The Double Dealer by William Congreve, Olivier Theatre, 12 October 1978

What a memorable day and special event; a group of us from Alleyn’s School saw The Double Dealer at the Olivier Theatre, having earlier been given a backstage tour of the National and a few weeks before before that been given the opportunity to “workshop” some of the scenes from The Double Dealer with National Theatre understudies and assistant directors.

Yet, so many years on, I struggled to remember much detail about the day of the theatre visit itself. My diary is not much help:

Thursday: Went to Curtain Theatre – Hillel House – Olivier Theatre. Great day.

So there you have it. Great day. What else would I need to write down? After all, it was such a memorable day I would remember every intricate detail – right? Wrong.

I am writing this Ogblog piece on 12 December 2018, the morning before I shall see The Double Dealer again, for the first time in over 40 years. I might recover some more memories of this 1978 day while watching at the Orange Tree Theatre, but I doubt it. 

So I decided to “shout out” to my old school mates yesterday, hoping that some would chip in with memories of their own. That proved to be a good shout. Here’s Simon Ryan – who in fact shared lots of memories of our Lower 6th drama course – several of which will pop up in other Ogblog pieces in the fullness of time:

The trip to the National Theatre was a Thursday afternoon matinee at the National Theatre’s Olivier Theatre. Dorothy Tutin had a lead role. The supporting actors from the afternoon’s main show, included Gawn Grainger and Glyn Grain (Duncan Foord and I laughed at them rather than with them, I remember).

It was most definitely part of the Drama AO level course run by Mike Lempriere.

Can’t remember the details about other schools attending.

I remember Dan O’Neill knew the guy who gave us the backstage tour and relayed to us that he needed us to give him a favourable review to help him out. (Dan O’Neill’s elder brother, Hugh and the guy who ran the Bear Pit whose name eludes me, (Stephen Fry? ) but who looked rather like a Restoration fop with long curly black hair, both worked at the NT which is why he had an inside track.

I thought that Simon meant John Fry (not Stephen). John was the Journeyman in the Bear Pit’s production Andorra with us earlier that yearand no doubt went on to further Bear Pit glories later. I didn’t recall the foppish hair…probably because Simon was thinking of Tom Fry. Robert Kelly recalls:

The Bear Pit guy was Tom Fry (not Stephen Fry) and he had a younger brother John… Tom Fry was just as you describe, I thought he was the coolest thing I had ever seen when I first saw him. In fact he may still be…

It is interesting that Simon particularly remembers Dorothy Tutin‘s role. I did remember that, but I particularly remember the production for Ralph Richardson, not least because my parents went on and on about it being such an honour for me to see Ralph Richardson perform on the stage, albeit in his dotage.

Coincidentally, I have recently come across Ralph Richardson in a different context; on of the tennis professionals at Lord’s pointed out to me the similarity between my real tennis bag and that of Sir Ralph’s as exhibited in the main reception at Lord’s: 

Sir Ralph’s kit. The legend with the exhibit reads, “…Although not a very gifted player, Sir Ralph was a devotee of real tennis…”
My kit. Mercifully, no legend provided with my exhibit. 

But I digress. My point really is…what a cast! I mean, yes I know I am about to shout, WHAT A CAST!

The Theatricalia entry, with cast and crew for this production of The Double Dealer, can be found here.

Here are just some of the names (beyond Dorothy Tutin and Ralph Richardson) from the cast list who, in my view, either were or went on to be stars of stage and screen:

  • Nicky Henson
  • Dermot Crowley
  • Judi Bowker
  • Brenda Blethyn
  • Sara Kestelman
  • Robert Stephens
  • Michael Bryant
  • Janet Whiteside

Naturally, I am unable to assess how good a production or collection of performances that really was – it was the first time I had seen a major production of anything. I was completely star struck and stage struck by the whole experience. I thought it was simply the most amazing thing I had ever seen on the stage. Frankly, at that time, it unquestionably was. I guess I would be still be thrilled by that production if I could see it now.

Here’s Jerry Moore, talking about the Drama course generally as well as his memory of that particular outing:

It was an enjoyable course and really developed my enthusiasm for the theatre. Mike [Lempriere] was an excellent teacher but I remember he didn’t like Dorothy Tutin.

