Cocktail Sticks

Out in the Sticks

Cocktail Sticks and Two in Torquay

by Alan Bennett

BCP at the OSO Arts Centre until 30^th July

Review by Vince Francis

A pleasant summer’s evening for an excursion to OSO Arts and, on arrival, the bonus of a jazz trio playing in the foyer.  Nice.   However, the evening’s dramatic offering consisted of an Alan Bennett double-header, Cocktail Sticks, followed by Two in Torquay.

Cocktail Sticks is an autobiographical piece, originally produced at the National Theatre in 2012, in which Bennett explores his feelings around his experience of childhood and his parents.  He paints a picture of a budding author and dramatist, frustrated by the undramatic ordinariness of his upbringing and grieving for the lack of trauma, which he sees as the inspiration for good or great writers.  The theme of separation is also explored, focussing on Bennett’s transition away from his working-class roots resulting from a university education, and echoing Willy Russel’s 1980 contemplation in Educating Rita.  The piece is, to some extent, a revisiting of Bennett’s memoir A Life Like Other People’s, in which one of the themes is the prospect, or illusion, that other people have more fulfilling lives, including endless cocktail parties, which idea provided a fascination for both Bennett and his mother.

The original production had Bennett himself as narrator and Alex Jennings as the young Bennett.  However, Barnes Community Players has Ashley Brown ably interpreting both roles and providing a passable impression of Bennett himself in the process, although the wig might benefit from a little further house training.

Ashley Duggan and Trevor Hartnup, as Mam and Dad respectively, give a warm and comforting image of a happy marriage, notwithstanding the odd niggle and Cressida Strauss and Jonathan Simmonds ably provide a plethora of incidental characters, using on-stage costume changes sourced from a heavily loaded coat stand.  A nod to Trevor here for achieving the required precipitate change in accent, costume, and character all at once at one point in the script.  I also appreciated the rather delicate handling of the deaths of Dad and, later, Mam. 

Terry Oakes’ production is clearly preparing the cast for transfer to the smaller playing spaces offered by the Edinburgh fringe and good use is made of limited room here.

There were, however, one or two elements that didn’t sit quite as comfortably with me, one of which I’ll detail at greater length further on, as it applies to both pieces.  Firstly, the Hovis Ad music as a universal and enduring symbol of “the North”.  The extract is from the Largo in the New World Symphony, which was written by Dvorák, a Czech émigré in America, inspired by Negro spirituals and Native American music.  In 1893.  The ad was filmed in Dorset.  In 1973.  I suppose it is a credit to the advertising industry, or perhaps Ridley Scott’s production of that particular ad, that the use of a brass band and an accented voice-over – as I recall, the accent was actually from the south-west somewhere – has forever stamped this as the emblem of the North of England, but it feels a little hackneyed.  Secondly, in the Desert Island Discs scene, the theme played throughout the conversation.  I don’t think they do that on the radio.

Other than that, this production rocked along fairly well and Bennett’s lugubrious wit and observation were well interpreted and delivered.

The second part of the evening’s entertainment comprised the shorter piece, Two in Torquay.  This two-hander has Lizzie Williams as Miss Plunkett and Jonathan Simmonds as Mr Mortimer.

A solitary Miss Plunkett is initially sat in one of two chairs on the stage, knitting.  She is a ‘lady of a certain age’ and gives the impression of being quite proper in her manner.  She is joined by a solicitous Mr Mortimer, who engages her in what seems to be very ordinary polite conversation, set in the conservatory of some institution.  However, seasoned watchers of Bennett will know that, in these set-ups, things are rarely what they seem at the outset and this piece quickly offers clues that this may be the case here.  Miss Plunkett’s life as a spinster caring for her mother is prodded and poked at by Mr Mortimer and a fairly dark discussion ensues, leading to first one and then another twist, which leaves Miss Plunkett triumphant.

Lizzie Williams has the measure of this, with an ease of delivery and timing that, to my mind, demonstrates her understanding of the writer’s intent and vision.  And this brings me to the issue I alluded to earlier.

For me, one of the traits of Bennett’s writing is the naturalistic flow of the dialogue.  The gags and insights are offered in that easy, everyday cadence and rhythm of the regional dialect.  But in order to achieve that, the actors have to be entirely on top of the script.  Sadly, not everyone was last night, and the stops and recoveries were apparent.  I think the key thing is to keep the piece going and it was this thought that reminded me of a conversation I’d had with a musician mate – a trombonist – a while ago.  If you ask a soloist musician how many times they have played a particular piece and how many times they have got that piece note-perfect, the second number will be less than the first.  However, in performance, you can’t continually ask the orchestra to stop and go back a couple of bars so that you can put back in the note you missed, or wait while you figure it out.  The momentum of the piece will be compromised if not lost entirely and the audience will know this, particularly if it’s a popular piece.  The key thing is to stay in the moment and pick up where the orchestra is.

These are two very good productions and I genuinely wish BCP every success with Cocktail Sticks at the Edinburgh Festival.  Just keep the flow going.

Vince Francis, July 2023

Photography by Charlotte May and Malc McDonald