the mother and the… other one. That was one of the oldest stories of all.” Naturally, not all these conventions are true, for example, “The natural size of a coven is one. Witches only get together when they can’t avoid it.” Meanwhile, Nanny Ogg sends postcards home to our Jason, about what it’s like to be abroad or in foreign parts (where they do odd things like ‘drink fizzy wine out of ladies’ boots’) and obviously the structure and convention of writing postcards is its own artform – sadly, practically lost in 2023.

Granny Weatherwax dislikes stories because she thinks they are unnatural, and they try to make people conform. “You get too involved with stories, you get confused. You don’t know what’s really real and what isn’t. And they get you in the end. They send you weird in the head. I don’t like stories. They’re not real. I don’t like things that ain’t real.” She explains the laissez-faire approach to life. “You can’t go around building a better world for people. Only people can build a better world for people. Otherwise it’s just a cage.” One could contend that she (and by association Pratchett) is arguing against interventional socialism. “No more stories. No more godmothers. Just people, deciding for themselves. For good or bad. Right or wrong.” Or one could just enjoy it as a right rollicking story of witches abroad.

COVID-19 Friday Five: More Podcasts

We're allowed two hours of exercise now. I walk. I listen. Sometimes I listen to the birds and sometimes I listen to podcasts. Here are some of the podcasts to which I listen.

5 Podcasts:

1. David Tennant Does a Podcast With... (Somethin' Else and No Mystery) - The former Doctor Who star chats with his showbiz friends. It's very star-studded and a bit lovely-dahling, but it makes one realise how many great actors he has worked with, from Judi Dench, Olivia Colman, Elisabeth Moss, Billie Piper and Cush Jumbo to Ian McKellan, Neil Gaiman, Michal Sheen, John Hamm and Brian Cox. At this stage there is no Season 3 planned, but there are still 21 episodes to get to grips with at this stage.



2. Eyes on Gilead (SBS) - As a companion podcast to The Handmaid's Tale, a group of intelligent and interested viewers (Fiona Williams; Haidee Ireland; Sanar Qadar; Natalie Hambly) discuss and dissect each episode after it has finished. More than just examining the plot, they suggest possibilities and refer to design and direction elements that highlight the intricacies of the show. There are also bonus interviews with actors (special love for Yvonne Strahovski - well, it is Australian), composers, make-up artists, costume designers, directors and the series creator. It's one for the fans. 



3. Natalie Haynes Stands up for the Classics (BBC Radio 4) - a friend introduced me to this podcast after I read Natalie Haynes' A Thousand Ships, which re-tells the story of The Illiad from the perspective of the women involved (it's excellent - more on that later). In a sort-of spin-off from the original series, Natalie Haynes does a series within the podcast in which she 'sits down' for the myths. In a move that will surprise absolutley no one, the first one I listened to was on Penelope. There are also episodes on The Odyssey, Clytemnestra, Helen of Troy, Penthesilea and Medusa. Plus, there are the original episodes on Cicero, Plato, Sophocles, Virgil, Ovid, Aristotle, etc. It's told in a light, informative and entertaining manner. I remember most of it, and can happily go back a few weeks later to remind myself of the bits I missed first time around. 



4. The Poet Laureate Has Gone to His Shed (BBC Radio 4) - I've got a bit of a thing for Simon Armitage. No, not like that (although I do love his voice). I've met him (twice) and I'm in his book, Gig (although not by name). He taught at the polytechnic where I studied (although not at the same time) and we know some of the same people, and have a shared interest in myth (The Odyssey; The Green Knight; King Arthur). He is busy writing haiku in his shed at the bottom of his garden (or so he would have us believe) and he interviews some iconic figures from my growing-up days. So far I have listened to the episodes featuring Jo Whiley, JK Rowling and Johnny Marr. I look forward to listening to the back catalogue including interviews with Maxine Peake, Antony Gormley and HRH Prince Charles.



5. The Skewer (BBC Radio 4) - Described as the news retwisted as a comedy treat, it is a biting satire on politics and current events using the very effective sampling techniques that put words into other people's mouths. It's irreverent and devastating in 15-min chunks with dazzling wit and British pop-culture references that might stump some living outside the UK.

