BRIMSTONE
AND TREACLE
Theatre
at Baddow at the Parish Hall
24.05.17
This
was Dennis Potter's favourite of his plays. Famously, it was kept off
the BBC for years, and this theatrical version was made to get it in
front of an audience.
Forty
years later, it
still has the power to shock and offend. The callous abuse, and the
nationalistic bigotry, still all too recognisable in our society
today.
It
is not often staged, so we should be doubly impressed that this
enterprising group have selected it, and presented it so well.
The
setting is the 70s – brown wallpaper – convincingly furnished,
even if the lighting could more subtly have suggested the darkness of
these blighted lives: “We live in the shadows...” says Tom.
John
Mabey's thoughtful production benefits from a strong quartet of
players. Jean Speller is Amy, weariness and distress etched on her
face as she smooths the moth-eaten knitted throw. She still clings
to the hope that her severely disabled daughter [a convincing
performance from Vicky Wright in a very challenging role] will one
day come back to them. Her husband – Bob Ryall – is sceptical.
Drawn to the fascist National Front, he speaks tellingly of a dog in
the distance, and of his nightmare of impotent paralysis. He is
convinced that the ingratiating
stranger who invades their private lives is “up to something”.
In
Andy Poole's chilling performance, "Martin" has the air of a doorstep
evangelist, with his easy charm and oleaginous smile. As often with
Potter, religious references abound. There's a “whiff of sulphur”
- the brimstone of the title – about this helpful saint, who offers
a smitten Amy “all the kingdoms of the earth”. Luke
4:5.
The
production has many telling moments: in the Glenfiddich-fuelled final
scene the two men talk their fascist talk literally over Amy's head.
Martin's reaction speaks volumes as Tom longs to go back to the way
things were. The mealy-mouthed prayer is done in a stylised
spotlight, and Potter would surely have loved the shocking
“seduction”, choreographed to the folle
farandole
of Piaf's La
Foule.
The
ending, genuinely shocking, raises more questions about the events
which precede the play, and the cathartic role of the malevolent
Martin.
It's
possible to imagine a funnier take on the play, or a more nuanced
Good Samaritan. But this is an impressive production of Potter's
savage parable, just as provocatively offensive as it was back in the
more innocent Seventies.
Image:
Barry Taylor
