Whose “bright” idea was it to book a play about dementia and stuff for a week after mother-in-law Pauline’s funeral – which was the closing scene of Pauline’s long, slow demise at the hands of that disease?
OK, so it was my idea. But, to be fair, the idea of seeing this piece had been brewing in my mind for some time, given that Lydia White was appearing in it.
After all, Lydia is my best mate John’s daughter and has been helping me to grapple with the shreds of my so-called singing voice for some five years now. Still, I had told John early in the year that I thought that the subject matter would be too close to the bone for Janie at this time and that the journey to the Arcola too far for my healing bones in May, just three months after my hip replacement.
Between February and April, though, the hip replacement went well and Ben Schwartz had coincidentally arranged to see this very show in Leicester – one of several stops on a tour scheduled to finish at The Arcola in London. When Ben reported back to me in April that the play, and Lydia, were the bees knees – (expressed with well-chosen, professional words to that effect) – I decided to book the show. I suggested to Janie that I’d go it alone on the Saturday matinee, while she was having her hair done. But so impressed was Janie with Ben’s informal review, she decided to move her hair appointment and join me.
That was on 16 April – about 12 hours before Pauline expired.
Still, coincidence followed coincidence when I told John that we’d be going along after all, as he reported back that he and Mandy would be at that matinee with several friends.
“But what about the play and production?”, I hear frustrated readers cry.
Matthew Seager plays the male lead, as he has in previous productions of his play. He and Lydia certainly make this piece fly. [Insert your own joke here about the production flying to the moon or being a play among the stars].
Strewn with Frank Sinatra songs, it is the sort of play that could easily come across as mawkish or cloying, yet Seager somehow manages to avoid those pitfalls, while retaining warmth, humour and empathy. The fact that he spent a considerable amount of time working in care homes before writing this play might well have helped in that regard…as does an evident talent for playwriting of course.
Both performers did a great job of transforming their body language in a near instant, as the scenes move backwards and then forwards again in time. Matthew’s physical changes were the most profound ones, yet Lydia’s subtle transformations from lovestruck young woman to worn-down, middle-aged accidental-carer were in some ways even more impressive for their subtlety.
But then, I’m biased. After all, Lydia has almost managed to make an audible silk purse out of the sow’s ear that is my voice.
There is a scene during In Other Words in which Matthew’s character explains how bad he is at singing and demonstrates same with a bit of Sinatra. I asked Matthew after the show if Lydia had taught him how to feign singing that badly. Matthew’s reply:
“I didn’t need lessons – I really do sing badly”.
That answer was clear.
