Person: Lesley Argles

R.U.R.

When idealistic young Helena Glory arrives at the remote island headquarters of Rossum’s Universal Robots (R.U.R.) with vague ideas about liberating the robots the company manufactures from their lives of enforced servitude, she is unprepared for what she finds. Overwhelmed by the almost evangelistic Harry Domain, she remains on the island, and inadvertently sews the seeds of her and mankind’s destruction…

Written by Čapek in 1920 and set at the end of the 20th Century, ‘R.U.R.’ premiered not on the stage in Prague as was originally intended, but with an amateur group in the far smaller town of Hradec Králové in January 1921. Ahead of its time in its depiction of human-like artificial beings, Čapek’s play introduced the word ‘Robot’ into the English language, derived from the Czech word ‘robota’ which means ‘forced labour’. In their creation, assembled from artificial bones, flesh and organs rather than mechanical parts, we would more likely refer to them as androids, or even (borrowing from Philip K Dick’s ‘Blade Runner’) ‘replicants’. The script was translated into English by Paul Selver later in 1921, and adapted for the stage by Nigel Playfair the following year, but it was far from faithful to the original. Many lines were cut, others added, a robot character removed entirely and his lines given to another. This version, or something similar to it, debuted in New York in October 1922 (featuring, in his Broadway debut, actor Spencer Tracy), and at St Martin’s Theatre in London in April 1923. Čapek complained that his original ending had been suppressed. It would not be until 1989 that a new unabridged translation, by Claudia Novack-Jones would actually appear,

Paul Ford’s first foray into directing also saw him tentatively try to adapt the script for a more modern audience. He started with a 1973 imported American edition of the script, by the Washington Square Press, of the Selver/Playfair adaptation and it was clear that what might have made sense in 1923 was jarring over sixty years on. (Dr Helman, practically the last man standing and desperately shoring up a barricade against the coming army of robot insurgents hears an explosion and says ‘The damned rascals, they’ve got bombs.’ with not so much as an exclamation mark to indicate shock or urgency.) Changes were made, but as the comments of the critic attest, he could have and should have been bolder in his alterations. However, the production did provide a showcase for the remarkable talents of Mark Taylor, who composed here a full original music score for the show, the first time he had done so, as well as performing on stage as Dr Gall.

The Frankenstein Monster Show

This inventive and exuberant play with music brings the Frankenstein story into the computer age. When the young American scientist Frank Enstein first arrives at the Victorian Gothic pile called Enstein Hall, he’s determined to sell the place and use the proceeds and the rest of his inheritance to fund his ambitions in computerised robotic systems. Housekeeper Mrs Body and Igor, still loyal to their dead master, are appalled and in an attempt to persuade the newcomer to change his mind, present him first with the notebook outlining the old master’s experiments, and then show him the laboratory, where lies Boris, the monster, the old master’s finest creation. Frank revives Boris, and is inspired to create more monsters, but ones guided by his own computerised control systems. Two dodgy Irish undertakers, Wille Burke and Willie Hare, and their scheming wife Lucretia Burkenhare (she’s married to both for tax purposes), make a deal with Frank, and soon have ‘raw materials’ problem sorted as they set up a production line. Business booms. But John B. Good, the family solicitor, has his suspicions about the strange goings on an Enstein Hall, and calls on Sherlock Holmes for help. Unfortunately he’s at least sixty years too late, and ends up with Sherlock Holmes Junior, a wheelchair-bound idiot. And then Dr Watson appears. No, not that one. This is Ruby Watson, and thankfully, she’s smart, (and pretty, or at least John thinks so) and now the three investigators head for the Hall to uncover the hideous goings-on and bring them to an end. If they can….

More Munster than Monster, this somewhat ramshackle script rode roughshod over just about every literary device it touched. Burke and Hare were stereotypical ‘Oirish’ idiots. Sherlock Holmes Jnr. was a pompous fool, outsmarted on every level by his companion, Watson. Even the villainous Enstein (with no explanation as to why the monster creator of old has a stately home in England) wasn’t that smart.

However, high points in the production included the donkey-jacketed Willie Hare lifting up tail-coated Willie Burke by the lapels only for them to come off in his hands, generating a profanity laden response from the wearer, and an overly extended dying sequence near to the close resulting in many of the cast, with and without guns, stepping onto the stage and shooting the actor to try and accelerate his demise… definitely not in the script.

Seafarer

‘No man will be a sailor who has contrivance enough to get himself into a jail; for being in a ship is being in jail, with the chance of being drowned…’

Samuel Johnson 1789

Liverpool, Bristol and Southampton, now sprawling, decaying cities, were once the proudest and busiest ports in the world. From their docks and wharves, the vast imperial trade of Victoria’s Britain was plied. Immeasurably powerful fleets put out from the ports of Plymouth and Portsmouth to protect and extend this trade; for Britain’s position of world supremacy was built on the cornerstone of her imperial wealth.

