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 liked this play/production a lot. I don’t think I’d seen Alfred Molina before and was very taken with his acting. Colin Stinton was excellent too, as was Rebecca Pidgeon.
It’s a play about the movie business. As is often the case with Mamet plays about the world of work, Mamet captures the pressure-cooker atmosphere of the work place extremely well – an aspect that is often lacking in plays – perhaps because playwrights haven’t spent much of their lives in the actual hard-nosed world of work.
Theatricalia has an entry for this one – click here.
There are some #MeToo elements to this play that, obviously, weren’t perceived as #MeToo at the time because #MeToo hadn’t been invented – although movie business males belittling movie business females had been invented.
A midweek visit to the theatre with Bobbie. How on earth we ended up at the National for a major production on press night I have no idea – perhaps a couple of Bobbie’s journalist friends/colleagues had to divest themselves of a pair of tickets at short notice.
Midweek theatre was a habit we had acquired during my quieter months in late 1988 but this was not a sensible idea once my Binders career got going, as I might be deadline-ridden or out of town at the drop of a hat in my new career – so such mideweek jaunts became rare.
I don’t recall being quiet at work, though, so I must have been immersed in something or things that didn’t require meetings. I think I ran a tendering process or two, got involved with some proposal writing and helped out on a few projects staffed by people who didn’t really “get” accounting.
One thing I most certainly wasn’t doing was strutting around the office like a “paycock”. Which brings us back neatly to the matter at hand – a Wednesday evening visit to the National to see Juno and the Paycock with Bobbie.
It is hard to find any information on-line about the 1989 production, although some of the 2011 reviews hark back to the earlier production. But take my word for it that the 1989 production was good. I’m pretty sure it got good notices. Bobbie might remember yet more about it than I do. I’ll ask her.
David Hare plays have a tendency to irritate me, especially those plays that seem to come at moral and/or political issues with some preachy certainty – even if I agree with Hare’s position, which often I do.
I recall The Secret Rapture having enough moral dilemma and ambiguity about Thatcherism to keep the thought and concentration going throughout the play and for some time afterwards too.
They made a movie of this play a few years later…mostly different cast…
…I don’t really recognise the play I saw from this trailer at all:
In short, I remember thinking the play/production that we saw was very good. I went with Bobbie.
I’m not sure what we did afterwards; perhaps we ate out or perhaps I prepared some food for afterwards, as I was in the mode to do that in those early days at Clanricarde Gardens.
Saturday 3 December: Much sorting to do re flat – went to see Single Spies in eve – B came back to mine
My appointments diary informs me that my Zanussi washing machine was delivered to the flat that morning. I remember going for my first local shopping expedition after the machine arrived.
I am fairly sure that it was on that very first Saturday’s shopping spree that I found myself face-to-face with Van Morrison on the traffic island which divides the north from the south side of the Bayswater Road. We exchanged glances. I nodded, in as much of a “cool, nodding acquaintance” manner as I could muster.
I remember thinking that the Van encounter proved that I had really arrived in a hip, happening place – I was going to be rubbing shoulders with Van Morrison and people of that sort all the time from now on. Well, to some extent I suppose I have got to meet quite a lot of such media folk in the neighbourhood since, but that traffic island encounter with Van the Man was, sadly, a one-off. “No Van is an island”, I suppose.
Single Spies is actually two Alan Bennett plays: An Englishman Abroad and A Question Of Attribution. Both are about the Cambridge Spy Ring. The first of the two plays had been knocking around for a few years before this production – it is primarily about actress Coral Browne’s encounters with Guy Burgess. The second play was about Anthony Blunt’s role as art advisor to the Queen.
I thought the production (Single Spies, I mean, not Twelfth Night) was very good and said so in my notes. I’m pretty sure Bobbie liked the production too. I think we might have eaten at the National that evening – I can’t believe that I was geared up to cook yet at Clanricarde.
Sunday 4 December: Went to Pam & Michael’s in eve for dinner and bridge
I wonder who made the fourth for bridge that evening? It was before my irregular social group had emerged, so it wouldn’t have been Andrea on that occasion. I’ll guess it was a friend of Pam & Michael’s – perhaps one of the Setty/Gareh family or possibly it was Ralph Glasser. The diary is silent on such details – never mind.
I’ll have walked there and back, learning that Clanricarde Gardens to Pam & Michael’s place only takes around 15 minutes on foot. Cool.
Wow – this was a real experience in the theatre. Only a short piece – not even half an hour long – Bobbie and I will have both traipsed to the National after work, spending far more time traipsing than watching. But the memory of this piece lingers long in the memory.
I subsequently saw the piece again, in a double bill with Ashes To Ashes at the Royal Court, with Janie second time around. It is a very strong piece and no doubt can still shock and make the audience realise how bad regimes exert their power in part through the suppression and abuse of language.
What an honour to have seen the first production of this important, though short, piece of drama.
The diary is silent on what we did afterwards. For some reason, is think that we ate at the National that evening. It is quite a long play and I think the restaurant there was doing arrangements to eat part of your meal during and part after show at that time. But I could be mistaken.
Bobbie and I were on a bit of a roll, theatre-wise, at the start of that year, seeing some great productions. This was certainly one of them.
Lindsay Duncan was a most memorable Maggie The Cat and Ian Charleson was superb as Brick; tragically Charleson died just a couple of years after this production. The cast also included Eric Porter, Alison Steadman, Henry Goodman…plus many other fine performers. Howard Davies directed.
The Lyttelton is not my favourite place for this sort of play, but somehow this one seemed to work in that space. I seem to recall it received superb notices and for good reason.
Michael Billington loved this production – his review clipped below:
There’s little on-line about this particular production, given its antiquity, but if you have no idea even what the piece looks/feels like, here is a clip of Paul Newman and Elisabeth Taylor from the 1950’s film version:
…while the following clip is from a subsequent National theatre production of Cat:
https://youtu.be/GobBM0Tt0j4
Anyway, the Lindsay Duncan & Ian Charleson version will live long in my memory. Bobbie’s too, I’ll guess. I’d better ask her.
Billington on Bent Mon, Jan 22, 1990 – 38 · The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com
Coveney on Bent Sun, Jan 28, 1990 – 60 · The Observer (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com
