Plague Over England
Duchess Theatre, London
CRITICS know best, don’t they? From those reviews I read of Plague Over England at the Finborough Theatre last year, it seemed writer Nicholas de Jongh had managed a success. I don’t normally read so many reviews, but as de Jongh is a critic not known for pulling his punches, I was curious to read how he fared as gamekeeper.
More importantly, the story of John Gielgud arrested in 1953 for cottaging in a London lavatory seemed such a promising vehicle to show how the law threatened and/or destroyed the lives of thousands of gay men in the post-war years.
Why, then, did I leave the theatre feeling badly disappointed?
There are certainly good moments, such as when a young police constable is instructed in how to act as “pretty boy” bait and when Gielgud is in trouble for calling for Binkie Beaumont, a leading theatre impresario, also gay and a man who has done well out of the actor. The first half ends with what Gielgud does best – a poignant speech from Shakespeare’s Richard II when he makes the decision to “lose the name of king”.
There is also a superb recreation of a plush London lavatory, complete with a couple of urinals. What seems to be missing, however, is any proper structure. We know – from the blurb, if nowhere else – that Gielgud is going to be arrested. So why waste so much time in building up to it? And I mean waste. Instead of building a more complex character for Gielgud, we are given short scenes telling us how bad the early 1950s were for homosexual men.
But the audience surely knew all that beforehand and that the powers that be saw homosexuality as an abominable vice. Jail sentences were routinely handed out for anyone caught in the act. It is also common knowledge that, in their zeal, the police resorted to dubious tactics to get convictions. The purpose of all these short scenes seems more to justify the play’s title – the plague over England – than to accomplish anything dramatically. When dramatic opportunities do present themselves, somehow they are lost. Binkie Beaumont is reluctant to help – the possible potential loss of money is his motive, rather than any need to conceal he is gay, too. Gielgud makes a successful return to the stage, but then panics when considering his future. His despair quickly becomes contentment, though. So is this not important? Is it just a queenie actor having a queenie crisis?
While the opponents of homosexuality come across as bigoted caricatures, what are we supposed to make of the gay men? One wants to be monogamous, but the man he meets needs to play around. One is a young toff who gets a bit of rough, but the rough turns jealous when the toff goes off to university. So? Gielgud’s return to the stage should have been the climax. But there is still a half an hour or so to go. This consists of one long coda, moving forward to the 1970s (and backwards again), in the process muddying the waters as to what the play is really about. Something to do with not seizing the moment when it arises, perhaps?
I couldn’t help thinking of how this played at the Finborough. For a start, the audience would have been nearer to the actors.
Has a significant intimacy been lost by transferring to a larger theatre? Yet that was a year ago. Did no one pick up on how many weaknesses there are? I simply don’t understand.
Richard Woulfe
