This was one of our “oh wow!” visits to the theatre.
Superb,
was all I write in the log, but I knew I wouldn’t need to write much down because the evening was so memorable.
It was a bank holiday Monday and Mum’s birthday. “How did you get away with that?”, I hear you readers cry.
My diary notes that we went to Mum & Dad for bank holiday lunch before going on to the RNT for Blue / Orange. Simple enough.
This is a great play, which was masterfully performed by Chiwetel Ejiofor (our first sighting of him), Andrew Lincoln and Bill Nighy. Roger Michell directed. Theatricalia tells all here.
My friend, Michael Billington, had a downer on the National at that time – it took me a dozen or so more years to acquire a similar view. Still, Michael B approved of this one:
I had been a fan of Athol Fugard for many years by then and was very keen to see his long-time associates, John Kani & Winston Ntshona, perform. A set up that can lead to disappointment, but in this instance my enthusiasm was fully justified.
It was the play that lacked coherence. Janie couldn’t see past the fragile conceits of the play.
Our friend, Michael Billington, in The Guardian, seems to have shared our reservations. He says that the plot “has more holes than a second-hand colander”…
…(does a new colander have fewer holes than a second-hand one, Michael?)…
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:
This was a major revival of Pinter’s classic, directed by Trevor Nunn with a cracking cast including Imogen Stubbs, Douglas Hodge, Anthony Calf and several other fine actors.
Unusually, we got to this one late – it had been running at the National for a while, since November 1998, by the time we saw it, towards the end of its run.
Charles Spencer had given it a rave review in The Telegraph:
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: