Theatre

It’s appropriate that ‘The Man of Mode’ coincides with London Fashion Week, for its action teems with sleekly styled narcissists and elegant sybarites. When George Etherege penned this silkworm’s fancy of a piece in 1676, he filled it with characters based on the brightest stars of Restoration society circles, which is why, today, it seems like perfect comedy for those who think the most vital news comes in ‘Tatler’.

Vicki Mortimer’s set – like the characters – is all shiny surfaces and hard corners. Emails replace billets-doux, while overpriced drinks in sleek glasses are the drug of choice. A plotline about an arranged marriage is updated to a predicament for two trendy young Asians playing games with domineering parents. And into this, Tom Hardy’s Dorimant struts like a man who’s dipped his well-coutured toe into every kind of sexual configuration.

The strange paradox of Hardy’s performance is that while he masterfully captures his character’s physicality, vocally he’s lacking. He has no problem delivering his lines; it’s an issue of rhythm and resonance, and without his relaxing and bringing out more feral nuances, the story of his serial seductions can feel as insubstantial as a size-zero model’s cake allowance.

Two actors far more at home in this pleasantly poisonous world are the excellent Rory Kinnear as Sir Fopling Flutter, and Nancy Carroll as a Katharine Hepburnesque Mrs Loveit. Kinnear erupts onto the stage in an ecstasy of self-consciousness and aftershave; a song, performed on an upright piano, is a masterclass in comic timing and  affectation.

Through such touches, Nicholas Hytner’s production – interspersed with the leaps and twirls of French traceurs – is a piquant delight. Though short on gravitas, it’s abundant in the kind of glamour that for some makes the world go round.