Writing this one up more than 30 years later, I am a bit confused about when I saw it and with whom, if indeed anyone else. I do know for sure that I saw this production at The Swan and was very taken with it.
I took a week off work just after Easter that year, visiting various friends about the place. I’ll write that up as best I can in due course. But in my appointments diary it clearly states “Troilus” 19 April.
Roll the clock forward to November, I saw Much Ado at the Royal Shakespeare Memorial with Moose. Tucked in with the Much Ado programme is the Troilus programme.
So did I simply pick up the programme in November having seen a preview of Troilus on my tod in April, or did I duck out in April and see this in the autumn with Moose? I think the former, but I’ll see if Moose can help me unpick this one.
Anyway, what a cast and what a fine production I recall. Ralph Fiennes was Troilus and I think it might have been a conversation with him at Lambton Place (my health club, latterly BWW) that encouraged me to see a preview of this production at Stratford.
Amanda Root played Cressida very well and David Troughton was a top notch Hector, Paterson Joseph a fine Patroclus. Wonderful supporting cast full of names that latterly became big. Sam Mendes was a bit of a Shakespeare novice back then.
I said in the log, which is almost to be expected with a cast as fine as this under Deborah Warner.
This was an evening at The National with Bobbie. I have subsequently seen a good “Good Person” at The Orange Tree with Janie too, but this Olivier production was especially fine in my view.
I have very limited recollection of this one, other than finding it shocking and hard to watch.
My diary is ludicrously light on detail and I got confused between this one and another production I failed to get a programme for. In this case, I think we saw a preview and the programmes weren’t ready.
I dined with (presumably) Bobbie at the Archduke before the theatre and we then went on to Jilly’s place, presumably for a birthday party. The diary suggests we had lunch on Sunday also.
Fortunately for the theatre element of the weekend, there are Theatricalia entries and reviews to help me out. Here is the former – click here.
Below is Michael Billington’s top notch review of this production:
I’ve no idea why I didn’t go and see this production with Bobbie Scully at some point during its nearly two-year on-off run. I have a funny feeling we had planned to go and then events intervened. Perhaps she saw it at that point while I was left in a state of shaughraun with regard to this play/production, until some client friends came along with a yearning to see some theatre.
I’m not sure whose idea it was to go and see this in early 1990. Perhaps someone asked me to suggest a production for an outing…or perhaps I tagged along with something they had already planned. I’m pretty sure that Stephen Lee, Rosemarie Whiteley and Suan Yap were part of that group, but my log is silent on the detail of who made up that “crowd”. I’d guess there must have been at least five or six of us to constitute a “crowd” in my log.
Anyway, I/we voted the production good. Fabulous cast, with Stephen Rea dominating the proceedings in the eponymous role. Lots for the superb supporting cast to do. Howard Davies directed it very well.
This was my last visit to the theatre in the 1980s.
I don’t remember much about it. Even when I wrote up my notes, while the memory must have been a bit fresher (more than 30 years have now passed; just a few years would have passed when I first logged this production).
Bobbie was with me that night, but I doubt if she remembers it much either.
…so A Life In The Theatre probably seemed comparatively tame Mamet. Indeed, the one thing I do recall about it was feeling that it was tame Mamet.
One reason I wanted to see this production was the presence of Samuel West in the cast. I knew young Sam from school. He had been polite enough to come with his parents to watch me in the school play, Twelfth Night. more than 10 years earlier…
…so I felt I ought to return the favour. After all, perhaps his nascent career could do with some assistance. As it has transpired, Sam’s subsequent, extremely successful “life in the theatre” did not need my help. I have seen him on stage a couple of times since.
Denholm Elliot was also a draw to this production.
Fortunately, despite my poor memory of the piece and production, there are well-crafted reviews to be had which confirm that it was a very good production.
Michael Billington gave young Sam a good review as “an admirable foil” for Denham Elliot’s character. Would Billington have praised my “conviction and self assurance” if he had seen Twelfth Night in 1978? Mercifully, we’ll never know. But I did get to know Michael Billington quite well over the years, through theatre and cricket.
It’s very clear from my log that I went to the theatre (or, as they say in the USA, theater) on the Sunday. Not something that can be done in London much – most theatres in London close on a Sunday. I think I went to a matinee or perhaps they just do the one late afternoon/early evening showing on a Sunday. I think this because I have a feeling that I met up with someone for dinner that evening as well; I think a second evening with Jane Lewis and I think it was the Louisiana-style restaurant in Alphabet City mentioned in Part One of my New York story…
…which rather begs the question, where and what did Jane and I eat on the first evening? Something mid-town and reasonably trendy at the time, I suspect.
But returning to the Lincoln Centre production…
…the theatrical production I chose was a good one. A double bill of short plays; one by Shel Silverstein, The Devil And Billy Markham, which was a musical monolgue performed by Dennis Locorriere of Dr Hook fame.
Locorriere was a superb performer. The Devil And Billy Markham had started life as a Shel Silverstein story in Playboy, which Silverstein adapted as a monolgue for this production.
Below is a video of Dennis Locorriere performing another Shel Silverstein piece, Carry Me, Carrie:
Below is a video of a subsequent performance of The Devil And Billy Markham by an unknown (to me) performer, doing it rather well, but not quite as captivating as Locorriere:
The conceit of this “sequel” play is that Bobby Gould has gone to hell and is being interrogated.
