We were in need of distraction at that time and this was a light, yet thoughtful piece, in which the audience gets to participate in a game show…or is it the financial system?
We’re really keen on Simon Stephens work and had high hopes for this play – high hopes that were indeed met.
The play is basically about Simon Stephen’s home town – Stockport.
This was a revival of one of Simon Stephen’s early works – we didn’t realise that when we booked it, bit never mind.
Years later, when Janie and I went to Southport, I had terrible trouble convincing Janie that they are very different places in the North-West with vaguely similar names.
Unfamiliar names in the cast but all did a cracking job. Superb design too. Marianne Elliott is such a good director.
We missed it when it was first performed downstairs; not sure why as the subject matter will have appealed. Perhaps it coincided with one of our holidays and/or a heavily booked period.
Anyway, the Hampstead knew a hit when it saw one and transferred the piece upstairs (and subsequently beyond).
Again an upper-middle class drawing room drama – even less promising than the second.
We were at a preview. There was Polly, socialising with her friends and relations, who were there to make sure that the preview was well received by the audience…
…it all seemed aa shame and a waste of talent to us. Perhaps Polly was honing her skills for a TV writing career that will be far more lucrative than the stage…and perhaps to that end she is succeeding.
Indifference summed it up for us too. It was entertaining, there were good lines and vignettes in it. If this had been a young writer’s first play we would have oozed about a promising writer. But this piece was a waste of Polly Stenham’s talent and the talent on show with cast and crew too.
I have a copy of the play if anyone wants to seek enlightenment from reading that, let me know. I challenge you.
Tucked into my copy of the play is a short script for something else – I think it is a sample from one of Simon David’s pieces – quite impenetrable without context – clearly it was that sort of night.
Naturally this was a good excuse to encourage people to dress up for dinner…
…as if the Z/Yen crowd in those days needed much excuse to dress up.
The Cinnamon Club, in the old Westminster Library, was an excellent venue. We had the whole of the upstairs mezzanine for our dinner.
I wrote a song that year specifically for the event. Rather a good one, though I say so myself, despite (or perhaps because of) the Christmas cracker joke in the first verse.
Well acted, directed and produced – of course. But a rather predictable, tame piece. Maureen Lipman and Tracy-Ann Oberman for sure could handle something more challenging – probably all the cast could have done – we certainly would have preferred more challenge.
It wasn’t our habit to take a short break this close to Christmas, so we must have been feeling a real need to get away from it all that autumn. We chose Egypt for that time of year, arranging a few days of cultural tourism in Cairo and then a week of R&R in Sahl Hasheesh, near Hurghada. What could possibly go wrong?
As our diplomatic guide explained it to us on arrival; “our president has said one or two things that have not gone down too well with some sections of our society. There might be some protests about this over the next few days.”
Occupancy was already down at the Mena House, where they took so kindly to our perseverance that we were upgraded to the Gustav V Adolf Suite on arrival.
Anyway, we enjoyed the benefits of the pyramids of Giza and the Egyptian Museum with very few other tourists to interrupt our enjoyment, which made us feel big.
Occupancy in Sahi Hasheesh was, if anything, worse (from the resort’s point of view), although at least the atmosphere was less nervous.
Audley provided same in a jolly nice ring binder. My hand-written notes, barely decipherable and therefore perfectly safe in the public domain, are here:
