“In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant. Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant.”

Harvey is a 1944 comedy by the American playwright Mary Chase, written to cheer people up during the war and not long before the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. In retrospect, it’s hard to credit that the play was awarded the 1945 Pulitzer Prize for Drama ahead of Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie, although he did go on to win with both A Streetcar Named Desire and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof…

Chase was reputedly paid $1m for the rights to a 1950 film starring James Stewart as the central character Elwood P. Dowd – a role he had already played during the play’s long run on Broadway. There have been numerous other revivals, film and TV versions, and even a stage musical Say Hello to Harvey. In 2009 it was reported that Steven Spielberg had optioned the play for a new film version, but that ultimately he was unable to find an actor willing and able to play Dowd.

In the play, Dowd insists on including his friend Harvey in all of his sister Veta’s social gatherings. The trouble is, Harvey is an imaginary six-and-a-half-foot-tall rabbit. After Veta tries to commit him to a sanatorium, a comedy of errors begins as the asylum turns out to be a mad house and, as the misunderstandings pile up, it becomes apparent that sanity may not be quite the prize it appears.

Whilst not the most profound piece, handled with care this winsome comedy, depicting a lovable eccentric, has the potential to charm audiences, casting a satisfying spell. Harvey is a well-crafted, cute play with a terrific leading role, an invisible supporting character and a good deal of psychological dimension.

In terms of production, this must move back and forth between the library of the Dowd family mansion and the reception room of the sanatorium, Chumley’s Rest, which needs many doors to facilitate and maximise the farcical elements of people quickly exiting and entering. All the production elements must help to establish the Dowd family’s need to be portrayed as moneyed, as in their snobbish eyes their social standing makes Elwood’s condition even harder to bear, and that’s where most of the humour comes from. The library is scripted as a “room lined with books and set with heavy old-fashioned furniture of a faded grandeur” and, as the play progresses, we learn that this is Elwood and Veta’s late mother’s house and that during Act One Scene One, 75 guests are present at the house for a recital, so it should be depicted as of some scale and opulence.

Rosemary Bianchi’s staging solution to this was very effective on your small stage, the wood panelling of the library became the office with the removable fireplace section upstage and a movable bookcase, both of which revealed the additional doors required. There was also a change from a chandelier to a more functional office light. The transition took a reasonable amount of time, but it was not over-long and, as I was there early in the week, I wondered if maybe it would get faster throughout the run.

The set dressing and props by Gerry Gritzman and Beverley Triber were all appropriate to the piece and included period medical props. I did wonder if there could have been a few more books on the bookcase for the library but I thought the picture of old ma Dowd was perfect. Keeping the transitions simple was aided by altering the dressing on the chairs and on the table rather than replacing them and the dressing in the office location was very convincing.

Lighting by Nick Mogg supported the production well. There was a more subtle light in the house, and then a brighter light for the farcical elements in the office. There were also some more ethereal light effects which were fitting given the mysterious and supernatural nature of Harvey. In general, there were some nice fades, for example one at the end of Act One which highlighted the magical book: I did think the fade on Elwood when he’s quoting from Pride and Prejudice could have been a touch longer.

Sound by James Rowles was generally appropriate too. The music was all fitting and all the practical effects worked well: sound from an intercom and ringing period phones in both locations. From where I was sitting, the Act One noise to establish that there was a well-attended recital in the next room could have been a bit louder particularly initially as the doors open and then faded down.

Wardrobe by Joe Hogan delivered the requirements of sequins and diamante for the Dowd family and their friendship group along with Myrtle’s colourful dress for Act One. There were also period medical outfits and more sombre suits for the grandees. There was some good thought here – for example I loved Dr Lyman Sanderson’s co-respondent shoes giving us a hint from his first entrance that he might be a bit of a ‘player’.

The play requires a reasonably large cast, but the only character to appear in all scenes is Elwood, so the actor playing him must drive the production. Jon Brown was excellent in this central role and was loveable, sweet and heartbreaking as the man who understands that it’s wiser to be kind than smart. As an audience, we need to feel that Elwood means every word he says, and he never says an unkind word. And that at all times he sees Harvey. All these things were achieved in a confident and engaging performance, delivered with a deftness of touch.

Hazel Halliday played Veta Louise Simmons, Elwood’s dithery social-climbing sister with a lovely world-weary characterisation, so then, when she admits that she herself has occasionally caught a glimpse of Harvey, the confusion that follows – she is mistaken for the patient, and Elwood is sent on his merry way – seems entirely plausible. There was also a nice contrast in her performance when she returns from her treatment at the hand of the doctors.

Sarah Gennoe gave a confident performance as Myrtle Mae Simmons, the grasping niece who’s looking for a husband.

In the sanatorium scenes, Dr Lyman Sanderson was played by Graham Miller with great physicality and manic pace which helped to drive these scenes. Kathryn Taylor was an effective nurse, Ruth Kelly, who has her heart set on the doctor: this actress has a wonderful voice. Godfrey Marriott was excellent as Dr William Chumley: he perfectly offered the gravitas of the eminent but stuffy psychiatrist who returns from an afternoon in the company of Elwood and Harvey, panicked to discover that his certainties stand for nothing. This was a really good performance and, aided by Dan Badger as Duane Wilson, the sadistic orderly, these characters all worked well together to create the situation in which the Dowd family unwillingly find themselves.

Keith Macdougall was convincing as the family lawyer, Judge Omar Gaffney, who’s called in by Veta to support Elwood’s confinement. Frances Farrugia had two nice small appearances: as Elwood’s doting aunt Ethel Chauvenet and also as Chumley’s wife, Betty.

Neil Harrison had a great cameo as the deus ex machina cabby who changes Veta’s mind that Elwood should be given an injection that will make him into a ‘perfectly normal ’uman being – and you know what bastards they are!’, making her realise that she would rather have Elwood just as he is – carefree and kind – even if it means they all have to live with Harvey.

Direction by Belinda Gee overall was handled very well. The pace in the second half was much better but that’s probably down to the structure of the play rather than this production. Groupings and movement were largely very good, especially making the most of the opportunity for farcical elements: on just a couple of occasions, actors struggled to naturally find a place as they entered. Another challenge you had to deal with, especially in the second half was having a large number of characters on stage, many of whom had nothing to do for long periods, but then need to interject. In general, this was achieved, although maybe just once too often someone needed to physically pull someone away from another character to get to speak to them. Maybe there could have been another option to achieve this some of the time: for example, moving characters into space ahead of the interjection. That said, overall, this was an extremely enjoyable and amiable couple of hours, and although the play may be seen as less white rabbits than a worn-out old war horse, the director and her cast got the most out of it.

I can report that I didn’t see any big white rabbits on my way home from the Barn theatre…