The Government Inspector

Chichester Festival Theatre launches its 2025 season with The Government Inspector, Nikolai Gogol’s blistering satire on institutional corruption, newly adapted by Phil Porter and directed by Gregory Doran. Premiering on the same night as the UK’s local elections, the production arrives with a sharp sense of topicality, but not, unfortunately, with the sharpness of wit to match.

Originally penned by the Ukrainian playwright with scathing economy and precision, Gogol’s 1836 farce skewered a bureaucratic system rotten to its core. Porter’s reimagining, however, replaces that biting clarity with repetition and over-extension, hoping that indulgence alone will coax out the comedy. In the play’s final moments, a drawn-out freeze-frame stretches from chuckle to tedium, its comic timing collapsing under the weight of its own self-awareness.

Throughout, the clash between Gogol’s succinct satire and Porter’s broader brushstrokes produces tonal dissonance. The result is a production that lurches rather than flows, struggling with clunky dialogue and meandering scenes. At times, the play feels better suited to the screen, evoking echoes of Fawlty Towers more than modern theatrical satires like Dario Fo’s Accidental Death of an Anarchist, a comparable production in defenestration and political jest.

That said, the production is not without charm. Tom Rosenthal, best known for Friday Night Dinner, delights in his limited stage time as Khlestakov, the mistaken inspector from St. Petersburg. His weaselly bravado finds a foil in Nick Haverson’s Osip, his lugubrious servant, who would feel more at home if the surrounding material were tighter.

There are glimpses of theatrical flair: one particularly effective moment involving a snow machine and an ensemble-driven scene transition offers a brief glimpse into the consequences of unchecked deception. It’s a stylish beat, smartly staged, but fleeting. The production quickly retreats into overlong comedic set-pieces that sap rather than sustain momentum.

The real comic standouts are Paul Rider and Miltos Yerolemou as the buffoonish Dobchinsky and Bobchinsky. Dressed alike and often speaking in eerie synchronicity, they embody the slapstick absurdity of Gogol’s world with infectious glee. Their scenes offer much-needed energy, even if their appearances feel like life rafts in otherwise choppy waters.

Ultimately, The Government Inspector feels like a production unsure of its identity, torn between faithful satire, surrealist comedy, and broad pantomime. While the cast commits wholeheartedly, and Doran’s direction occasionally strikes gold, the script’s uneven tone and sluggish pace keep it from landing the political punch it promises.

Though buoyed by a committed cast and the occasional flash of stagecraft brilliance, The Government Inspector at Chichester is a muddled affair, ambitious in scope but imprecise in execution. A timely choice for the season opener, perhaps, but one that ultimately delivers more noise than insight.

The Government Inspector plays at Chichester Festival Theatre until Saturday 24 May.