I think they got their timing wrong having press night on 17 December… a rare Cottesloe opening that missed out on Michael Billington or indeed anyone from the Guardian. But in my view it was the critics who missed out on a very good production.
That was my verdict in my log and that is my recollection of this production, which I saw with Bobbie.
I also saw the Donmar production in 2003 with Janie. I preferred the 1991 version. Perhaps it was the version or perhaps I had outgrown the play a bit by 2003. Both were excellent productions. I shall write up the Donmar production in the fullness of time.
Meanwhile, in 1991, Alan Cumming played the lead and won the Best Comedy performance Olivier award that year for his trouble. Cumming was involved in the adaptation for the version performed, along with Tim Supple who directed it..
That visit to the theatre was part of a highly active weekend, by the looks of it.
I test drove a Honda in the morning before the play – this was presumably to ascertain whether it would make sense for me to take the souped-up automatic Honda Civic (which subsequently became known as “Red Noddy”) from the Binder Hamlyn car pool, in exchange for my less impressive Renault stick-shift. The answer was yes.
On the Sunday I had lunch with Jilly Black (location lost in the mists of time) and went to Pam & Michael’s place in the evening – possibly for bridge or possibly just supper.
Bobbie & I were both very keen to see this one – hence our appearance on the first Saturday after press night, booking the tickets long before.
We weren’t disappointed. My log reads:
Superb. The setting was 1930’s style and they made a movie based on this production.
Below is a link to a National Theatre clip:
While below is a clip from the 1995 movie:
Janie would have got less out of this than Bobbie and I did – she is not so keen on Shakespeare, Sir Ian McKellen nor Dame Maggie. (The latter was not in the National Theatre stage production – Susan Engel played Queen Margaret.)
I rated this production very good and I remember it surprisingly well.
Howard Davies directed this one and gathered an excellent cast. Tom Wilkinson as John Proctor, Zoe Wanamaker as Elizabeth Proctor, Clare Holman as Abigail, plus a top notch RNT ensemble, as was the way at that time.
This production must have been very good, because it is quite a long play and I had “done my back” pretty dramatically the week before. Thus started a period when my back would tell me whether or not I was fully engaged in a theatrical production. For this one, I only recall the superb drama; I don’t recall the pain!
…but for sure I got back to London in time to see this preview at the Cottesloe.
Bobbie might say, “more’s the pity”, as my log notes that Bobbie absolutely hated it. I merely found it long and hard to follow. That’s how I remember it and that is exactly what I wrote in my log.
Super cast – Tilda Swinton is always very watchable but does often do weird stuff. Also Aidan Gillen, latterly very well known indeed. David Bamber was in it too – thirty years on I tend to watch his son, Ethan, bowling for Middlesex instead.
The play is described as a dramatic poem in the English language text and/but it was basically a family drama.
I wrote the above piece on 14 February 2019, basically because it had been on my mind after writing up Music At Oxford a few days earlier. By strange coincidence, Bobbie Scully turned up at the Gresham Society Dinner that evening, as Iain Sutherland’s guest.
I mentioned the coincidence. Bobbie started to quiver with indignation:
I’d forgotten the name of that darned thing, but it was surely the very worst thing I have ever seen at the theatre…I think we walked out at half time…
…she said. Actually I don’t think we did walk out at half time. I’m sure I would have recorded that fact in my log whereas instead I recorded that the play was long and impenetrable.
I think we stuck it out tho the bitter end…
…I said. I also volunteered to dig deeper into the programme to see if there were in fact two halves.
Yes, there were two halves and they added up to a whopping three hours of hurt for Bobbie.
I’m not sure why we did stick it out. Perhaps I was still wet enough behind the ears to imagine t hat such a piece might yield in the second half all the answers it withheld in the first. I know not to do that now. Perhaps I was so tired and hungover from the joys of Oxford the night before I was reluctant to move on yet.
More likely, we had booked a late night eatery and jointly thought we might as well see the thing through rather than kick our heels somewhere.
Anyway, the whole experience clearly had a profound effect on Bobbie who was shaking with the trauma of recalling that evening and remembered it so well she even said…
…I seem to recall it was only on for a short run…
…which indeed it was.
Nearly 30 years on, Bobbie might wish to read the short essay from the programme too. The least I can do, upload the material, after all I put poor Bobbie through with regard to this play/production.
Postscript Two: Bobbie Chimes In With A Recovered Memory
An e-mail from Bobbie 24 hours after our encounter at the Gresham Society:
I was casting my mind back to that dreadful so-called play (it wasn’t, it was a string of tedious monologues) and had a recollection of being there after the interval in a (suddenly) half empty theatre. So I reckon that, although we did not leave at half time, about half the audience did.
And, indeed, I think that is why we stayed. We came out at the interval, intending to leave, but had pre-booked interval drinks to consume. As we did so, we watched more than half the audience exit the building. I think we went back out of sympathy/solidarity/courtesy towards the cast.
Does this ring any bells with you? Did we really watch the second half because we felt sorry for the actors? Personally, I can think of no other reason …
My response to Bobbie’s considered recollection was as follows:
Yes, we were young and foolish back then. We might well have stayed on for compassionate reasons. There’d be no such snowflake nonsense from this quarter these days. I do recall the second half seeming to drag to an even greater extent than the first half. I also remember an incredible sense of relief when the ordeal ended.
Postscript Three: Here’s a professional view…I don’t think Nicholas de Jongh in the Guardian exactly liked it either:
Coveney On Blood Wedding Sun, Jan 5, 1992 – 41 · The Observer (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com
