I’ve long admired Noël Coward but alas, Hay Fever is the first play of his I’ve done on stage. What I love about it is that it is an incredibly witty, perspicacious satire on this eccentric, theatrical family, entertaining themselves at the expense of their guests, almost awful to watch at times.

But to me, the glory of the Bliss family is that they accept each other’s follies and idiosyncrasies with a great deal of charity. They have all these flaming rows, but the absolute bedrock of that family is loyalty and love, which is so apt and recognisable, and what prevents the play from feeling callous. I think that’s also true of Coward; his letters reveal an absolutely adorable person — I so wish I’d known him.

He had a great slough of despond before Hay Fever was resurrected at the National in that glorious production in 1964, with Edith Evans and Derek Jacobi. He’d begun to be regarded as rusty, old-fashioned. People still tend to think of him as fluffy, but what I hope comes across with our production is that he has infinitely more substance than that, and was an incredibly influential playwright.

I’m reading Coward’s diaries for his notes on how to play Judith Bliss. As an actress she was more Sarah Bernhardt than Maggie Smith, by which I mean completely over the top. My family is nothing like hers, but, though I can’t name names, I have known theatre families that are. Playing one will be an extreme pleasure.

Editor's choice

• The 100 Best Films of the Decade
• 70 facts you didn't know about Marvel
• The 50 Biggest Movies Of 2010