ARTS
Theatre
A Penny for a Song (Barbican)
English, eccentric and entertaining
Christopher Edwards
This is a delightful revival of John Whiting's underrated 1951 comedy. Whit- ing himself is an underrated writer whose work — admittedly a slim oeuvre — merits more attention than it is given. Not that he was principally a comic playwright at all. In fact the bleak and opaque quality of much of his writing probably had much to do with the relative failure of his career. But he was an original artist, respected by his more successful peers and possessed of a rare ability to handle complex moral themes without recourse to received ideas. A measure of his status in post-war British theatre — albeit as a now forgotten voice — is his inclusion by Raymond Williams in his volume on European theatre as one of four British dramatists of particular signifi- cance. The other three were Osborne, Arden and Pinter. Peter Brook was also a champion. So was Peter Hall. Whiting's death from cancer in 1963 at the early age of 45 represented a real loss to British theatre.
As Simon Trussler's informative pro- gramme notes remind us, Whiting was interesting not just on account of what he wrote but also because of what he oPposed. He rejected the 'new wave' drama in terms which (while unfair on the theatre of George Devine) resound per- tinently for the last 20 or so years' inheri- tance of subsidised political theatre. He conceded that the movement had a heart: All that throbbing emotionalism proves it. • . . It is that little tiny head that worries me.' He was always against propagandist theatre and he felt more and more out of Place in the mood of political commitment that surrounded him. Trussler quotes a fine Passage when Whiting was asked how he would set about writing a masterpiece. It is worth hearing again. . . 'By becoming more sceptical and less enthusiastic. By not marching anywhere. By reserving love for Women, and not spreading it thinly over the whole of humanity. By not going to the Royal Court Theatre. By detesting simpli- city more than I do, if that is possible.. . by total rejection of knitted, woollen morality.' It would be interesting to set a competition asking candidates to bring that essential list up to date. Feminist theatre would certainly appear on any winning entry.
But these combative views have little Place when considering a comedy such as A Penny for a Song. It was written in an essentially genial spirit and takes an almost childlike pleasure in the eccentricities of the English at war. The curtain goes up on Bob Crowley's Regency garden set and reveals an old man asleep up a tree surrounded by a telescope, a bell and a strange Heath Robinson contraption vaguely resembling a weather vane. This is one William Humpage (David Bradley) who has been posted aloft by Sir Timothy Bellboys (Brian Cox) to scan the South Coast for signs of Napoleon's invading armies. At the same time Humpage is acting under the orders of Timothy's equal- ly dotty brother, Lamprett (Ian McNeice), to scan the horizon for fires; this in order to enable Lamprett to bring his private fire engine into use at a moment's notice. The national emergency is taken very seriously 'Can I borrow the gear for the sales, Sergeant?' by Timothy who is of the view that Eng- land's defences are pitifully inadequate. He decides to defeat Napoleon single- handed by dressing up as the French Emperor and ordering the invading army back across the Channel with the assistance of a pocket French phrase book. No less batty and no less patriotic is his sister-in- law Hester (Elizabeth Millbank) a bluff, dauntless Englishwoman who announces that she intends to join the Amazon Corps in East Anglia.
But the play is no mere exercise in whimsy. The humour is quintessentially English — eccentric, understated and iro- nical — although it has been roundly criticised by detractors as a dated Punch magazine view of the English. Certainly there is something cosy about Whiting's characterisations but the plot is brilliantly constructed and the piece as a whole is very funny. Whiting creates a sequence of far- cical misunderstandings in which Sir Timothy is mistaken by the local militia for Napoleon, steals a hot-air balloon, de- scends down his garden well, is cannoned across the countryside by a ton of explosive and returns, battered but unbowed, to organise a game of cricket with the militia commander who turns out to be a famous Somerset cricketer, Stumper Selincourt (John Shrapnel).
Whiting's bleaker side emerges in the somewhat uneasily integrated sub-plot be- tween Dorcas Bellboys (Rudi Davies) and the earnest blind soldier Edward Sterne (Mick Ford). The soldier is on his way to London to plead with King George to end the war and the 17-year-old Dorcas falls in love with him. Much of the dialogue between this pair is flawed by sententious- ness although Rudi Davies's delightful spontaneity keeps the exchanges alive with the first flush of youthful love. But the themes which sound through this love affair are essential to Whiting — \as is perhaps the flawed sententious writing.
The moral world inhabited by many of the characters in his other plays is a cruel one, especially where innocence or illusion are concerned; and this note is certainly sound- ed here albeit in a mellower strain. But a fresh comic spirit governs most of the play and, sub-plot apart, there is not a redun- dant line or idea to hold up the advance of the farcical machinery.
The play has had a chequered career like most of Whiting's work. It flopped in 1951 and a revised version flopped again in 1962. His detractors are still in good voice but this brilliantly staged revival (directed by Howard Davies) is highly recommended as a clever and amusing evening out.
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