The Ben Daniels character, the father, is basically being sucked in by a cult. On reflection at the time of writing (January 2018) it has a fair bit in common with My Mum’s A Twat – click here, which we saw recently, except the cult-ista in the more recent case is the mum and the storyteller is the affected child later in life.
This was a really entertaining and thought-provoking play by the very promising playwright Penelope Skinner. I think this was our first sight of one of hers; Linda at the Royal Court a few years later – click here or below – confirmed our suspicions that she is a special talent.
The Village Bike had a very fine cast for an upstairs production, not least Dominic Rowan and Romola Garai, both excellent. Indeed the whole cast was excellent, as was the set, directing, the lot.
I recall this one as being a bit Alan Aykbournish – a gang of thirty-somethings on retreat in the country for New Years eve. What could possibly go wrong?
But Janie hadn’t seen it before and Clare Higgins is a cracking good actress.
Also, in the post crash times that were late 2008/early 2009 when we booked to see this production, I thought the piece might have a different, meaningful resonance.
In many ways it did.
Yet it wasn’t quite the same thing as seeing Wallace Shawn perform it himself. How could it be?
Both of us had really busy weeks in the run up to this Friday night at the theatre, with Janie taking patients early and late that week. In my case, as well as many client meetings, a very late night for me the previous evening due to the traditional Children’s Society v Z/Yen cricket match in Regents Park:
I had seen Mountain Language before – a most memorable production in 1988 with Michael Gambon, Eileen Atkins, Tony Haygarth and Miranda Richardson, directed by Harold himself..
Returning to 2001, our friend Michael Billington reviewed Alive From Palestine, but not the triple bill, giving me the sense that the piece might have had a greater effect on us had it not been preceded by the two Pinter pieces.
To be fair, she reviewed the Pinter double bill ahead of the short late night run of the third play started. And at least The Standard had the good manners to trail the Alive From Palestine one:
…so thoroughly expected to enjoy Kevin Elyot’s next play, Mouth To Mouth, which indeed we did. Not quite to the same extent as The Day I Stood Still – Mouth to Mouth was quite dark – but still we liked it a lot. Fine acting and thought provoking writing.
Here is the Theatricalia entry. Michael Maloney, Lindsay Duncan, Adam Godley, Peter Wight, Andrew McKay, Lucy Whybrow and Barnaby Kay, directed by Ian Rickson. What’s not to like?
Janie’s diary reminds me that we had dinner the night before with Jamil and Suad Amyuni at Home House, which was also a very memorable evening in its own way.
Janie’s diary also notes, beside Far Away
1/2 hour.
It was short, but not quite that short. I know we saw a preview, but I trust my memory and the reviews that, even the preview, ran to more than 45 minutes, but probably less than an hour.
Fabulous cast – not only Linda Bassett but also Kevin McKidd and Katherine Tozer, directed by Stephen Daldry. I only realise now what a hot ticket this must have been and how privileged we are/were, as Royal Court members, to grab hot tickets like this before they all got grabbed.
Predictably, Charles Spencer didn’t think much of it – he didn’t tend to get Caryl Churchill:
Even giving the casting vote to our friend Michael Billington doesn’t really help, as Billy-o gives the production four stars but his review is somewhat equivocal.
Strangely, the productions that tend to float our boats the most tend to split the reviewer jury. I guess Janie and I like controversial stuff. And as the now late (25 years on) Jamil Amyuni once famously put it in a different context:
We saw a preview of this play/production. My log note:
very good indeed.
What else could there possibly be to say?
Steven Mackintosh, Tom Wilkinson and Julia Ormond were the superb cast. I think David Hare directed it himself…the formal reviews will probably cover that point. Let’s tale a look at those.
Janie and I were very taken with this creepy three-hander at the Royal Court. I remember us agreeing that it was Pinteresque at the time – without the influence of reviews I hasten to add.
I think this was our first sighting of a Martin Crimp play and for sure we were intrigued enough to seek out his work several times subsequently.
Owen Teale, Juliet Stevenson and Indira Varma, directed by Katie Mitchell. All people who had impressed us before and/or since.
My friend Michael Billington in the Guardian shared our fascination with this piece and also saw the Pinter parallels:
