Janie and I remember being really impressed by Olympia Dukakis’s performance in this one woman play, while finding the play itself “a bit much”.
To be fair, we were a bit numb that weekend – we had attended Jenny Jamilly’s funeral the day before and were possibly not in the mood for high drama. Let alone uber-Jewish high drama, nach.
We saw a preview late May although the play didn’t receive its press night until some four weeks later.
The critics seem to have sided with us viz the performance and the play. Here’s Nicholas de Jongh in The Standard:
The log is unusually silent about this event. Especially unusual, as I was regularly recording my thoughts, even if just solo word, at that time.
I suspect this means that we didn’t think much of the piece/production but didn’t want to rubbish it.
Our diaries are also silent on what we did afterwards, other than a note in Janie’s diary to expect the show to end no earlier than 10pm. I suspect we picked up shawarmas on our way home.
This was a preview of a show Ken Campbell put on at The Piccadilly Thetre later that year.
I loved Ken Campbell’s work and I seem to recall a very funny monologue in one of his earlier one-man shows when he talked about his fascination with the New Hebrides (now Vanuatu) and vaguely posited the idea of performing MacBeth in pidgin.
In this piece, Campbell goes into far more detail about the language and his desire to establish pidgin as a world language, or Wol Wontok, which he believed could be achieved in just a few days as the language is so easy.
Here is Ken Campbell’s Guardian piece shown on the back of the programme note above, in proper clipping/readable form:
The first part of the prodcution was fascinating and funny, but, in truth, Janie and I found the delivery of MacBeth in pidgin less funny than the idea of it being done.
Never mind. An evening in the hands of Ken Campbell is never dull and I remember this evening more fondly than my log note suggests I would:
Not as much fun as we thought it might be – the idea is funnier than the delivery
Somewhat strangely, through work, soon after seeing this play, I met Patrick Ellum, who was a former Attorney General of Vanuatu. Through Patrick, I met one of that nation’s visiting Prime Ministers and his entourage. No, I didn’t try out my pidgin on them, although I did ask them about the deification of Prince Philip in Tanna. Hopefully I’ll Ogblog that event in the fullness of time.
But I digress.
“Prince Philip” in pidgin was, “nambawan bigfella emi blong Misis Kwin“, by the way.
I digress again, but no more.
Lyn Gardner in the Guardian gave Pidgin Macbeth a guarded thumps up, while signally failing to translate The Bard’s name into pidgin properly – it’s “Macbed Blong Wilum Sekspia“, dear, not Sekstia – typical Grauniad:
I have tended to find Sebastian Barry plays long and wordy, but this one worked for me and encouraged back to try more of his stuff. I suppose after four plus hours of “Iceman” the previous week, this 150 minute jobbie seemed like a short sketch.
The Theatricalia entry for this play/production can be found here. What a fine gathering of cast and creatives. Sinéad Cusack got most of the plaudits. The critics loved it.
In the summer of 1996 (or was it spring 1997?), we had spent a Sunday on the Thames, on Michael & Elisabeth’s Thames sailing barge, The Lady Daphne, along with, amongst others, Trevor Nunn & Imogen Stubbs. Trevor was busy reading an early Tennessee Williams script, Not About Nightingales, which had never been performed in the UK. Despite not being among Williams best work, Trevor suggested to us the play had a lot going for it. He was thinking of putting it on at the Royal National Theatre once he became Artistic Director there. I think his appointment had been announced but Trevor had not yet taken up the role when we met him.
Anyway, we were very keen to see the finished product once the production was announced and booked to see it at the start of its run.
The only critic who really matters here on Ogblog…me…wrote:
Powerful stuff – not a great play but very well executed.
I especially remember Finbar Lynch and Corin Redgrave putting in standout performances.
Charles Spencer in The Telegraph seemed to like it:
Don’t ask me how or why we had the stomach for this violent play but not for Shopping & F***ing the week before. Perhaps the violence seemed less gratuitous. Perhaps the way it was produced/directed.
Perhaps because we were demob happy – although we had cancelled our main spring holiday plans because of Phillie’s indisposition, we had decided to take a week off an go to Majorca for some much needed rest. We flew off early the next morning.
Similarly Suzannah Clapp in The Observer, whose review reminds me that the critics main reservation about this play is that they didn’t like it as much as they liked Elyot’s (also wonderful) My Night With Reg.
Again, this time with Janie, we saw a stellar cast and the work of a fine director (Sam Mendes rather than Trevor Nunn).
My log says:
Sadly, Janie hated it and I had pulled my neck, so we bowed out gracefully at half time. (Well, Janie bowed, I couldn’t bow of course).
My neck condition was doubtless not improved by Janie’s manifest disquiet and the length of the play. Perhaps I had overdone it the previous weekend at Andrea’s BBQ party on the Saturday and Kim & Micky’s evening do the next day.
Apologies to the fine cast who had to do without us for the second half of that evening; Simon Russell Beale, David Harewood & Claire Skinner leading the pack. Trevor Peacock, Colin Tierney, Indira Varma and others supporting well no doubt. It’s either me, or the play, or me & the play…it’s not you, loves. The Theatricalia entry gives you chapter and verse on the cast and crew.
There was a hoo-ha in the press that summer about whether or not Othello could or should be played by a white actor. Having seen Willard White in 1989 and David Harewood in 1997, I was not really party to the phenomenon that Othello is usually played by a white actor and that the play is increasingly rarely performed because some people are uncomfortable about skin colour with regard to that part.
Janie and I saw a preview long before the press night of this production – indeed before most of that press hoo-ha kicked off, which made the hoo-ha seem even more weird to us.
Anyway, Charles Spencer seemed very impressed with the production once press night came around:
I am happy to concede that the critics were right and/but this simply isn’t a play for Janie and probably (even though i am far more partial to Shakespeare than she) not for me either. A pain in the neck is how I remember it.
Rose de Jongh Standard 25 Jun 1999, Fri Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
Rose Billington Guardian 26 Jun 1999, Sat The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
Rose Spencer Telegraph 28 Jun 1999, Mon The Daily Telegraph (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