It Comes to Us All: Reaper Man

Reaper Man by Terry Pratchett

Corgi Books

Pp. 287

Reaper Man is the eleventh Discworld novel and fleshes out the character of Death, as it were. In this adventure, Death’s time is running out; things aren’t dying the way they should be, which interrupts the fabric of existence; and everything is “filling up the world with life force.” Windle Poons is the oldest wizard in the world, and he is supposed to die, but Death doesn’t show up to collect him, so he doesn’t. Instead, he becomes a member of the Fresh Start Club, a dead rights activism group led by Reg Shoe and comprising other undead folk, such as a vampire and his wife who is desperately trying to conform to stereotype; including wearing certain clothes and speaking with a strong Eastern European accent. We also encounter Ludmilla, a werewolf who changes from woman to dog at full moon, a male dog, Lupine, who changes to human form at the same time, and a bogeyman called Schleppel who likes to lurk behind doors, so much so that he carries his own with him.

Meanwhile, oblivious to all the chaos, Death assumes the mantle of Bill Door and finds work at Miss Flitworth’s farm as an actual reaper man, helping with the harvest, leading to an extended gag about a scythe vs a Combination Harvester. As his time runs out both literally and metaphorically through a sort of egg-timer/ hour glass, he attempts to fit in with the villagers, drinking beer and playing darts. “It was amazing how many friends you could make by being bad at things, provided you were bad enough to be funny.” He is not used to living, which he finds odd, but also confronting. “Was that what it was really like to be alive? The feeling of darkness dragging you forward? How could they live with it? And yet they did, and even seemed to find enjoyment in it, when surely the only sensible course would be to despair.”

Delightful cameo appearances and side swipes at conventional wisdom, recall a fantasy Dickens. Mrs Cake is a clairvoyant who is able to answer questions before people have asked them – they still have to ask them anyway. The faculty wizards at the Unseen University get all sorts of things muddles, which makes for moments of humour, for example, when the Archdeacon (Ridcully) suggests that an RSVP is requested to an invitation, the Bursar exclaims, “Oh, good, I like sherry.” Ridcully himself is “simple-minded. This doesn’t mean stupid. It just meant that he could only think properly about things if he cut away all the complicated bits around the edges.”

The plot is suitably fanciful as evil snow globes hatch into shopping trolleys that converge on places, operating like worker ants or bees around a queen. This might or might not be the case; it is difficult to know for sure. As with all of Terry Pratchett’s work, there is a comically reverent tone to the rituals of human life. He refers to belief as an entity that “sloshes around in the firmament like lumps of clay spiralling into a potter’s wheel” seeking to attach itself to things, such as gods and icons.

Despite all this absurdity and hilarity, there is a touching homily on the nature and meaning of life. “No one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away – until the clock he wound up winds down, until the wine she has made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone’s life, they say, is only the core of their actual existence.” Terry Pratchett is comfort reading for a variety of reasons: his turn of phrase; his ridiculous characters; his twinkling humour and his gentle satire, but above all it is his strong moral compass that truly points the way and keeps his readers coming back.

"A Little Bit of Politics': Number Ten

Number Ten by Sue Townsend

Penguin

Pp. 324

Satire is a problematic genre. From Jonathan Swift and Charles Dickens to Douglas Adams, J.K. Rowling and Paul Beatty, authors struggle to find the balance of serious points amidst the comedy in socio-politics. In Number Ten the Prime Minister, Edward Clare, fears that he is out of touch with country (he doesn’t know the price of milk; I think many men of a certain age don’t) so, accompanied by Jack Sprat, a policeman who normally stands outside the door of No 10, he sets out on a public relations odyssey.

Just as Shakespeare’s Henry V disguised himself as a commoner to move among his people, so Edward Clare disguises himself as a woman, borrowing his wife’s clothes, and calls himself Edwina. This is a little cringe-worthy and hovers dangerously around the Mrs Brown’s Boys/ Dick Emery/ Les Dawson/ man-in-drag-is-hilarious trope. Edward soon discovers that he likes dressing as a woman, even if he does resemble “a poor man’s Joan Collins” and there are further references to the film Some Like it Hot: the novel immediately aligns itself with a certain demographic.