Funnily enough, I remember being disappointed with Dorothy Tutin too – but perhaps I was simply absorbing what my drama teacher had said and reflecting it as my own opinion. Anyway, what did we know? Dorothy Tutin picked up an Olivier Award that year for that performance.

The other thing I have done, prior to seeing the play again in December 2018, is actually read the whole play, for the first time.

What a simple, singular, linear plot. Just hints of subplot – Lady Pliant’s intrigues (although they are all connected to the main plot) and the parenthetic dalliance between Brisk and Lady Froth – with which I had so much fun a few weeks earlier at the rehearsal rooms. But oh so simple a storyline for a play of that period.

Congrieve recognises the simplicity in his (typically late 17th Century style) self-effacing dedication. To be fair, he was only 24 when he wrote this play and I think I can see signs of greater things to come.

Here is a link to the full text of the play from Project Gutenberg – free and available to all.

The music in the 1978 production was a new score by Harrison Birtwistle. I cannot find a source for that, but here is the overture from original score, by Henry Purcell:

I’d love to hear more memories and recollections, either from people who were part of our school party or indeed anyone else who remembers this production.

To echo Jerry Moore’s words, this was one of the main events that forged my lifelong enthusiasm for and love of the theatre. I realise that I was incredibly privileged to be allowed this experience and shall always be grateful for it.

Working With National Theatre Cast And Crew “Workshopping” Extracts From The Double Dealer, Curtain Theatre, 22 September 1978

A simply wonderful experience through the school, spread over two dates. In October we had a backstage tour at the National Theatre and then saw a matinee of The Double Dealer at the Olivier Theatre.

But firstly, on this September day, several of us visited the Curtain Theatre, a place the National Theatre must have been using as rehearsal space at that time, where we had the opportunity to work with understudies and assistant directors, “workshopping” some scenes from The Double Dealer.

Friday: Went to Curtain theatre (acted through restoration) Fantastic time there

That’s all the kid wrote, folks. And so far (writing more than 40 years later, 12 December 2018), my shout out to my fellow pupils has drawn a blank on this element of the experience, but has confirmed that this experience was part of a Drama AO level course several of us were taking with Michael (Mike) Lempriere.

I have a strong recollection of girls from another school (I think Mary Datchelor? or was it St Martins Girls?) being involved on that initial workshop day. The actors/understudies, who were getting us to workshop bits of the play, were trying to get us (and to some extent succeeding in getting us) flirting in a Restoration style, mostly by telling the boys that the girls really did fancy them and vice versa. 

I was allocated the part of Brisk in a fairly short scene (a minor subplot in an otherwise fairly linear play) in which Brisk reveals his (formerly only faintly disguised) passion towards Lady Froth and finds that the physical attraction is reciprocated.

I shall attempt to replicate below the dialogue between a 16-year-old me (at that time only fairly recently acquainted with the physical pleasures of tonsil-hockey and fumbling with girls in the real world) and the actor who was helping me with my costume and preparing me / egging me on, before I tried out the scene with the mystery girl from another school.

ACTOR: Have you noticed the way she’s been looking at you all morning?

ME: No?

ACTOR: I think she must really fancy you.

ME: I don’t think so?

ACTOR: Oh yes, I really do think so. Anyway, she’s a lovely looking girl.

ME: Do you think so?

ACTOR: Oh yes, a buxom wench with a touch of the gypsy about her if I’m not at all mistaken. You should have some fun acting out this scene with her…

I mean, honestly, if the political correctness and #MeToo movements got hold of this stuff, all the institutions and individuals involved would have a lot of explaining to do.

