Person: Bruce Montgomery

Dick Barton – Special Agent

The star of the BBC’s first daily radio serial, private investigator and sometime Special Agent, Dick Barton appeared in in 711 episodes between 1946 and 1951 – the brainchild of BBC producer Norman Collins, who had of a visions of a ‘cloak and dagger soap opera’ broadcast every evening.

With his two sidekicks Jock and Snowy, Dick managed to get into some pretty tight scrapes – much to the delight of the listening audience but to the murmurings of stern disapproval from various clergymen of the day. Which seems strange, especially in hindsight, given that Dick’s adventures and last-moment escapes from deadly danger were all written and performed in accordance with a very strict code of conduct. No drinking, no swearing, no violence other than a good clean ‘sock to the jaw’ and even then only if evenly matched or outnumbered. Definitely no girlfriends or romantic associations, and no lying. If Dick needs to give chase to a fleeing villain in a conveniently available car, he must first ask the owner’s permission. No themes of horror should be used either, so no ghosts, vampires, other supernatural creatures or gorillas. (Yes, specifically no gorillas). It’s a wonder Dick managed anything more exciting than a trip to the shops.

Despite all this the show was a huge success, with, at its peak, 15 million listeners tuning in at 6.45pm each evening for 15 minutes of derring-do. The fast-paced, free wheeling adventures were just what post-war Britain was waiting for, and one-time commando Capt. Richard Barton MC was the hero of the hour. Or quarter of an hour, to be precise. However, the BBC were uncomfortable with their sensationalist success story, and when a new programme successfully debuted in a late morning slot in 1951, an everyday tale of life in a rural community, they quickly moved to replace the Special Agent with it. So for all the arch-foes and villains that Barton confronted, he was eventually killed off by ‘The Archers’.

An ill-fated attempt to bring back Barton to television in 1979 seemed to draw a far from discreet veil over any new adventures, but in 1998, Phil Wilmott wrote the musical ‘Dick Barton, Episode One – Special Agent’, part homage, part spoof, and with music from Stefan Bednarczyk, it was a roaring success when it debuted at the Croydon’s Warehouse Theatre, going on to tour Britain over the next couple of years. Since then there have been five sequels, the first two penned by Wilmott and then Duncan Wisbey took the reins

And now, it’s our turn to take on the mac and trilby of upright and uptight British manliness. Warning. The code of conduct will be disobeyed frequently.

During one of the Sunday set-building sessions for ‘Dick Barton’, Julian Cooper, who had been a well-liked part of the group in a backstage capacity for a number of years, suffered a sudden massive heart attack. Despite the efforts of both TWC members and ambulance crew to resuscitate him, Julian was pronounced dead on arrival at Mayday Hospital in Croydon. He was just 43. The play was dedicated to his memory.

Kidnapped At Christmas

Christmas Eve. And banged up again are the gormless Crosby and Gilbert, two life-long criminals who are bemoaning their fate in the nick. Tomorrow will be the regulation prison Christmas dinner, greasy chicken, clammy sprouts and lumpy potatoes. The thought is too much to bear, they must escape! And with the aid of the audience, a spider and some not very bright prison warders, escape they do.

However, that’s just the start of their adventures. When they break into a house to escape the awful weather, they think they’ve lucked in, but actually it’s the home of Detective Constable Grummett, the man who’s been tasked with recapturing them. Worse, Grummett’s son Alexander is there and he’s not frightened of them one bit. Even worser, he’s got a gun. Worstest yet, when the lights go out suddenly, young Alex has been kidnapped, and guess who are the prime suspects?

A fast-paced and silly family entertainment with bucketloads of broken fourth wall and audience participation, follow Crosby and Gilbert’s misadventures as they become Olympic athletes, take on the horror of Frankenstein’s monster and even solve a crime! Yes, really!

And do they get a decent Christmas dinner? That would be telling.