The responsibility for maintaining and defending this commerce rested squarely on the shoulders of Britain’s seamen, of the Merchant and Royal Navies. And yet the British seafarer suffered appalling hardship and danger. He worked a gruelling sixteen hour day for a pittance, lived in foul, cramped conditions, and was ill-nourished. He was the victim of disease and brutal discipline on board ship, and of parasites and charlatans in port.

The sailor, however, was a great favourite with the public, generally perceived as courageous, industrious and good-humoured. His tales of the sea and far distant outreaches of the Empire were enthralling, and his songs were brave and merry.

It is this contrast between the popular perception of the ‘Jolly’ Jack Tar, and the harsh reality of his existence, which we have attempted to highlight in ‘Seafarer’.

‘Seafarer’ is a completely original work based on a series of improvisations, carried out after weeks of research. The following books were particularly useful, and essential reading for anyone wishing to investigate the subject further.

Richard Garratt – ‘The British Sailor’

Paul Kennedy – ‘The Rise and Fall of British Naval Mastery’

John Winton – ‘Hurrah for the Life of a Sailor!’

All songs sung during the show are traditional, and arranged by Theatre Workshop Coulsdon.

The Thwarting of Baron Bolligrew

Written by Robert Bolt in 1966, this children’s play might sit a little awkwardly alongside his other, Oscar and BAFTA-winning, works, such as the screenplay for ‘Lawrence of Arabia’, ‘Doctor Zhivago’ and ‘A Man For All Seasons’. Regardless, it’s a well-written, engaging piece with a cracking storyline, as you would hope given its creator.

For many years the Duke and his loyal knights have been fighting dragons, rescuing damsels in distress, and trying to make their dukedom safe for its people. Now they’ve finally succeeded, the last dragons in the realm have been killed, and the Duke and most of his knights are happy to sit back and enjoy the peace they’ve made. However, their charter requires that this decision to rest on their laurels must be unanimous and one of their number, Sir Oblong Fitz Oblong, believes it’s their duty to continue their good work in the desolate and inhospitable wastelands of the North.

Sir Percival Smoothly-Smoothe has a way round the quandary. Ship Oblong off to a nearby island as a knight errant, tasked with defeating the island’s dragon and the equally nasty Jasper, the 15th Baron Bolligrew. Then, when he’s gone, have the vote and get the unanimous result they need to down tools and chill out.

After some persuasion, Sir Oblong leaves on his mission, and finds that taking on the Baron, his unintelligent but absurdly strong henchman Squire Blackheart, the malevolent wizard Doctor Moloch, and the gravel-voiced Black Dragon may be too much for just one man. He’s going to need help. Luckily, there just might be what he needs close at hand, however unlikely they may be…

The Sweeney Todd Shock N’ Roll Show

Billy and Tommy are two sailors just home from the sea. When Billy decides he needs a shave before travelling home to Susan, his girl, he unfortunately chooses the wrong barber. As does Alonzo, a travelling magician and illusionist extraordinaire. Sweeney Todd’s murderous secret is in danger though. Lured by easy money, Todd has foolishly given an apprenticeship to the young Tobias Stoutheart, and Tobias is curious. Why is there a trapdoor beneath the barber’s chair? Alonzo’s assistant, Foozle, (along with his dog, Orlando) is concerned when his master goes missing, as is Tommy, who knows the last place Billy went was Todd’s barber shop, along with a valuable string of pearls. Together, this trio of investigators might just put an end to the demon barber’s reign of terror, but the trail leads from a Gin Palace in Smithfield to a madhouse in Peckham and finally to Mrs Lovett’s cellar bakehouse for a final confrontation…

This take on the traditional Victorian melodrama is a lot sillier than most other versions. Queen Victoria is just one addition to the usual list of characters, and Mrs Lovett’s Pastriacci Mark III automated pie-making machine, not to mention a police chase involving most of the cast, are among the many opportunities for slapstick and physical theatre. The well-known storyline is still in there somewhere, but this is more ‘Carry On’ than Sondheim.

One footnote. The programme states that the part of Queen Victoria was played by Wendy Cole. Sadly, after the programme had been printed, Wendy fell ill and Paul Ford, who up to that point had been playing John Brown, HRH’s attendant, dragged up and became Queen. Like you do.

Circles

Chris Argles decided to look at the cycle of life with an ambitious collage of music, readings and dance aided by a series of projected images, from the first screams of birth through schooldays, work, first love, marriage, parenthood and the inevitable effects of aging through to the last breath and the long silence of death.

Commencing with Louis MacNiece’s ‘Prayer Before Birth’ is a far from happy or even optimistic start. Written in 1944, while the Second World War still raged, the author lays out all the pitfalls and horrors that may await this newborn, who in the poem calls out to some higher power to protect them, or else kill them.