Here is the scene I acted out with the mystery school girl, who was doubtless being egged on by her actress/dresser as much as I was. The extract below is extracted from and linked to the Project Gutenberg version of the play; a project which I commend to anyone who wants to retrieve and read out of copyright texts for free:

SCENE VI.
[
To him] Lady Froth.
BRISK [
Singswalking about.]  ‘I’m sick with love,’ ha, ha, ha, ‘prithee, come cure me.  I’m sick with,’ etc.  O ye powers!  O my Lady Froth, my Lady Froth, my Lady Froth!  Heigho!  Break heart; gods, I thank you.  [Stands musing with his arms across.]
LADY FROTH.  O heavens, Mr. Brisk!  What’s the matter?
BRISK.  My Lady Froth!  Your ladyship’s most humble servant.  The matter, madam?  Nothing, madam, nothing at all, egad.  I was fallen into the most agreeable amusement in the whole province of contemplation: that’s all—(I’ll seem to conceal my passion, and that will look like respect.)  [
Aside.]
LADY FROTH.  Bless me, why did you call out upon me so loud?
BRISK.  O Lord, I, madam!  I beseech your ladyship—when?
LADY FROTH.  Just now as I came in, bless me, why, don’t you know it?
BRISK.  Not I, let me perish.  But did I?  Strange!  I confess your ladyship was in my thoughts; and I was in a sort of dream that did in a manner represent a very pleasing object to my imagination, but—but did I indeed?—To see how love and murder will out.  But did I really name my Lady Froth?
LADY FROTH.  Three times aloud, as I love letters.  But did you talk of love?  O Parnassus!  Who would have thought Mr. Brisk could have been in love, ha, ha, ha.  O heavens, I thought you could have no mistress but the Nine Muses.
BRISK.  No more I have, egad, for I adore ’em all in your ladyship.  Let me perish, I don’t know whether to be splenetic, or airy upon’t; the deuce take me if I can tell whether I am glad or sorry that your ladyship has made the discovery.
LADY FROTH.  O be merry by all means.  Prince Volscius in love!  Ha, ha, ha.
BRISK.  O barbarous, to turn me into ridicule!  Yet, ha, ha, ha.  The deuce take me, I can’t help laughing myself, ha, ha, ha; yet by heavens, I have a violent passion for your ladyship, seriously.
LADY FROTH.  Seriously?  Ha, ha, ha.
BRISK.  Seriously, ha, ha, ha.  Gad I have, for all I laugh.
LADY FROTH.  Ha, ha, ha!  What d’ye think I laugh at?  Ha, ha, ha.
BRISK.  Me, egad, ha, ha.
LADY FROTH.  No, the deuce take me if I don’t laugh at myself; for hang me if I have not a violent passion for Mr. Brisk, ha, ha, ha.
BRISK.  Seriously?
LADY FROTH.  Seriously, ha, ha, ha.
BRISK.  That’s well enough; let me perish, ha, ha, ha.  O miraculous; what a happy discovery.  Ah my dear charming Lady Froth!
LADY FROTH.  Oh my adored Mr. Brisk!  [
Embrace.]

It was fun and I recall rather well what the good-looking girl looked like. I also recall that she and I had a friendly conversation afterwards, got on quite well, but I think we both realised that the play was the thing and we didn’t actually fancy each other. Predictably hilarious results averted, no thanks to the mischievous National Theatre team.

In my case, it was probably as much a useful lesson for my next real world teenage wooing experience (which was becoming a more regular feature of my leisure time by that time) as it was a lesson in how to act.

Sadly, I cannot find any information online regarding the “modern” Curtain Theatre – i.e. the place that the National was using as rehearsal space in the late 1970s. Nothing to do with the Tudor/Jacobean period Curtain Theatre. Perhaps someone who knows about it will stumble across this piece and fill in some details.

One other extraordinary thing (to me) that I have discovered about this day, is when it happened. Because according to the Theatricalia entry for the National Theatre production of The Double Dealer, 22 September 1978 was the first preview night for the production.

It seems to me extraordinary that the National Theatre made so much resource available on the day of the opening night for a bunch of schoolkids from a couple of South London schools. Perhaps this was due to the connections that Alleyn’s had or perhaps that was the way of things – by opening night a lot of people had completed their role with the main cast and could move on to sub-projects such as trying to make sixteen-year-old boys and girls even friskier with each other than they would have been without help.

It really was a most memorable day and it made the subsequent experience – seeing The Double Dealer, including Nicky Henson and Brenda Blethyn act out the scene I had worked on a few week’s earlier – all the more special and thrilling. 

I already had the drama bug to some extent, of course, but this was one of the main experiences that cemented my lifelong enthusiasm for and love of the theatre.