The central story, a Jewish family business dominated by a matriarch who has brought a lot of attitude with her from the old country, naturally resonated with me. Not that the Harris family was at war with itself in the manner of the tragi-comic Solomon family of this play, thank goodness.
Dad’s shop – a relatively tranquil place
Sara Kestelman as the matriarch, Yetta Solomon, was simply superb. We have seen her several times before; I especially remember her in Copenhagen at the RNT years ago and more recently in The Intelligent Homosexual’s Guide at the Hampstead – click here, but this Yetta role might have been written for her.
As the play went on and the depths of Yetta’s schemes and subterfuges come to light, her character reminded me increasingly of Shakespeare’s Richard III. Perhaps this was Ryan Craig’s intention, as Yetta confides in the audience in very “Dick the Shit” style towards the end of the play.
The ghastliness of the Solomon family and the extent of the machinations at times errs towards caricature, yet Ryan Craig (perhaps combined with Ed Hall’s skilled direction) kept us caring enough about the characters and willing to go with the flow of the plot, even at its extremes. The funny bits are mostly very funny; the confrontational bits thrilling and shocking.
The Yetta Solomon character sees keeping the family together (and in the family business) to be so important as to override pretty much all other practical and moral imperatives. This is Yetta’s flaw, her tragedy.
I recognised some of the characteristics from my own family – the story Yetta tells from her childhood in the shtetl – of chasing Cossack trouble-makers away with a stick – was almost word for word a story I remember my Grandma Ann telling me.
But I don’t believe Grandma Ann used divide and rule to try to keep the Harris family together and she was certainly willing for (indeed she encouraged) her boys to branch out into other businesses – e.g. my father’s and Uncle Alec’s photographic businesses.
Grandma Ann: Harris family business matriarch, yes, machinations, no.
But Filthy Business makes you think well beyond the family and its business. It is a play about the immigrant experience, about London in the 1960’s, 1970’s and 1980’s, about inter-generational change.
I had been impressed by Ryan Craig’s plays before – we saw The Glass Room at the Hampstead 10+ years ago and more recently The Holy Rosenbergs at the RNt – both of which will find their way to Ogblog in the fullness of time.
To my (and Janie’s) taste, Filthy Business is Ryan Craig’s best play yet and we look forward to more good stuff from him.
I’d forgotten how much Tony Kushner likes to write long plays. Perhaps the unfeasibly long title for this play (which Kushner helpfully abbreviates to an Apple-device-like nickname “iHo”) should have reminded me.
But I did remember how superb Angels in America had been in 1993, even though I only saw the first part of that seven-hour epic as I was so poorly the day Janie and I were supposed to see the second half that Janie went to see it alone while I spent the evening (as indeed I had spent the whole day) on the potty.
It had been a long wait for the next Tony Kushner and I snapped up these Hampstead tickets with relish when I saw the superb-looking cast and creatives list for iHo.
Still, come the weekend of our visit, when I saw that the production was listed as 3 hours and 30 minutes long, my heart sank a bit and I started to formulate contingency, bail-out plans, just in case it was all going to be too much. Two intervals give you extra scope for polite bail-out, of course.
Neither Janie nor I tend to have as much attention span as we once had. Perhaps it is a sign of the times; younger folk these days hardly ever finish a…or perhaps our increasing age decreases our patience – ’nuff said.
I needn’t have worried. The play has plenty going on to hold my attention for that length of time. Janie was less sure about the play than I was, but she was very taken with the performances, the design and the directing.
We ran into John and Linda – a couple we often see at the theatre and who live near the flat in Notting Hill Gate – for the first time in ages – chatting to them made both intervals whizz by.
The play might pick up some criticism for being a long, meandering ramble through an essentially simple plot about a family and their brownstone homestead in Brooklyn. But of course the play covers more than that; homosexuality, capitalism, socialism (and indeed Marxism) naturally show up; to a greater or lesser extent defining characteristics of the complex personalities of the chaotic protagonists.
Central to the plot is the overt and outspoken desire of the central character, a retired longshoreman/union-leader played excellently by David Calder, voluntarily to commit an act of euthanasia. His bisexual employment-lawyer daughter, the equally excellent Tamsin Greig, an intriguing opponent to the idea, matching the old git with her advocacy and connivances to try to steer the outcome her way, metaphorical punch for metaphorical punch.
The rest of the family and their entourages were also wonderfully depicted by this excellent cast. Family row scenes tended to have several people yelling at the same time, yet, through superb writing/directing, I felt that we were getting to hear and follow everything we were supposed to.
Anyway, we saw this production in preview, so the reviews are yet to show. The good ones will (in the fullness of time) be on the Hampstead resource for this production – here’s the link again. You’ll have to find poor/indifferent ones for yourselves unless I decide to return to this page and add some.
I thought this play/production was great and well worth seeing. Janie, less sure about the play, still thought it worth seeing. We both found a light, shawarma supper afterwards well worth eating.
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!
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.
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.
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.
