Penny Dreadfuls: Aeneas Faversham Forever

"Caper" is a word underused in modern English. Today’s action/adventure/thrillers are replete with special effects, but the Victorian notion of the caper has largely passed from contemporary entertainment. Our culture is poorer for it; if only Steven Spielberg had signed up the Penny Dreadfuls for the latest Indiana Jones film, because by George, can they do a good caper.

The precision of both their scripting and delivery is remarkable. No opportunities are missed or misused, and despite their regularity, the gags are always fresh. Clearly the trio's talents as improv performers are not wasted on their first full-length scripted piece.

Not content with joke-peddling, the Dreadfuls are adept storytellers, weaving a coherent and compelling mystery in amongst the humour. Funny walks and hammed-up accents abound, but the trio also find time for irreverence towards theatre itself. The banter is sharp, and nothing is spared the knife – every comic situation is, like one of the more unfortunate characters, “completely murdered.”

Without exaggeration, they are heirs to the madcap humour that made Monty Python so captivating. Theirs is true situational wit; with many of the biggest names in British standup abandoning creativity in favour of piss-taking and cringe comedy, it’s reassuring that young performers like the Penny Dreadfuls know the difference between ‘Things That Are Funny’ and ‘Making Fun Of Things.’ Their art is meant for a bigger stage; if they aren’t on television or in films within ten years, it won’t be their fault. Speilberg can be excused, for now – but could someone please make the necessary introductions?