The Hunchback Of Notre Dame – The Panto

 

‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’ was originally a novel by celebrated French writer Victor Hugo, first published in 1831. Set in 15th Century Paris, it centres on the unrequited love that Quasimodo, the deformed bell-ringer of the famous cathedral, has for Esmerelda, a beautiful Romani dancer. Sadly, she only has eyes for the handsome captain Phoebus of the King’s archers, but unknown to the young girl, Phoebus is vain, untrustworthy and a womanizer. Esmeralda’s beauty has also attracted two other men, a poet, Gringoire, and the darkly motivated arch-deacon of Notre Dame Cathedral, Claude Frollo, who is also Quasimodo’s guardian. It’s an epic tale of misplaced love, exploring themes on social marginalisation and even the power of architecture, and ends in tragedy. So, absolutely perfect for a TWC panto then!

With the addition of broker’s men Ratatouille and Cassoulet, not to mention the uproarious Frottez LaToilette well and truly putting the Dame into Madame, this is great French literature as you’ve never seen it before! (let’s not even talk about the Disney cartoon, eh?) Oh, and the goat? Jingli Jangli? Not Mr Lloyd’s invention. Victor Hugo gave us Djali the goat (we changed the name to protect the innocent) on whom Gringoire becomes oddly fixated, with tragic results. Ah, the French. Qu’est-ce que c’est?

 

Jack The Ripper (2006)

Is it lazy to return to a play that you’ve staged before?

Or maybe – like revisiting a favourite book or film – there’s more to be explored and enjoyed a second, or even third time around?

Theatre Workshop Coulsdon first staged Ron Pember and Denis De Marne’s ‘Jack the Ripper’ back in 1983. We went back to it just eight years later in 1991. Cumulatively, we’ve probably paid enough in licencing fees to send the two authors on a good long holiday. Many of the 1991 cast are performing again is this production. Three of the 1983 cast are here too, young theatre pups now turned grizzled stage veterans. Richard Lloyd has played the ruffian Daniel Mendoza in all three!

So why do we keep coming back? Frankly, because it’s an exhilarating show to be a part of. It’s got great songs, songs you remember and hum along to, or even sing out loud, long after the final curtain has dropped. Mainly though, it’s just a very TWC kind of show. It’s brash, irreverent and a little (little?) over the top. It feels as if it were written for us.
 
When we first put ‘Jack the Ripper’ on, it was considered an obscure and somewhat controversial choice. Since then, it’s become something of regular staple on the amateur theatre circuit, but we haven’t let that put us off. This show was meant to treated in the rough and ready manner of the seedy East End it portrays, not with the polite diffidence of a well-trained light-operatic group. It’s rumbustiuous, down and dirty, leaning into the coarser side of the music hall tradition. We’ve seen others take this on, and when they’ve treated it as a finely sung choral piece, it loses its heart, and almost inevitably falls flat.
 
Of course, the subject matter might not be to everyone’s taste. Making a musical out of history’s most notorious serial-killer must count as an act of potentially dubious taste, even after well over a century. The original West End run of the show was cruelly short, perhaps for that very reason. And yet the mystery and murders of Jack the Ripper remain very much part of the cultural psyche of Britain, and probably further afield. Fresh films, documentaries, TV series, radio dramas appear on a regular basis. The hunger for ‘Jack’ is insatiable, or so it seems. The criminal, who most claim was never caught, has moved from simple mystery to almost the stuff of legend.
 
So, tonight, step in to the Steam Packet Music Hall and be hideously entertained. But watch your step on the way home, alright?

Dr Ho

It’s Bond. James Bond. But you’ve never seen him like this.

Britain’s finest, and most well-known, spy has encountered threats over the years that have endangered his life, his country and even the world, but now someone is placing Christmas itself in peril! Plucked from the night skies, Santa Claus has been kidnapped and here’s only one man who can possibly find him in time before the world’s children open their eyes on Christmas morning, and find… nothing! But will a fondness for fast cars, faster women, a particular martini and a licence to kill be enough?