‘The Font’, from Clive Sansom’s ‘The Cathedral’ verse sequence is used here to represent the child’s Christening, while Barry Tebb’s poem ‘School Smell’ from 1942 invokes a remembrance of schooldays past, but not a fond one, recounting memories of unlovely shell-shocked teachers and bullying. ‘Not To Sleep’ by Robert Graves is used here, seemingly, to help demonstrate the delights of first love when it is really a far more whimsical piece about the wonders of sleep and the anticipation of waking up. The musical counterpoint that followed, the Moody Blues’ ‘Nights in White Satin’, may be a little ponderous, but is imbued with more romance.

Richard Kell’s ‘The Pay Is Good’ is similarly paired with Cat Stevens’ paean to the endless and soul-less grind of the 9 to 5 office existence, ‘Matthew and Son’, where ‘…the work’s never done, there’s always something new. The files in your head, you take them to bed, you’re never ever through’. The first act is finished with a wedding, or rather an extract from beat poet Gregory Corso’s 1960 poem ‘Marriage’, whose full-length 111-line ramble over the advantages and disadvantages of the wedded state was wisely abbreviated, and as a result was much the funnier for it, leaving the audience going into the interval on welcome upbeat note.

Betjeman’s ‘The Cockney Amorist’ starts the second half’s readings, following on from Holst’s ‘Jupiter’, telling us of the old London haunts of he and his partner, forever changed now that she has left him. Clearly the marriage didn’t last long. Elton John’s instrumental piece, the heavily synthesizer-driven ‘Funeral For A Friend’ from his album ‘Goodbye Yellow Brick Road’, then leads us to ‘Old Man Asleep’ by Elizabeth Jennings, a portrait of a man who despite his loneliness, rejects an offer of companionship out of pride and subsequently waits only for a death that cannot come soon enough. John Denver’s bittersweet ‘My Sweet Lady’ follows, before the final reading of the evening, taken from the song ‘The Weaver’s Answer’, written by Roger Chapman and Charles Whitney and originally performed by their band, Family. The lyrics recount the tale of an old blind man asking the ‘weaver of life’ to show him his own story from childhood. As the tale comes closer to the present day, the man’s eyesight returns, just in time to for him to realise his death is imminent. And on that cheery note, Richard Strauss’ ‘Also sprach Zarathustra’ rings out, and the show is brought to an end.

The production is unique in that it saw the involvement of a scholarship student from the Guildhall School of Music and Drama, who had been working on a temporary basis with Chris Argles at Hertz cars. Chris enticed the then 23 year old Art Malik to assist with the choreography and other aspects of ‘Circles’, and quickly endeared himself to the cast as well as significantly improving the show. The programme shows ‘Grateful Acknowledgements to our Super Art from the Guildhall.’

The Sea

Set in 1907, The Sea depicts a small coastal village in East Anglia, sharply divided between ruthless order and rampant chaos. After a beloved resident of the village drowns in a storm at sea, the differing reactions of the villagers reveal a community torn apart by disputes and disorder. Willy Carson, the survivor of the tragic boating accident, stays in the village to grieve for his friend and finds himself entrapped within a hierarchical community presided over by the domineering Mrs. Rafi. Mrs. Rafi lives in the big house and represents order and respectability, surrounding herself with the twittering ladies of the village. Leading the official grieving, she finds herself at odds with the local draper, Hatch, who is continuously rebuffed and put out of pocket by the Grande Dame. Eccentric, or possibly even deranged, Hatch believes that aliens have infiltrated the village from another planet. He identifies Willy Carson’s sudden appearance in the village as proof of the aliens’ arrival and establishes a taskforce to spy on Willy and the wise village drunk, Evens. In a mad rage, Hatch feverishly attacks the washed up corpse of the drowned man with a knife, mistakenly believing it to be Willy sleeping on the beach. In the middle of this madness, Willy encounters Rose Jones, the fiancée of his dead companion. United in their grief, the couple begin to realize that their only hope of moving forwards is to escape from the claustrophobic community and make a life somewhere else. Evens tells Willy he will never find the answers he seeks in the village, and so Willy and Rose board a train and leave the chaos and bitterness far behind.

Edward Bond was born and educated in London. After completing his National Service with the Army (part of the occupation forces stationed in Vienna), and then various jobs, he joined the Playwright’s Workshop at the Royal Court Theatre, London, in June 1958, and his first play, ‘The Pope’s Wedding’, was staged in 1962. He has subsequently written ‘Saved’, ‘Narrow Road To The Deep North’ (presented by TWC in November 1970), ‘Early Morning’, ‘Lear’, and ‘Bingo’. His adaptation of Frank Wedekind’s play ‘Spring Awakening’ was staged by the National Theatre in May 1974 directed by Peter Hall. He has also worked on a number of film screenplays, including ‘Blow Up’, ‘Walkabout’ and ‘Nicholas and Alexandra’.

‘The Sea’ was first performed at the Royal Court Theatre on 22 May 1973, with a cast that included Ian Holm (as Hatch) Diana Quick as Rose Jones and Coral Browne as Mrs Rafi, and directed by William Gaskill. By special arrangement with the author, Theatre Workshop Coulsdon is the first amateur company to perform the play.