Kent Bares His Sole
I really do hope that the forthcoming season at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket, is a resounding success because the artistic director, Jonathan Kent, may have to buy some new shoes quite soon.
In today’s Telegraph interview, Kent is snapped glaring seriously from a theatre box with his left leg cocked on a gilded balcony to reveal his sole coming away from the body of his left loafer. It is a nice “poor theatre” touch in the context of London’s most gloriously baroque theatre venue.
More…Kent’s opening salvo is Wycherley’s The Country Wife, one of the filthiest plays ever written, and he follows up next year with Edward Bond’s The Sea, a piece whose last revival at the National Theatre by Sam Mendes prompted a truly epic outpouring of anti-establishment bile by the author himself. Perhaps Kent is anxious to offset the possibility of Bond’s scorn by dressing down to show his contempt for the Haymarket’s grandeur in advance of the opening, thereby appeasing Bond’s Marxist surliness.
Kent’s third production in the spring will be the musical Marguerite by the Les Miserables composers which rather scuppers his intention to redress the balance of musicals and straight plays in the West End. Ah, but Marguerite is OK, apparently, because “it’s a high romantic soaring musical – different from any I know at the moment.”
Phew, that’s a relief. Is there no end to this cant and hypocrisy about the West End and its musicals? The audience, meanwhile, goes happily about its business. I popped in last night to the second act of All About My Mother at the Old Vic in preparation for chairing a Q and A session after the show. The punters were rapt and involved, and about two hundred of them stayed on afterwards – until 11pm – to be entertained by cast members Mark Gatiss, Charlotte Randle and Colin Morgan.
People who go to the theatre and make a decision to see Bad Girls – The Musical, or We Will Rock You, or All About My Mother, are not as contemptible as most theatre practitioners themselves think. They don’t usually make the generic, pecking order distinctions between types of shows such as plays and musicals (though I admit there are many people, as there are many critics, who boastfully proclaim, with the full force of inbred snobbery and ignorance, that “I don’t like musicals”).
The more serious question to be asked these days is, do people want to see a Restoration comedy in the West End, or would they expect and prefer to see one at the National Theatre? I like to think they would see such a comedy in either place. I sincerely hope so, anyway, otherwise Jonathan will be going barefoot before Christmas.