Yes, we saw it before it opened. Yes, it was very good.
Press night was early the following week.
I was always partial to a bit of Poliakoff, so this will have felt like a bit of a birthday treat, opening at that time of year.
In fact, we had been due to go to the Proms on my actual birthday that year, but “Proms 7:30” is scribbled out in my diary for the preceding Wednesday. Not sure what went wrong there – probably we simply failed to get tickets (Claudio Abbado & The Berlin Phil doing Brahms – very popular).
But I digress.
Stellar cast for this one – as was the way back then with Poliakoff at the National or the RSC: Douglas Hodge and Frances de la Tour the biggest names; Graham Crowden & Hermione Norris also standout performers. Here is the Theatricalia entry for this production.
I’ve long been partial to a bit of Potter, as has Daisy.
I had seen the original TV film of this one and to some extent had my doubts about it, as I have never much enjoyed the conceit of adult actors playing the role of children.
Still, the chance to see a National production of a Potter won the day. Many members of this fine cast went on to bigger and bolder things. Steve Coogan, Nigel Lindsay, Debra Gillett, Geraldine Somerville. Patrick Marber directed it.
Whereas Michael Billington wrote highly of it, finding it more translatable from screen to stage than most Potter and describing it as “Potter at his best”:
We were both ambivalent about it. It was clearly a fine production. It pleased me more than the TV version. But that “adults playing children” thing still didn’t really work for me.
Below is an excerpt from the original 1979 TV film:
My log and indeed my memory is unequivocal about this one:
Quite outstanding. One of the very, very best.
A rare visit to the theatre midweek, I’m guessing that our impending trip to Thailand & Vietnam restricted our choices of dates for this one. Such was our desire to see it, we booked a midweek evening to be sure of seeing the production.
Both Antony Sher and Deborah Warner were superb in their roles, as indeed was the whole supporting cast.
In truth, Stanley Spencer’s art is not really my bag, but his story is strange and peculiarly touching, certainly as told in this excellent play by Pam Gems.
Strangely, I cannot find a Guardian review for this one, but Michael Simons previewed it:
All my notes say is that I went with Bobbie Scully and that we thought it was very good.
I remember thinking Ken Stott was superb – I don’t think I had seen him before. It might have been my first encounter with the excellent Alex Jennings. Des Barrit was also a standout performer, as usual. But in truth the whole cast was good and you can see many names on the list who went on to do bigger and bolder things.
There are no on-line reviews to be found – until now – my one right here – yay!
I’m not sure what Bobbie and I did about eating afterwards, but in those days we would sometimes eat at the RNT itself – we might well have done that – or sometimes we’d go to The Archduke or somewhere of that ilk nearby.
Josette Simon was indisposed the night we went, which was a real shame.
I can now exclusively reveal that the understudy we saw instead was Souad Faress. I subsequently did get to see Josette Simon; in The Maids, a few years later. Bobbie might not have been so lucky.
I’m not sure I was wild about the play either. Jacobean tragedies don’t always float my boat and I have a feeling that I sensed that this one wasn’t entirely my cup of tea. The White Devil is heavy on courtly intrigue and light on laughs.
Fine cast as always with a National production, with Eleanor Bron and Denis Quilley as the big draw names along with Josette Simon. Philip Prowse directed. Here is the Theatricalia entry for this production.
Michael Billington was not so keen on this one, claiming that it wasted the actors:
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.
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.
I rated this play/production superb in my log – I remember it well and fondly.
Jim Broadbent and Linda Bassett were both outstanding – I think this might have been the first time I saw either of them in the theatre and it was, I think, my first experience of seeing an Athol Fugard play performed. If so, it was the first of many in all three cases.
The play is about a Russian soldier hiding in a pig sty for many years after the war and possible recriminations for his desertion are over. No doubt it is meant to be a parable with relevance to the Afrikaner position in South Africa.
Frankly, I found it hard to engage too deeply with the parable at the time, but did think it was an interesting and entertaining play, especially in the hands of the talented cast.
Unusually for productions that please me so much, Fugard himself directed this one – I’m not keen on the idea of playwrights directing their own work and usually detect some untrammelled egotism in such productions, but I think Fugard might be an exception to the “don’t direct your own plays” rule of thumb.
Did Bobbie enjoy this one as much as I did? I think so, at the time, but whether it stuck so long in her memory as it did mine is a question I’ll have to ask her.
Blinded Lyn Gardner Guardian 04 Sep 1996, Wed The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
Blinded Coveney Observer 08 Sep 1996, Sun The Observer (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
Blinded Paul Taylor Indy 05 Sep 1996, Thu The Independent (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
