“Genuine pathos lifts the story from the dangers of superficiality”
“Yes, they’re all out there; the theatre community royalty. The finest collection of personality disorders this side of the Freudian nightmare”
Welcome to the world of Stanley Shenton, once a respected classical actor, but now relegated to appearing in murder mysteries on seaside piers. And welcome to Simon Bradbury, the (real life) actor who plays Stanley in ‘Curtain Call’, the show that kicks off the White Bear’s Christmas season. Bradbury is also the writer. The warning light inevitably switches on here, flashing the words ‘vanity project’, but this is rapidly extinguished. In this three-hander, Bradbury selflessly refuses to steal all the best lines for himself, generously doling them out to each character. His acerbic wit and finely tuned observations permeate the dialogue and make this play a joy to watch throughout.
It is always interesting to get a glimpse of what goes on ‘behind the scenes’. The phrase itself conjures up a clandestine world, entry into which is a privilege. This is where the truth lies. Behind the mask, and beneath the makeup. There are inevitable echoes of Michael Frayn’s ‘Noises Off’, and more noticeably Ricky Gervais’ ‘Extras’, but the cast manage to transcend this comparison by sidestepping caricature and making their characters totally believable.
Stanley, having been fired after his last disastrous Sunday matinee, is visited by Shelley Kline, an ex-girlfriend who hopes to rescue him from his desperate straights by offering him a job with her. Now a successful theatre director, she wants him to play Gloucester in an upcoming production of ‘King Lear’ in the West End. One of the problems, however, is that Rod C. Tanner, an old friend and rival for Shelley’s affections, is playing the king himself. Complicating things further is Rod’s TV star status and Stanley’s resentment and feelings of inadequacy.
Bradbury’s Stanley is weighed down with practically a whole chip shop on his shoulder. His boorishness, however, does not deter his old flame (touchingly portrayed by Heide Yates, the Canadian singer/actress in her UK debut) from trying to get him back on track. Yates evokes a fine mix of altruism and love behind her character’s motives. But just as you think this is the main story, Aran Bell’s Rod C Tanner enters. The play undoubtedly steps up a notch. The banter and rivalry between Bradbury and Bell would give Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau a run for their money. The humour is dark and often relentless as they hack away at each other, yet this is no lightweight comedy, it is ultimately touching, and Bell’s transformation from his gloating antagonism to eventually identifying a true friend in need is heart warming. That is the inherent strength in the writing. Weighty issues, such as alcoholism or the very real affliction of chronic stage fright, are given the comedy treatment but not demeaned in any way. Genuine pathos lifts the story from the dangers of superficiality.
Brian Croucher’s direction keeps the energy flowing throughout and Beth Colley’s costumes are worthy of a West End theatre. The White Bear has always been acclaimed for its pioneering dedication to new writing and quality theatre. This is no exception. The combined talents and shared experience of this troupe clearly shows. Well worth a visit indeed.
“the dialogue cracks like a whip and never slips into sentimentality or false romanticism”
History has a habit of repeating itself. The current media spotlight on misconduct in the Movie World is nothing new. Neither is the hypocrisy that surrounds it, albeit nowadays it is that much more visible. “The Tailor-Made Man” at the White Bear Theatre is a timely reminder of this fact. This play has come full circle too. Claudio Macor’s play premiered in 1992, and was later developed as a musical at the Arts Theatre in 2013, and has now reverted back to straight drama for this twenty-fifth anniversary.
The ‘Tailor-Made Man’ of the title is William “Billy” Haines, a popular silent screen MGM movie star who was fired by Louis B Mayer because he was gay, and because he refused to give up his lifelong partner, Jimmie Shields, and marry the silent screen vamp Pola Negri. As punishment, his films were removed from release and sealed in the MGM vaults never to be seen again, and his studio photographs destroyed. It was an attempt to erase him completely from movie history.
This is the focus of the text, but Macor, being a master of his craft, effortlessly weaves their very human story into the greater tapestry of 1920s Hollywood. His observations of that world are spot-on, and he is unafraid to rip into the high-flown hypocrisies and homophobic double standards of ‘Tinsel Town’. Aided by a strong cast, the dialogue cracks like a whip and never slips into sentimentality or false romanticism.
Mitchell Hunt plays William Haines. It is difficult to play a love story without affecting the over emotionalism, but Hunt pulls it off. Almost too well, for initially we have no sympathy for the character whatsoever. It is testament to the writing though, and to the acting, that we realise this is a deliberate ploy. Billy Haines was very much a product of the machinations of Hollywood. Once removed, forcibly, from the studios, and free of it all, he is a delight. Hunt smoothly depicts this transformation – the arc of his journey is palpable.
Tom Berkeley’s Jimmie Shields is undoubtedly the backbone of the piece. Intermittently stepping out of the action he narrates, to camera, his own take on the story; a device that reinforces the power of his love. Mention must be made too, of Rachel Knowles, who plays Pola Negri. Still pining for Rudolph Valentino, her monologue describing her failure to make the transition from the silent pictures to the talkies is sublimely delivered, throwing pathos, grief, sadness and comedy all into the same melting pot. A potpourri of ingredients that could so easily go wrong, but she dishes it up with exquisite flavour. She has some of the best lines. In fact it is the mix of gravity and comedy that lifts this piece of theatre. Before the subject matter becomes too earnest the cast remember the importance of being comic.
But the play is the thing. This is a strong piece of writing, made stronger by the fact that it is a true story. A play of hope, of survival, of being yourself and, above all, of triumph. And to that end, this production is clearly a triumph.
