It was a fictionalised…somewhat fantasised account of encounters (which did occur to some extent in real life) between the writer Mikhail Bulgakov and Joseph Stalin.
We were blessed with Alex Jennings as Bulgakov and Simon Russell Beale as Stalin, with Nicholas Hytner in the director’s chair.
In truth, I don’t think it was a great play. It was a very good idea for a play with some very good scenes within it, but as a whole it didn’t quite work for me as an entire play.
But there was enough really good stuff going on to please me plenty, on balance. Whereas I think Janie found it a little drawn out and confused/confusing.
Again, this time with Janie, we saw a stellar cast and the work of a fine director (Sam Mendes rather than Trevor Nunn).
My log says:
Sadly, Janie hated it and I had pulled my neck, so we bowed out gracefully at half time. (Well, Janie bowed, I couldn’t bow of course).
My neck condition was doubtless not improved by Janie’s manifest disquiet and the length of the play. Perhaps I had overdone it the previous weekend at Andrea’s BBQ party on the Saturday and Kim & Micky’s evening do the next day.
Apologies to the fine cast who had to do without us for the second half of that evening; Simon Russell Beale, David Harewood & Claire Skinner leading the pack. Trevor Peacock, Colin Tierney, Indira Varma and others supporting well no doubt. It’s either me, or the play, or me & the play…it’s not you, loves. The Theatricalia entry gives you chapter and verse on the cast and crew.
There was a hoo-ha in the press that summer about whether or not Othello could or should be played by a white actor. Having seen Willard White in 1989 and David Harewood in 1997, I was not really party to the phenomenon that Othello is usually played by a white actor and that the play is increasingly rarely performed because some people are uncomfortable about skin colour with regard to that part.
Janie and I saw a preview long before the press night of this production – indeed before most of that press hoo-ha kicked off, which made the hoo-ha seem even more weird to us.
Anyway, Charles Spencer seemed very impressed with the production once press night came around:
I am happy to concede that the critics were right and/but this simply isn’t a play for Janie and probably (even though i am far more partial to Shakespeare than she) not for me either. A pain in the neck is how I remember it.
I liked this more than Janie did. I thought it was a very good production and I have long had an affection for the play.
Janie sees this as an example of Tom Stoppard being “a bit too clever for his own good”, a view I can understand but with which I don’t agree. Let’s just say that Janie does not remember this fondly.
Stellar cast for this RSC production of the great Chekhov play. Alfred Burke, Simon Russell Beale, Amanda Root, John Carlisle, Susan Fleetwood, Roger Allam…to name but a few. In the capable hands of Terry Hands.
I hadn’t realised that this production was Terry Hands’s swansong for the RSC, but Nicholas de Jongh made much of that fact while praising the production in The Guardian:
Writing this one up more than 30 years later, I am a bit confused about when I saw it and with whom, if indeed anyone else. I do know for sure that I saw this production at The Swan and was very taken with it.
I took a week off work just after Easter that year, visiting various friends about the place. I’ll write that up as best I can in due course. But in my appointments diary it clearly states “Troilus” 19 April.
Roll the clock forward to November, I saw Much Ado at the Royal Shakespeare Memorial with Moose. Tucked in with the Much Ado programme is the Troilus programme.
So did I simply pick up the programme in November having seen a preview of Troilus on my tod in April, or did I duck out in April and see this in the autumn with Moose? I think the former, but I’ll see if Moose can help me unpick this one.
Anyway, what a cast and what a fine production I recall. Ralph Fiennes was Troilus and I think it might have been a conversation with him at Lambton Place (my health club, latterly BWW) that encouraged me to see a preview of this production at Stratford.
Amanda Root played Cressida very well and David Troughton was a top notch Hector, Paterson Joseph a fine Patroclus. Wonderful supporting cast full of names that latterly became big. Sam Mendes was a bit of a Shakespeare novice back then.
I remember this play, production and indeed the whole evening very well.
I had long been a fan of Poliakoff’s plays when I went to see this one, having read a great many of his plays and seen a few of the filmed versions of his works, but this was I think only the second time I’d got to see one of his plays on the stage.
My log says:
Very good. We sat next to Poliakoff himself and went on to Daniel [Scordel]’s party afterwards.
“We”, in this instance, was me and Annalisa de Mercur. The evening we attended was a preview – I think possibly even the first or one of the first previews.
I recall us getting to The Pit a little late and struggling to see any available pairs of seats once we got in. Annalisa made a bee-line for some empty seats that were clearly marked “reserved” with Stephen Poliakoff himself sitting next to those reservations.
“You can’t sit there”, I said to Annalisa, “they’re reserved”.
“It’s OK, you can sit there”, said Stephen Poliakoff.
“Are you sure it’s OK?” I said to him.
“Yes, they won’t all be needed”, he said.
“Are you something to do with the production?”, asked Annalisa, in the sort of questioning tone that only she might use in such circumstances.
“Stephen’s the playwright”, I said to her, “so I think he knows what he’s talking about”.
“Thank you”, I said to Stephen.
“That’s all right”, said Stephen. Then he said, “I wish they wouldn’t put my picture on the programme. I don’t like being recognised”.
“I’d have recognised you anyway”, I said.
Stephen Poliakoff half-smiled at me.
I really liked this play and the production. It is not Poliakoff’s finest, but it was a very interesting play, covering (as Poliakoff often does) societal issues and family issues in one fell swoop.
Superb cast, including my first live look at several truly excellent stage folk: Michael Pennington, Simon Russell Beale, Lesley Sharpe and Ralph Fiennes to name but four.
Annalisa was not as keen on this piece as I was. To be honest, she wasn’t very interested in theatre, but tended to come along to stuff I’d booked with Bobbie in mind if/when Bobbie wasn’t available.
I think it might have been during the interval of this one, in reference to a family row during the piece, that Annalisa commented, “I don’t much like this sort of drama – I can get all this at home.
It reminded me of one of my favourite Peter Cook quotes:
I go to the theatre to be entertained… I don’t want to see plays about rape, sodomy and drug addiction… I can get all that at home.
Playing With Trains did not have rape, sodomy or drug addiction as far as I recall. I do also remember suggesting that Annalisa keep her opinions to herself until we were clear of The Pit given that it was a preview night and it wasn’t the cast and crew’s fault that I had taken a guest who was not so keen on theatre.
We legged it across town to Daniel Scordel’s pad on Trinity Road, where the party was in full swing once we got there. I think Daniel was going out with Maz (Marianne Tudor Craig) by then, but I think that relationship was still quite new. I don’t remember much about the party other than it being rather a good one.
I do specifically remember Daniel’s kid sister, who was I think 17 or 18 at that time, grooving to a particular dance tune that I liked but did not recognise, so I asked her, after the record finished, what it was.
“You haven’t heard of it?” she said, “but it’s been in the charts for weeks. You’re sad”.
