There were enough doors for one of those speedy farces. Alas, it was not to be. The first half of the first half, quite frankly, felt like standing in line at the Post Office behind a long queue of other customers. You would be surprised how long the queues are, even in this day and age, with supposedly declining use of Post Office services – your reviewer’s recent bitter experience saw others use it for passport renewals, foreign exchange services, and to send off their Vinted parcels. Anyway, the show is set in 1996 in East London – the slow start might have been forgiven if it were written and had premiered in 1796 – and the manner in which proceedings were conducted only proved how much the world has changed in thirty years.
When Mr Jenkins (Harry Gostelow), an inspector from the Department of Social Security (dissolved in 2001 and succeeded by the Department for Work and Pensions) visits Eric Swan (Steven Pinder) to investigate the sheer number of benefit claims being paid to Swan’s address, there’s much fun to be had in watching a rather unpredictable and increasingly unlikely pack of lies unfold. There is, mind you, an attempt by Swan to contact the DSS over the phone in order to clarify some matters: he gets passed from pillar to post in a way that is still identifiable now.
Swan lost his job, y’see, and after that, a social security cheque arrived for a former tenant – welfare cheques were largely phased out in 2012 – which Swan deposited for himself. The exact mechanics of depositing a cheque with someone else’s name on it were not explained in the play, unless I missed it. I mention this not to nit-pick but rather to highlight that the script was otherwise meticulously detailed in its deceptions and double entendres.
It is hammy with a capital H, and there were a few too many times when one character or another was so righteously indignant about what someone else had just said that they felt it necessary to repeat it. A ruthless cut of all of those echoes would have sliced a good five minutes off the running time. A mixture of wordplay and physical comedy ensures the play, and this production of it, has a broad appeal. There is one notable exception. Patrons too young to recall how rotary phones work might find some of the punchlines impenetrable – I couldn’t help feeling one had to have some background knowledge of living in Britain in the 1990s to fully appreciate every joke.
A reviewer from a different publication confided that they were told they could not review ‘the food’, only the show. As I have no such restriction, and the venue, one of the only ‘dinner theatres’ in the country, welcomes feedback on it, I happily report the portions were larger than they were on previous visits and the table service was nothing short of superb. Business as usual all round at The Mill at Sonning, with some laugh-out-loud humour for those who can tolerate or even revel in all the silliness. And it is very silly. Sir Patrick Moore used to pronounce ‘Uranus’ as ‘Yoo-rah-nuss’ when presenting the BBC’s The Sky at Night. This show goes for a rather different pronunciation. It’s a lot of fun at the end of the day, and a sufficiently pleasant couple of hours of escapism.
Review by Chris Omaweng
Michael Cooney’s Cash on Delivery is a fast-paced, whirlwind of a play that has all the ingredients for rib-tickling hilarity. Eric Swan (aided by his Uncle George and unbeknown to his wife, Linda) has pocketed thousands of pounds through fraudulent DSS claims. When Norman Bassett (the lodger) opens the door to Mr Jenkins, the DSS Inspector, deceptive mayhem follows — as do the undertaker, bereavement counsellor, psychiatrist, Norman’s fiancé, a corpse, the ominous Ms Cowper and a rather rebellious washing machine!
Chaos erupts as mistaken identities, frantic cover-ups, and rapid-fire misunderstandings spiral out of control. With doors slamming, secrets spilling, and an endless parade of outrageous characters, no one is safe from the madness.
Filled with Cooney’s trademark witty dialogue, lightning timing, and an avalanche of comic twists, Cash on Delivery promises a night of unrelenting fun and pure theatrical escapism. You will be holding your sides for dear life!
CAST
Eric Swan – Steven Pinder
Linda Swan – Natasha Gray
Norman Bassett – James Bradshaw
Mr Jenkins – Harry Gostelow
Uncle George – Michael Shaw
Sally Chessngton – Rachel Fielding
Doctor Chapman – Oscar Cleaver
Mr Forbright – Titus Rowe
Ms Cowper – Felicity Duncan
Miss Dixon – Melanie Gutteridge
CREATIVES
Writer – Michael Cooney
Director – Ron Aldridge
Set Designer – Alex Marker
Costume and Hair Designer – Natalie Titchener
Lighting Design – Graham Weymouth
Sound Design – Henry Horn
CASH ON DELIVERY
The Mill at Sonning
5 February to 4 April 2026