Gregory Mosher, the director of both pieces, is a doyen of both the Lincoln Center and David Mamet’s work, so I was certainly in the hands of the right chap for this visit.
Treat Williams, Steven Goldstein, Felicity Huffman and William H Macy were a very sound headlining cast for the Bobby Gould piece – the latter two it seems went on to become a celebrity couple some years after this production. Who knew?
Ironically, I learn that Felicity Huffman has recently (he says writing in the autumn of 2019) spent time in prison after admitting involvement in part of a college admissions bribery scandal this year, in respect of SAT scores for her and Macy’s daughter. A more Mamet-like, Speed The Plow-like true story I find hard to envisage.
But back in 1989, I remember very much liking both short plays and indeed enjoying the whole experience of seeing some theatre in New York.
I also liked living just a few blocks away from The Lincoln Center – W70th between Broadway and Columbus proved to be a decidedly suitable address for me, even if it was just for a week or so.
Here’s a review from the Central new Jersey Home News:
I remember this play, production and indeed the whole evening very well.
I had long been a fan of Poliakoff’s plays when I went to see this one, having read a great many of his plays and seen a few of the filmed versions of his works, but this was I think only the second time I’d got to see one of his plays on the stage.
My log says:
Very good. We sat next to Poliakoff himself and went on to Daniel [Scordel]’s party afterwards.
“We”, in this instance, was me and Annalisa de Mercur. The evening we attended was a preview – I think possibly even the first or one of the first previews.
I recall us getting to The Pit a little late and struggling to see any available pairs of seats once we got in. Annalisa made a bee-line for some empty seats that were clearly marked “reserved” with Stephen Poliakoff himself sitting next to those reservations.
“You can’t sit there”, I said to Annalisa, “they’re reserved”.
“It’s OK, you can sit there”, said Stephen Poliakoff.
“Are you sure it’s OK?” I said to him.
“Yes, they won’t all be needed”, he said.
“Are you something to do with the production?”, asked Annalisa, in the sort of questioning tone that only she might use in such circumstances.
“Stephen’s the playwright”, I said to her, “so I think he knows what he’s talking about”.
“Thank you”, I said to Stephen.
“That’s all right”, said Stephen. Then he said, “I wish they wouldn’t put my picture on the programme. I don’t like being recognised”.
“I’d have recognised you anyway”, I said.
Stephen Poliakoff half-smiled at me.
I really liked this play and the production. It is not Poliakoff’s finest, but it was a very interesting play, covering (as Poliakoff often does) societal issues and family issues in one fell swoop.
Superb cast, including my first live look at several truly excellent stage folk: Michael Pennington, Simon Russell Beale, Lesley Sharpe and Ralph Fiennes to name but four.
Annalisa was not as keen on this piece as I was. To be honest, she wasn’t very interested in theatre, but tended to come along to stuff I’d booked with Bobbie in mind if/when Bobbie wasn’t available.
I think it might have been during the interval of this one, in reference to a family row during the piece, that Annalisa commented, “I don’t much like this sort of drama – I can get all this at home.
It reminded me of one of my favourite Peter Cook quotes:
I go to the theatre to be entertained… I don’t want to see plays about rape, sodomy and drug addiction… I can get all that at home.
Playing With Trains did not have rape, sodomy or drug addiction as far as I recall. I do also remember suggesting that Annalisa keep her opinions to herself until we were clear of The Pit given that it was a preview night and it wasn’t the cast and crew’s fault that I had taken a guest who was not so keen on theatre.
We legged it across town to Daniel Scordel’s pad on Trinity Road, where the party was in full swing once we got there. I think Daniel was going out with Maz (Marianne Tudor Craig) by then, but I think that relationship was still quite new. I don’t remember much about the party other than it being rather a good one.
I do specifically remember Daniel’s kid sister, who was I think 17 or 18 at that time, grooving to a particular dance tune that I liked but did not recognise, so I asked her, after the record finished, what it was.
“You haven’t heard of it?” she said, “but it’s been in the charts for weeks. You’re sad”.
My log says that this was a transfer from The Other Place in Stratford and that I (possibly we – Bobbie was with me) was/were not 100% sure about it.
What was there not to be sure about? Splendid cast: Willard White as Othello, Ian McKellen as Iago, Imogen Stubbs as Desdemona, Zoe Wannamaker as Emilia…Trevor Nunn directing.
I also have a feeling that the 1989 RSC production felt a little over-theatrical to me. There is a certain Trevor Nunn style. Little did I know then that Janie and I would meet Trevor and Imogen – strangely around about the time we saw the 1997 RNT Othello.
My log says “little recollection” for this one, so I guess it didn’t make a big impression. Bobbie was with me.
Pirandello is one of those playwrights whose work I want to like more than actually do like. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say that I tend to enjoy reading his plays, because the ideas are fascinating, but many of them are difficult to produce in an entertaining way – at least to the eyes of the modern audience.
Man, Beast And Virtue is an early Pirandello, written in 1919 (100 years ago as I write in 2019), about two years before his breakthrough play, Six Characters In Search Of An Author.
de Jongh on Troilus Sat, Apr 28, 1990 – 21 · The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com
Coveney on Troilus Sun, Apr 29, 1990 – 54 · The Observer (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com
