Kelli O’Hara’s drunken pratfalls, along with Rose Byrne’s wildly skewed wig, mark the high point in the low comedy that most distinguishes this century-old trifle, written by a young Noel Coward as an attempt at a scandalous French farce for the English stage. “Fallen Angels” was viewed as “vulgar, disgusting, shocking…degenerate” when it debuted in London in 1925, as Coward later recalled, because the two main characters are two upper class English wives ardently awaiting their former, mutual, French lover. It’s hard to imagine a strong reaction, one way or another, to the Roundabout’s production opening at the Todd Haimes Theater tonight, the first Broadway revival of the play in seventy years. Yes, there are traces of the wicked Coward wit, although it’s not as sharp as the playwright’s more frequently produced comedies (Blithe Spirit, Hay Fever, Present Laughter, Private Lives.) There is also an appealing elegance in the stately English drawing room designed by David Rockwell, in the 1920s fashionable couture designed by Jeff Mahshie, even in the (sometimes indecipherable) aristocratic British accents designed by voice coach Kate Wilson. But the main draw of this production are the two poised and celebrated actresses, and the main pleasure is watching them dive ass-first into the slapstick.
Julia Sterroll (Kelli O’Hara) and Jane Banbury (Rose Byrne) have been friends since childhood. Some seven years ago, Julia married Fred Sterroll (Aasif Mandvi), and around the same time Jane married Willy Banbury (Christopher Fitzgerald.) The two men are themselves good friends and golfing buddies. On this particular day, the men go off together on a golf trip. Before they leave, though, Julia tells Fred that she is no longer in love with him, although she still loves him; the passion has gone out of their marriage. Apparently, Jane has said much the same to Willy, although we don’t see that scene, since the only set is the Sterroll’s London flat.
Once the men are gone, Jane tells Julia that their old beau, Maurice Duclos (Mark Consuelos) is coming to town. This excites them and unnerves them in equal measure. They are not sure what to do: Should they both escape to another country to avoid falling under his spell, or should they face him bravely; should one go and one stay?
Julia says: “I want terribly badly to be a true, faithful wife, and look after Fred and live in peace, and I want terribly to have violent and illicit love made to me and be frenziedly happy and supremely miserable.”
Jane says: “We’re both in the same boat. But the most awful contingency is that one of us may give in utterly, leaving the other shrouded forever in unrewarded virtue.”
Faced with this dilemma, they bicker while lighting each other’s cigarettes with super-long holders, and they get fall-down drunk (which is where much of the physical comedy comes in.) Jane storms off; they each suspect the other of treachery. Much misunderstanding ensues. It’s only in the last few minutes that we finally meet the suave Maurice, a scene that I found a tad awkward and confusing until the devishly clever coda, but at least Maurice lives up to his suave reputation as portrayed by a game Mark Consuelos making his Broadway debut j(ust blocks away from the theater where his son Joaquin Consuelos is making his Broadway debut, in Death of a Salesman.)
All this is meant to be hilarious, and some people in the audience certainly laughed where they were supposed to. But it was not just Jane’s wig that felt skewed. Three of the six cast members are known for their comic chops. Tracee Chimo as the new maid Saunders does get a subtle shtick throughout as super competent and connected (she learned piano from “Madam Carmen Granado, the celebrated concert pianist,” she was in the desert with the Red Cross; “… When I was entertaining the troops.”)
But the two husbands are little more than straight men. The renowned physical comedian Christopher Fitzgerald (Ogie in Waitress! Boq in Wicked!) portrays Fred Sterroll as a stuffed shirt who mostly stands around looking bemused; one of the funniest things about him is the double-entendre of his name.
If Noel Coward’s play can be credited as proto-feminist for depicting women with sexual desire that is just as strong as a man’s (certainly stronger than their husbands’), could director Scott Ellis be trying to prove that graceful, beautiful actresses are equal to any male clown in their ability to plotz?
Fallen Angels
Todd Haimes Theatre through June 7, 2026
Running time: 90 minutes no intermission
Tickets: $72 – $274
Written by Noel Coward
Directed by Scott Ellis
Set design by David Rockwell, costume design by Jeff Mahshie, lighting design by Kenneth Posner, sound design by John Gromada, hair and wig design by David Brian Brown and Victoria Tinsman, additional material by Claudia Shear, music consultant Mary Mitchell Campbell, voice coach Kate Wilson
Cast: Rose Byrne as Jane Banbury, Kelli O’Hara as Julia Sterroll, Tracee Chimo as Saunders, Mark Consuelos as Maurice Duclos, Christopher Fitzgerald as Willy Banbury, Aasif Mandvi as Fred Sterroll.
