Austentatious Tour - Nottingham Playhouse Review

★★★☆☆

Austentatious at Nottingham Playhouse proves once again why this improvised Jane Austen parody has become one of the UK’s most reliable comedy theatre experiences, but can a show built on chaos truly sustain its brilliance over a two-hour runtime?

The Cast of Austentatious.

Each performance of Austentatious begins with a title suggested by the audience, and on this particular evening, Nottingham gifted the company a novel simply called “Brian.” What followed was a deliriously inventive Regency pastiche involving Francesco “Brian” Brianista, an Italian artist, and a rival suitor in the form of Nottingham legend Brian Clough. Around this absurd central triangle was a tale of love, status, and social absurdity, complete with Austen-esque misunderstandings and romantic declarations. The plot was built in real time, shaped by a single audience suggestion and the performer's instinct, and destined never to be repeated.

What makes Austentatious so consistently impressive is that it never feels like chaos, even though it absolutely is. This is not a university improv group throwing ideas at the wall and hoping something sticks; it is a company operating with near-military precision under the guise of spontaneity. The performers draw on a shared language of Austen tropes, drawing-room etiquette, suppressed longing, and a basketful of Strepsils and Imodium. Scenes are rarely allowed to outstay their welcome; they are cut with confidence when the actors believe they have fully juiced the comedic orange. Though on occasion, the improvisational cross-talk can muddy the waters, leaving both the audience and actors trying to catch up. 

The humour itself operates on multiple levels simultaneously. There is the highbrow pleasure of watching Austen’s narrative machinery gently mocked, the mid-tier delight of clever wordplay and callbacks, and the sheer silliness of physical comedy and outrageous accents. The result is a show that feels both intelligent and accessible, capable of rewarding literary knowledge while never depending on it.

Perhaps one minor miscalculation was the addition of Nottingham-specific material. While the inclusion of local references is always a welcome improvisational tool, here it became something of a double-edged sword. The show leaned heavily into football, unsurprisingly given the city, but the cast’s, and many in the audience’s, limited knowledge of the sport led to a series of jokes that felt more confusing than incisive. Watching Rachel Parris confidently reference the Leicester Tigers as a football team was, admittedly, very funny, but not necessarily for the right reasons (They’re a rugby team!). Here, the improvisation became less about heightening the world of the play and more about navigating knowledge gaps, which slightly undercut the otherwise slick illusion of mastery, during a penalty shoot-out/duel.

Still, what keeps the show buoyant is the ensemble itself. This is not a star vehicle; it is a collective effort driven by shared instinct and trust. Cariad Lloyd, Rachel Parris, Charlie Kemp, Lauren Shearing, Graham Dickson, and Charlotte Gittins operate as a single comedic organism, listening, responding, and elevating each other’s ideas in real time. Truly embracing the ‘Yes, and’ mindset. There is a visible joy in their collaboration, a sense that they are as entertained by the unfolding narrative as the audience is. The joy is infectious. It is also the reason the show works: when one performer falters, another steps in seamlessly, turning their mistake into comic gold, whilst ensuring the rhythm never collapses.

Unlike many improv shows that rely solely on dialogue, Austentatious integrates live music and improvised technical elements into its fabric. The onstage musician responds in real time, underscoring scenes with emotional nuance, comedic timing, and an approximation of the Match of the Day Theme Tune, while lighting cues shift dynamically to support the action and transitions between scenes. This expands the improvisation beyond acting into a fully realised theatrical language.

The first half thrives on invention and escalation, but as narrative threads multiply, the second half becomes an increasingly precarious balancing act. Long-form improv has an inherent problem: endings. Whilst it’s true that the show doesn’t have the clarity and satisfaction of a tightly written Austen narrative, the audience isn’t expecting it to! What this ensemble does wonderfully is pull together as many threads as humanly possible to ensure most characters feel resolved.

Austentatious originated as a Fringe theatre production, where brevity is an asset and improvisation thrives under constraint. Expanding it into a full-length piece allows for greater ambition, and one can’t help but feel that a shorter format might sharpen the experience, but equally, reducing it would mean sacrificing the very expansiveness that makes the show feel like a fully formed “novel.” It is a delicate tightrope, and one that the production walks with a level of success.

What remains undeniable is that Austentatious has mastered its form. This is not a show trying to reinvent theatre; it is a show that understands exactly what it is and executes it with exceptional skill. It is a highly disciplined theatrical machine disguised as chaos, powered by an elite ensemble and a refined improvisational structure. For audiences, the result is a reliably joyful evening. It may not always land every narrative beat, and it may occasionally wander off course, but it delivers something rare: a sense of genuine spontaneity, of theatre being created in the moment. And in an industry often defined by repetition and precision, that feels quietly radical.

Austentatious may not tie every thread into a perfect Austenian bow, but it charms, delights, and improvises its way into your affections, proving that even in chaos, there can be a great deal of sense and sensibility.