It wasn't a mugging, drive-by shooting or session of sheep rustling committed under the noses of tourists in Whitby's ageing, but still premiere theatre location, rather it was a (version of) "Theft," which according to the flyers was "a comedy thriller by Eric Chappell." Having low expectations, but still hoping for a good night out all Lawrences joined the small gaggle of grey-haired, sensible-shoe-wearing theatre lovers and, after a struggle to pay with my Malaysian debit card, succeeded in lowering the average age of the audience by at least twenty. Still undaunted, remember I have watched some terrible plays in KL, we sat and waited for the opening exchanges to experience the advertised thrills and hoot at the promised gags.
House lights went down. The curtains opened. The stage lights went up to reveal a run-down, dowdy-looking, front -room set with newspaper strewn around the place and a few cheap and nasty looking paintings placed on the walls at jaunty angles. Just before I had time to look at the poor quality artwork in more detail a thin man wearing a grey suit, cheap nylon tie and sporting the most bizarre of ponytail and side-burn combinations was thrust into the space, holding a golf club above his head and failed to look cross. He paused momentarily before asking with almost no animation in his voice "Is he still here?" It was the entrance of Trevor. He held the wretched golf club above his head a little longer and next John came in, badly dressed in a cheap evening suit and looking exactly like a chemistry teacher on his day off. Between them they managed to remind each other of their names (ten times) while helpfully explaining to the audience that they were best friends before noticing the screwed-up pieces of newspaper, apparently a sign of being burgled, something the gentleman who burgled our house forgot to do. The actors paused a bit more so that Jenny could arrive, wearing the best dress that she could find at the back of her wardrobe, before she too deduced the apparently obvious from the newspaper. She was soon revealed, thanks to lots of names checks and pauses between lines, to be Trevor's wife, which meant we only needed John's lady, Barbara, to appear and the show could really start. She needed quite a bit of introducing so we had to be told, in between pauses, that she was that evening's designated driver as the other three had been drinking (the audience would never have guessed it given the way they all stood either stock-still or wandered aimlessly around their dreary surroundings and chatted freely) but the naughty Barbara had guzzled the grape with a passion and so they had all had to walk home across open countryside from wherever they had been and arrive in looking immaculate in their charity shop best. Finally Barbara swayed in, slurred one word in four, successfully executed a well-practised semi-swerve near the drinks table (why hadn't those bottles been stolen?) and the play could really start.
Oh and then the burglar had to come in too and spend the next two hours trying to be a cross between the police officers in Loot and An Inspector Calls while using an accent that had it roots somewhere in both East London and Dudley and revealing the innermost secrets of the happy couples on show.
As the play went on we had explained to us that John had become a millionaire thanks to a share issue, John and Trevor played tennis, and John had fancied Jenny years ago because she wore white ankle socks. And thank goodness this was explained to us as without such detailed and heavily paused pronouncements we would
never have known as there were no clues given through the acting. John appeared furious throughout, Trevor's holding of the golf club did not suggest that he could do any better with a tennis racket, and John was neither pervy not flirtatious while Jenny appeared indifferent to the man, despite us later being told that she and John had been having an affair for years. Barbara did manage a little spark of emotion when telling John that she didn't particularly like his Little John but Big John just carried on being furious. Was that all because of Little John?
To be generous it was an amateur company doing the play (we did pay a non-amateur total of £37 for our five tickets though) but both the play and the playing of it were riddled with elementary errors that could very easily have been stamped or directed out of the performance. The script itself needed at least thirty minutes taking out of it and did not need to explain every single moment of each character's life to the patient audience. More time could have been saved by the actors picking up
their lines immediately rather than savouring each unnecessary dramatic pause. These pauses got even more annoying when the play tried to introduce a note of raciness revealing the details of Jenny and John's affair. But any whiff of scandal was snubbed out as the actors delayed just too long before answering back during what were meant to be arguments.
The play ended eventually and both the actors and audience appeared relieved.
Earlier in the day Edwin and Rupert created their own drama while washing up the breakfast things. For a reason known only to him Rupert thought that it would be a good idea toslap Edwin's bottom with a tea towel instead of drying up. He then thought it would be an even better idea to turn the lights off in the pot-wash room and use the towel in a similar way. Surprise surprise a mug got dropped on the floor and smashed. How did I know all this? I was next door sitting in the smallest room, powdering my nose at the time, pretending that the boys were nothing to do with me. That pretence came to an end as two boys came round to my quiet zone complaining bitterly about their lot and how it was all the other one's fault. Through locked door I managed calm them down and got Edwin and then Rupert to agree to work co-operatively once more. Edwin said "Ok Daddy" and just as Rupert said his he somehow managed to start to hand-dryer off, the timing of which made all three of us fall about giggling.
If only tonight's "comedy thriller" had been just as funny.