Mark Taylor draws on 007’s significant rogue gallery to populate this panto with vile villains galore and their perfectly hissable henchmen. Dr Ho. Ernst Stavro Blowave. Bob-a-Job. Rosa Widdecombe. Jaws. (‘What’s Jaws?’ ‘Thank you, mine’s a pint.’) However, this time around, Bond isn’t working solo. Enter Ada Bagwash, MI5’s cleaner. Is she really what she appears? Or is she a deep-cover intelligence operative with the tactical nous of a bagful of generals and the combat potential of a Gorilla with a machine gun? Sad to say, she’s just a cleaner, but what she lacks in intelligence… let’s just leave it there. Throw in a casino, an atomic reactor and a couple of women with unlikely and sexually provocative names, not to mention the all-singing Bondettes and their backing band, and you have a pantomime to live and let die for.

Mission briefing over, report to Q Branch to pick up your tickets now.

The Merry Wives of Windsor

‘The Merry Wives of Windsor’ is one of Shakespeare’s more unusual comedies. No strange land for this one for a start. No far-flung Illyria, exotic Messina or Syracuse, but instead the action centres round The Garter Inn in Windsor. A real place no less, and one that stands to this day. Similarly, the Princes, Dukes and sundry other nobles that inhabit so many of his tales are notable by their complete absence, replaced by the title-less and newly prosperous middle classes. The only knight of the realm that features is the rascally, roguish Sir John Falstaff, a knave who sets out with poor intentions to fool the good wives of Windsor out of money, but fails spectacularly at every turn.

It is said that the character of Falstaff was one that Queen Elizabeth herself was most fond of. He appeared first in Henry IV Part One, and again in Henry IV Part Two, a portly, aging disreputable sot, too fond of his drink and of cheap women, forever lacking in funds. Quick to borrow, never to repay, and cowardly to boot, Falstaff does retain a certain charm and zest for life, and it’s this, for a time, that endears him to Prince Hal. However, when the prince becomes the King, all his former life is left behind, including Falstaff. In Henry V, Mistress Quickly delivers a eulogy outlining the circumstances of his death, and there, one might suppose, was the end of him. If a queen commands though, a humble playwright must write, and so, two years after his death, Sir John Falstaff lived again.

So ‘The Merry Wives…’ is what we would call today a ‘prequel’. Reunited with his low-life comrades, Pistol, Nym and Bardolph (the latter two also dying in Henry V, executed for looting), Falstaff unknowingly engages in a battle of wits with Mistress Page and Mistress Ford and finds himself distinctly unarmed, or at least badly under-gunned. Unlike the bittersweet nature of his antics in the histories though, these adventures are purely comedy, descending almost into farce. It dispenses with the oft-used conventions of romantic comedy, such as the mistaken identity, the flirtatious wordplay, the lovesick entanglements, and replaces them with Falstaff, the aging would-be suitor and lothario (supremely lacking in self-awareness) falling for the tricks being being played on him. In parallel, middle-aged, middle-class Francis Ford, consumed with ill-founded jealousy, repeatedly makes a fool of himself while attempting to prove, vainly, his wife an adulterer.

It’s funny, but this, undoubtedly the most original of Shakespeare’s works, drawing on no ancient text or foreign translation, is looked down upon by numerous scholars of the Bard. They seem to forget that the texts weren’t designed to be pored over, dissected and examined by fusty literary experts. It was created to have life on the stage, uproarious, physical life as popular entertainment.

And that is what you have before you. Enjoy.

Zenobia

AD 268. The once mighty Roman Empire now lies in chaos. Corrupted from within, its borders besieged, the Empire could be be overthrown by one man… or one woman. Zenobia, the upstart warrior Queen of Palmyra, seizes her chance to change history forever, and moves her forces into battle with the legions of Aurelian, an Emperor seeing his grip on the Eastern end of the Mediterranean slip. However, Zenobia’s son and heir, Wahballat, has no desire to become King, and spends his time engaged in strange alchemical experiments with Porphyry, a philosophy student with a secret.

A story of love, adventure, ambition and their costs during of the decline of the Roman Empire.

