Review of Cash on Delivery at The Mill at Sonning

The sun did come out briefly!

★★★½

There’s something rather comforting about a trip to The Mill at Sonning. Tucked beside the Thames in Sonning Eye, this former flour mill turned dinner theatre remains one of the few of its kind in the country. It’s family-run (now co-managed by Sally Hughes and her son, film producer Adam Rolston), fiercely proud of its history, and refreshingly unflashy about its successes — which include the 2023 UK Theatre Award for Gypsy and multiple accolades for being the most welcoming theatre in the UK. They’ve also been quietly improving their environmental footprint in recent years, from energy-efficient upgrades to more sustainable sourcing in the kitchen — small changes that feel entirely in keeping with the Mill’s thoughtful evolution.

And yes, before you ask — no, we didn’t see George Clooney. Again.

Now to the business at hand. The review of Cash on Delivery, written by Michael Cooney in 1994, arrived at Sonning from 5 February and runs until to 4 April, directed by Ron Aldridge. The name Cooney instantly sets expectations. You think of Ray Cooney and your mind leaps to expertly engineered chaos, escalating lies and perfectly timed doors. And you wouldn’t be wrong — Michael is very much his father’s son when it comes to construction.

But this isn’t a classic bedroom farce of misplaced trousers and wandering spouses. Instead, it’s a bureaucratic farce — one built on social security fraud and the domino effect of one very bad decision. Eric Swan (James Bradshaw) has been claiming benefits he’s not entitled to since losing his job, helped along by his well-meaning Uncle George. His long-suffering wife Linda remains blissfully unaware. When a government inspector calls unexpectedly, a single lie becomes an avalanche. Add a lodger, an undertaker, a counsellor, a psychiatrist, an officious case worker and — yes — a washing machine with a mind of its own, and the house of cards begins to wobble spectacularly.

Photo credit Carla Joy Evans

The plot mechanics are intricate and relentless. Identities are swapped at breakneck speed, explanations grow increasingly preposterous, and bodies (both literal and metaphorical) pile up. The audience around us roared — and rightly so — at several moments of pure comic choreography. Doors slam, hats are exchanged, and characters re-enter with entirely new personas. It’s tightly directed and energetically performed.

And yet… it feels older than 1994. The benefits system premise, the tone of the gags, even some of the character archetypes feel more 1970s than 1990s — almost as though the script had been tucked in a drawer since the heyday of televised farce. That’s not necessarily a criticism; farce often exists outside time. But the cultural references and attitudes occasionally land with a faintly dated thud rather than a crack.

Photo credit Carla Joy Evans

Among the chaos, Brenda (Felicity Duncan) emerges as the evening’s most sympathetic presence. There’s a warmth and groundedness to her that cuts through the hysteria. Yet neither her personality nor her styling quite convinces as an obvious match for Norman Bassett (Harry Gostelow). Costume Designer Natalie Titchener leans into heightened characterisation across the board, but Brenda’s look in particular makes their engagement feel more puzzling than inevitable. I also didn't understand the funeral director's heavy jewellery - he looked more like a magician than an undertaker.

Production-wise, the Mill does what it does best. Alex Marker’s set cleverly maximises the intimate stage, creating ample opportunity for entrances, exits and near misses. In this theatre, you are close enough to see every raised eyebrow and suppressed grin — which makes the precision of timing all the more vital. The cast (including Steven Pinder, Rachel Fielding, Natasha Gray, Melanie Gutteridge, Michael Shaw and Titus Rowe) throw themselves into the madness with admirable commitment.

A delicious pear frangipane tart

And the meal? One of the joys of Sonning is that your theatre ticket includes lunch or dinner, and the current offering continues to deliver tasty comforting fare. It's all very civilised.

So, does Cash on Delivery send you home clutching your sides? At moments, absolutely. It’s brisk, daft and impressively engineered. But its slightly dated flavour and relentless pitch mean it doesn’t quite soar into four-star territory for me.

Still, three and a half stars feels fair for an afternoon or evening that offers escapism, a hearty meal, and the particular charm that only The Mill at Sonning seems able to bottle.

Performances run until 4 April at The Mill at Sonning, Sonning Eye, Reading RG4 6TY.

For bookings and further information, visit www.millatsonning.com.