The Labour Prime Minister’s formidably clever wife, Adele, is described as “an absolute cow”. He has a swarm of advisors, including Alexander McPherson, “political friend and colleague, his press officer”, and David Samuelson, the spin doctor, who wants to change the name of the party by taking ‘Labour’ out of the party’s name. “The word Labour has totally negative connotations; it’s associated with sweat and hard work, trade unionism and protracted and painful childbirth.” Added to the entourage is Chancellor of the Exchequer, Malcolm Black, who may have his own political designs. Obviously we are meant to draw parallels with Blair’s government with Gordon Brown waiting in the wings, but it also sits halfway between Yes, Prime Minister and The Thick of It.

Policeman, Jack Sprat, is the foil to the shenanigans; a sort of Everyman who becomes the Prime Minister’s conscious, arguing politics with him supported by information he has picked up on duty. For example, when Edward Clare is championing laissez faire politics, in which people can plough their own furrow, Jack counters, “They could plough a straighter furrow with a better plough and a healthier cart horse.” His mother, Norma, is afraid to leave the house due to media-hyped fear-mongering. She takes in a young man as a cleaner, and he abuses her trust and turns the place into a crack den, highlighting the issue of single elderly people being taken advantage of by disenchanted youth. When asked his opinion about what most concerns the people of this country, Jack replies, “It’s crime sir. There should be more policemen on the streets.”

Times and references change very quickly, and this is also a very British book; name drops such as Graham Norton, Adele, Ben Elton, Simon Armitage, Gary Lineker, and Ulrika Jonsson are very time-and-place specific. The novel touches on many current topics of concern, from sink-hole estates and battery farming to chaotic A&E departments and lack of common courtesy on public transport.

People feel under pressure to perform; success is difficult to manage and the reader may find themselves sympathising with Edward Clare as not altogether a bad person. He may be out of touch, but he has so much stress that he has a breakdown. The psychotherapist who questions him notes that he cannot name his favourite flower, rock band, or book. “He is pathologically unable to commit to an opinion for fear of displeasing the questioner, in this case me.” The Prime Minister has many people’s opinions to consider, and that is his job. How can he be expected to know everything? Is it his duty to take these worries from us? Or would we rather have ‘a man of the people’? Which people? Would we end up with something a lot worse?

In the midst of this angst, we have the character of Adele. There are enough Shakespearean references for the reader to surmise that she is intended as a parody of Lady Macbeth: she drives him onwards; he feels the guilt. She is not portrayed sympathetically but, although she is unpleasant (self-centred; pompous; oblivious to the misery of a member of staff whose son is about to lose a leg), she is also clearly unwell, and on medication. Her symptoms are ridiculed as a diversion, and the opportunity to show some empathy for mental illness is missed, as is the chance to portray a non-white character, Ali the Pakistani taxi-driver, as anything other than a shallow stereotype. These are the major failings in what is otherwise a passably amusing novel.

Cold Comfort Farm

Cold Comfort Farm by Paul Doust, based on the novel by Stella Gibbons, directed by Tanya Gibbons, produced by Stagecraft Theatre

Gryphon Theatre, Wellington, until 15 November

To produce a theatrical adaptation of a 1930s comic parody of a gothic romance set in rural England is a hell of a challenge, but it is one that Stagecraft and director Tanya Piejus rise to with aplomb.

Satire and slapstick don’t sit easily together as they are respectively cerebral and visceral, but this production teases out the best of both worlds, leaving the audience with a sense of satisfaction, rather than nausea, which is what might result if it all went horribly wrong.

Flora Poste (Charlotte Stevens) arrives at Cold Comfort Farm like some sort of cross between Mary Poppins and Pollyanna to sort out her assortment of dysfunctional relatives. She flies in (in an aeroplane – affected by a model plane on a wire swooping through the auditorium) to declare that she ‘cannot endure a mess’ and to sort them all out and tidy them all up – whether they want it or not.

Flora is based on one of Jane Austen’s supercilious heroines. Depending on your opinion, Austen creates distinctive characters who are either vivacious and perky or pretentious and smug, and Charlotte Stevens portrays her to a tee. Her upright bearing and prim expression are perfect, although her constant furniture straightening and arm waving get a bit distracting. I want to slap her. But then, I want to slap Austen’s Emma, so this is clearly the desired effect.

