Filumena review – Felicity Kendal and Matthew Kelly go toe to toe in Naples

A quirk of Eduardo de Filippo’s 1946 Neapolitan comedy is that it opens in the aftermath of what could have been its best scene. Domenico has just married his long-neglected partner, Filumena, on her deathbed, only to find her leap from the sheets in rude health, delighted with the trick she has played. As Sean Mathias’s production gets under way, Matthew Kelly strides about in indignant rage at the discovery while Felicity Kendal watches in silence, her impish smile and a slight shake of the hand speaking volumes.

It is an amusing introduction that sets up a play about relationships put to the test, yet without the enticing strangeness of the Italian playwright’s subsequent and superior Grand Magic . After seeing whether he loves her enough to marry her, Filumena springs another surprise: would he also bring into the family her three hitherto secret sons (Gavin Fowler, Fabrizio Santino and George Banks)?

Using an English version by Keith Waterhouse and Willis Hall, this revival stretches the length of time that Domenico has taken Filumena for granted. Their relationship has lasted 35 years, rather than De Filippo’s 25. (Both characters were written to be around 50 yet are played here by actors more than 20 years older.) It brings an added note of bitterness when Filumena says she has been treated as a workhorse while Domenico had his eye on racehorses.

There are a few sparks with the arrival of his mistress (Jodie Steele) and some other incidental delights but this tale of births, marriages and deaths falls short on big, believable emotions. One exception is Filumena’s speech about a stifling childhood spent in the slums, with sex work presented as her only exit route. It contrasts with the male characters’ misty-eyed memories, which rarely go beyond victories at the racetrack and conquests in the bedroom.

A lengthy first act has the couple trade threats, recriminations and insults yet without reaching uproarious comedy and frequently reducing the supporting actors to bystanders (Julie Legrand and Sarah Twomey fare best). Kelly, sporting a dastardly moustache, has deft touches of light humour yet the arguments would have greater charge if his Domenico was more bullish. Kendal, face framed by a tumble of curls, has a hint of Anna Magnani in her resilience. (The role was played on screen, in Marriage Italian Style, by Sophia Loren.) She adds Italian accents to a script that occasionally presents colloquialisms in place of Neapolitan dialect: Filumena is accused of looking “like a wet weekend”. In the second act, the sparring is replaced by pleading, promises and second guesses, but the transformations fail to convince.

Despite Morgan Large’s splendid dining room, with its ceiling fresco and elegant windows, the flavour of Naples is largely absent – as are the political tensions of the era – although class is used to differentiate the three sons. De Filippo’s message of unconditional love, wrapped up in the tender assertion that “a child is a child”, should fill the heart but his paean to family spirit is never as spry as it could be.

• At Theatre Royal Windsor until 19 October.