|
|
|
|
|
|
Stars explained: * A production of no real merit
with failings in all areas. ** A production showing evidence of not
enough time or effort, or even talent, and which never breathes any real
life into the piece – or a show lumbered with a terrible script. *** A
good enjoyable show which might have some small flaws but has largely
achieved what it set out to do.**** An excellent show which shows a
great deal of work and stage craft with no noticeable or major
flaws.***** A four star show which has found that extra bit of magic
which lifts theatre to another plane. |
|
|
Phil Nooney as Tory MP Robin making a point to a far from convinced and far more liberal wife Diana, played by Maura Judges Hansard Highbury Theatre Centre **** Every marriage has its ups and downs, the odd disagreement, the occasional argument, the differences of opinion, the sporadic squall, but in Robin and Diana Hesketh’s case it is the moments of calm that are the infrequent episodes, theirs is not so much a marriage as a permanent fencing match, scoring points off each other, parrying insults and getting under each other’s skin. The year is 1988 and he is a junior minister in Margaret Thatcher’s government, she the supportive wife, at least sometimes, perhaps, tasked with maintaining their home in rural up-market Oxfordshire. He, scion of the establishment, is the MP for an unnamed safe Cotswold constituency, a true blue seat of wealth and privilege, qualities familiar, of course, to anyone of his background, while she is from more, let’s say, liberal, socially aware origins, and seen by his parents, or at least his mother, as . . . should we say, less than ideal, and we'll leave it at that. Robin, awash with Thatcherite confidence is a poster boy for traditional, dyed in the blue wool, political conservatism, toeing the party line whatever it is, putting the good of the party, sorry, country above all else, and, in Diana’s view, having no real concept of the effects of government and the decisions made in Westminster on the less privileged. Robin spends Westminster weekdays in his London flat returning home for the weekend each Friday for R&R, although not so much rest and recreation in his case as rows and recriminations. If Neil Kinnock and the Labour party were the official opposition in Westminster, Diana provided the unofficial version at home with biting wit and sarcasm built up over years and years of disillusionment in both marriage and politics. She doesn’t work, having been dissuaded from doing so by Robin, so spends weekdays alone, with time to brood, and, it seems, is no stranger to gin and bloody marys to help pass the time.
Robin and Diana and their antique table which had cost a fortune and was one of he first things they had bought as a married couple While Phil Nooney’s Robin uncomfortably blusters and fumbles his way around arguments which often lack real conviction, Maura Judges’ Diana prods him with rapier-like precision, quietly and clinically with lightning speed, such as when he tries to claim the Government were trying to bring back values we once had as a more moral society and Diana declares using nostalgia was the only way the Tories got some votes, and then when he slavishly lauded Margaret Thatcher she bursts his bright, shiny, blue balloon by describing his hero as the missing link between the social democrat Nancy Mitford and Attila the Hun. The current skirmish is around Section 28, which was part of the Local Government Act of 1988 which barred local authorities and state schools from endorsing or publishing material promoting homosexuality with state schools banned from even teaching acceptance of homosexuality. The controversial act, incidentally, was repealed in Scotland in 2000 and in England and Wales in 2003. The idea was to protect the nation and especially its youth from supposedly being taught homosexuality was acceptable, or perhaps even existed at all . . . who knows. It could hardly be seen as a subject to teach like maths or woodwork so was more denial than debate. What it did do was create a chasm of Grand Canyon proportions between obsequiously loyal to the party Robin supporting the bill and liberal Diana who saw the act as cruel and morally wrong, pointing out the hypocrisy from a party with more than one member following the party line from within their own particular closet. The writing from Simon Woods is witty and sharp, with what seem to be random running themes. There is the lawn, which is being dug up by what was believed to be foxes, which incidentally adds an aside about immigration, with fears foreign foxes could sneak in to the UK through the Channel Tunnel where construction had started the previous December.
Robin is taken aback as Diana reads a telling passage from a diary he never knew existed And then there was Robin not being at his flat when Diana went to visit him on the previous Wednesday and he had still not returned in the evening. Where was he? After all he did have form, Diana being his second wife, with two star hotels in out of the way Swindon along with Berni Inns in the mix - it was on a Thursday back then by the way. For more than an hour we have the sharp exchanges, the biting, often cruel wit, almost like Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf without an appearance of Nick and Honey. It is entertaining if uncomfortable at times but, in truth, is not really going anywhere, just a couple sniping at each other with no obvious purpose. Despite that they are still together after all these years. They were married in 1966, with Diana pregnant, no doubt to the dismay of Robin’s mother, but fast forward to1988 and perhaps there is a still a love affair hidden somewhere in there, even if it is gift wrapped in barbed wire. The politics of 40 years ago and the trauma of the Thatcher years have dimmed but the concepts are as relevant now as then with Diana our political conscience questioning whether politics and politicians ever consider the ordinary people, not just the privileged, but the vast majority in their decision making. She claims he puts his political ideology over anything approaching empathy for the common man. As Diana puts it, it is easy to mistake an expensive education with an actual understanding of the world. Robin, meanwhile, has a political view that cannot deviate, and its seems that same rigidity, that inability to compromise, extends to his personal life. Neither will give an inch, neither is prepared to listen, accept, understand or even consider the other’s point of view. But with 22 years of marriage behind them yet still together, you suspect there is more to the animosity than meets the eye, something deeper hidden and unspoken behind the clashes. Politics are dissected in the cut and thrust but as the layers are slowly peeled away, the political affairs drift into the personal, and finally we come to the moving moment that brings the ruined lawn, Section 28, Robin’s supposed lack of empathy, and perhaps even Diana’s excessive drinking, into stark focus. After more than an hour of constant, petty bickering, seemingly heading nowhere, we find we have a real play, a real drama on our hands in a strangely moving and unexpected dénouement. Like Edward Albee’s tale of George and Martha, the sniping stops. The Heskeths had become rather like cheerleaders for the divisions Thatcherism had created in the nation, the haves and have nots, the unions and the employers, the right and the left, but suddenly they were people, politics forgotten, a man and a woman, husband and wife, father and mother. The stifling, unbearable weight Robin and Diana have carried around for a decade or so was lifted, the shield of guilt, denial, loss, whatever fell away and the senseless suddenly made sense. For the first time we had empathy for the characters and their real human story that neither had been able to bring themselves to face. For much of this two hander Robin and Diana are almost like strangers, there is no affection, they don’t even seem to like each other. It is funny, with some gloriously wicked and biting lines, but there is a hint of watching a train crash about it, you cringe at times at the cruel barbs thrown in among the laughs. But in that last few minutes all that is forgotten as we feel for them and the harrowing past they both share but have struggled so long and so hard to bear, each carrying their own part, their own despair and their own loss silently and alone. In the restricted space of the studio Malcolm Robertshaw has created an authentic looking set complete with antique table, a symbol of tradition and stability, and the obligatory Tory MP's Margaret Thatcher portrait. Two handers are a challenge and with first night out of the way this should settle into a satisfying and telling production with its unexpected and dramatic end. Directed by Ahmed Ali, the pair will be arguing the toss to 24-05-25. Roger Clarke 19-05-25 |
|
|
|