Aunt Ada Doom rules the roost with her extreme version of madness – this is an actor’s gift and Ginny Brewer accepts it with delight. The ingenious set design allows her to see ‘something naarrrsty in the woodshed’ from behind a screen, playing with her shadow and cackling like some hyperbolic anti-heroine – what a transformation when she emerges dazzling from her cocoon and sweeps away on a Harley!

Petra Donnison is magnificent as the extremely depressed, and equally obsessed, Judith, the reverse-Oedipal mother of Seth. Seth himself is admirably played by Greg Hornsby with surly charisma that has the women falling over themselves to dance with him when he scrubs up well in a tuxedo. Seth is a good character but not a nice person – he is constantly taunting Rennet and Judith. When he is plucked to become a film-star you wonder vaguely how he will cope in the shallow, vacuous world of Hollywood, but you don’t really care.

Indeed, the only truly sympathetic character in the play is Reuben (Alan Carabott). Despite, or perhaps because of, Carabott’s magnificence at playing comedic characters, he is the only one with whom I have any connection. I want him to take over the farm and his gentle but simple strength is an anchor of calm amid the shambolic sea.

The wild and windswept Elfine (Elyse Featherstone) writes poetry (‘I thought you might’) and wears smocks (‘There is no such thing as a good smock’). She whirls about the stage and twirls her hair around her fingers, fidgety and restless more like a petulant child than a romantic heroine. When she sweeps Eliza Doolittle-like down the staircase, there is no thought to what might become of the young protégé and how she will adapt to chic society.

Robert Hickey plays evangelical Amos with burning fervour, whipping up his flock, the Quivering Brethren, with fire, brimstone and a warming pan (‘In Hell there is no butter’ is one of the best delivered lines of the play), which makes his double-role as bumbling butler, Sneller, all the more remarkable.

There is a lot of doubling in the play, executed most effectively by Tomas Rimmer from rustic slapstick Urk to smooth talking (and dressing) Richard Hawk-Monitor. Felicity Cozens also morphs seamlessly from gorgeously gormless facial expressions as dumb bewildered Rennet, constantly throwing herself down the well, to demonic histrionics as the other mother, Mrs Hawk-Monitor.

Stephen Fearnley, apparently in his 150th production, dextrously plays both a farming yokel and an American film producer which is a pretty tricky combination. This brings us to another challenge of the production: the accent. The rural Sussex dialect, complete with faux vocabulary (mollocking; sukebind; clettering), is not an easy one to master but it is integral to the play. The accents wander all over the country with hints of Yorkshire and the Midlands in places but the actors refuse to be distracted by the geographical ramblings.

Tanya Piejus copes creatively with difficult staging issues from the cardboard cut-outs of extra characters needed when Aunt Ada does a head count, to the non-too-subtle lighting changes and the rising of the moon. Special mention must go to the foley operator, Robyn Sadlier who is both amusing and unobtrusive as she conducts proceedings from on-stage.

By the end, Flora has tidied up all the loose ends and provided solutions for everyone with the aid of her trusty literature – The Higher Common Sense, Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park, and a copy of Vogue. Each character has a denouement with the puppet master and the tempo drops. This series of talking heads could have been dispatched more neatly, or even cut altogether.

The chorus of Quivering Brethren literally sweeps the stage clear and, as in Shakespearean comedy, everything ends happily ever after with a wedding. But are these ends tied up as neatly as Flora thinks, or is she going to retreat and let it all unravel? If played differently, with the cutting satire highlighted above the comic visuals, this could have taken on a whole new meaning.

A common analysis of Stella Gibbons’ original novel is that Flora is the personification of British imperialism, and this interpretation adds weight to that theory. She is bright and brittle and keen to confide in the audience, indicating that she is above these people and their squalid affectations, while imagining herself as the shining beacon in the centre of their world.

With nods to Shakespearean comedy, the Brontes, DH Lawrence and George Bernard Shaw, the play spins off in a literary jitter-bug. It is aided by terrific costumes and dialogue sprinkled with words like utterly, terrific, spiffing, top hole and wizard. It’s entirely ridiculous and yet it’s adorable. The more I think about it, the more I like it, in some inexplicable way.