Last night was a televisual feast for me. The BBC decided to dedicate a whole evening of their increasingly impressive BBC 4 schedule to the masterpiece that is the play Abigail’s Party, written by Mike Leigh and first broadcast in 1977 as part of the BBC’s “Play for Today” series after a run at the Hampstead Theatre. I’ve seen the play several times on TV, and once on stage in Southampton. Every time I watch the play I wonder if the contrapuntal mixture of black comedy/cringe-worthy embarrassment and eventual tragedy will still hold the test of time. Of course, it does so with aplomb. Stuff like this is truly ageless.
The play is set at a drinks party in a suburban household during a time when Britain was undergoing changes as fundamental as those that happened in the previous decade. Whilst the 60’s are fondly viewed through rose-tinted glasses as a time of peace and love, where the “teenager” really took root, technology would save the world, jobs were plentiful and the years of post-war austerity were gone, the 70’s are often viewed in a dimmer light. A time of poor taste in fashion, industrial strife, weak government and an increasingly disenfranchised youth about tot grasp the reins of the punk revolution. In truth the 70’s were as much a time of change and increasing hope as the 60’s. More and more we see the 70’s being reflected upon nostalgically, perhaps related to the growing dominance of the 40-somethings playing a leading part in today’s’ society. Who knows?
What makes the play stand out so much is the ability of the writing to continually reflect the tensions of society that have plagued us from time immemorial, irrespective of the time it is set in. Are our relationships worthwhile? What about our children? What do others think of us? It reflects worries about work and captures our primary desires to be accepted by peers and friends, and to increase our social standing within our local environment.
The play effectively made Mike Leigh’s career, and turned Alison Steadman into a household name. Her imperious and faultless portrayal of the overpowering, domineering Beverly and her faux sincerity is exquisitely beautiful and painful to watch at the same time. Tim Stern makes the downward spiral of Beverly’s husband, Laurence, the extremely stressed estate agent really come to life and you simultaneously despise his smug, self perceived social superiority and middle class pretentious snobbery towards the others whilst being inexorably drawn into feeling great sorrow and despair for him as his life ebbs away, both psychologically by his belittling wife, and ultimately physically when the stress takes it’s inevitable toll on his heart.
Following on that you have the superbly understated performance by Harriet Reynolds as Sue, the emotionally shackled divorcee, whose daughter Abigail is having the real party. You never see Abigail, but the constant thump of the music, and the blasé references to teenagers and their parties slowly but surely stoke up the level of worry inside her. The muffled music also serves as a mechanism that highlights the generational difference that has always existed between those at the start of adulthood and those of us cynics worn down and embittered by the harsh realities of life's experiences. Never has a portrayal of stoic politeness, in a place of sheer hell and in the face of such social horror been captured so beautifully.
The last two members of the cast, Janine Duvitski and John Salthouse play the married couple Ange and Tony. Janine Duvitski plays the socially inept Ange to perfection and her ability to play someone who is oblivious to the discomfort of others with such innocent yet awkward questions and comments is a joy to behold. It does seem to have stereotyped her into playing mousey, subservient types ever since but I bet she’s never been short of work. My favourite character though is Tony. This is a man whose brooding menace is never far from the surface, a man who knows he’s married the wrong woman, who feels constantly embarrassed by her constant twittering and her unswerving, but unwitting and seemingly unintentional ability to do or say the wrong thing. He doesn’t say much in the play, but with single words and at best muted sentences, combined with his facial expressions and glaring eyes he sums up perfectly how everyone of us has felt at some point in our lives. Impotent with barely concealed rage sums Tony up.
In my view, only The Office has ever got close to delivering that constant pull between laughter and head holding cringe-worthy moments of deep embarrassment – I wonder if Ricky Gervais would quote Abigail’s Party as an influence on his own massive success? For those who haven’t seen it I urge you to find a torrent site and download it, or buy it from Amazon (less than a fiver!). You’ll need a strong stomach and a sense of perseverance for the first 10 minutes, but the rich reward you’ll get from having witnessed such a classy piece of theatre is worth it. And just like Pulp Fiction you’ll never be short of conversation with anyone who has ever seen it. Not every post has to be a moan, and the GoGB is happy to laud and heap praise on such gems as Abigail’s Party.
Fantastic, a cheesy-pineapple one Sue?, Later Grocerjack