Written by Nick Dear and first performed at The Young Vic in 1995 by the Royal Shakespeare Company, Zenobia is a story of love and adventure, death and betrayal. Seeded heavily with dark humour, this tale is based on historical fact, but its use of modern language makes it easily accessible and is in turn dramatic, moving and funny.

This the first ever amateur production of Zenobia.

Raiders Of The Lost Shark

An unashamed tribute / spoof / homage of the Indiana Jones’ movies that made the 1980s such fun, Richard Lloyd’s comedy adventure draws most heavily on the second of the series, ‘Indiana Jones and Temple of Doom’ (1984). (the first chronologically, being a prequel, set a year before ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’). Although the inevitable Nazi villains are still in the mix (they are so irredeemably bad and easy to dislike), the far Eastern settings, ranging from India to the South China Sea, plus the inclusion of a young Chinese sidekick and a plucky cabaret singer, have clear parallels with the follow-up film.

But if Harrison Ford was only the second choice to play our favourite adventuring archaeologist, behind Tom Selleck, there was only one choice for us. Neil Grew, who had at that time cornered the market (at TWC) in somewhat knowing heroic leading-man characters (He played Robin Hood in 1993, and would go on to play James Bond in 2004). His donning of the trademark (Lucasfilm, that is) battered fedora, leather jacket and bullwhip was pretty obvious casting.

So, beware of the deadly traps, look out for the evil villains and the deliciously duplicitous femme fatales, jump in the seaplane and head due east for excitement and laughter, as Alabama, Frenchy and Hoi-Sin go in search for the fabled Jewel of Munkipore!

Much Ado About Nothing

‘Much Ado About Nothing’ is a comedy of love nearly thwarted by villainy, and tragedy narrowly averted. It is held by many to be one of the most verbally dextrous of Shakespeare’s works, and the dialogue fairly sparkles with witty repartee, chiefly from Benedick and Beatrice, two of his most compelling and human creations.

The setting is a Sicily at war. Don Pedro, the Prince of Aragon, returns from the fighting, with his entourage, to stay with his old friend Leonato, the Governor of Messina.

While there, Claudio, a member of Don Pedro’s retinue, quickly falls in love with Leonato’s daughter, Hero. It’s a cause for much celebration, in most parts. However, Don John, Don Pedro’s bastard brother, sees only a chance to sew discord, and with the help of his two henchmen, Conrade and Borachio, they plot to break up the loving pair and ruin Hero’s reputation..

Elsewhere, another scheme is put into place, but his time it’s with chiefly good intentions. Benedick, a good comrade to Don Pedro, and Beatrice, Leonato’s niece, have known each other for some time. They trade insults, they verbally spar whenever they are together. All but they can see the spark of something special between them. And so the plan is hatched by Don Pedro to push the warring duo away from conflict and into loving reconciliation, getting the two to see each other as others see them. 

When all is said and done both couples find themselves together, but not before they run a gauntlet of lies and confusion, flirting with each other and disaster.

‘Much Ado About Nothing’ is undoubtedly one of Shakespeare’s finer plays, possibly his best comedy, edged only by ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’. Much of it though, if you look hard enough, makes no sense. Don Pedro is a Spanish warlord, with two of his closest companions coming from rival Italian city states, Padua and Florence. For no explained reason, they’re fighting in Sicily. Leonato at least sounds Italian, but Beatrice and Hero, not to mention servants Margaret and Ursula, don’t. And the whole of the watch, Dogberry, Verges, Hugh Oatcake etc. have clearly been parachuted in from England. Best not to dwell on it.

Talking of which, TWC has edited the Bard’s script. I know, how dare we! Well, if it was good enough for Kenneth Branagh in his 1992 film adaptation, it’s good enough for us. Really, it had to be done. A lot, and we mean a lot, of references to cuckolds and horns needed to go, and there are only so many allusions to obscure classical mythology any audience can take. And cast for that matter.

So, sit back and relax. Be taken to an island in the Mediterranean, and treated to some of Shakespeare’s finest prose. And maybe a pint or two…