Clive Davis

RACHEL CORRIE IN NEW YORK

That much argued-about, pro-Palestinian monologue, My Name Is Rachel Corrie, has opened off-Broadway. The Playgoer - a big fan - has been rounding up reviews. I'd go with John Simon:

Megan Dodds enacts Rachel unaffectedly, unsentimentally and movingly under Rickman's savvy direction. There is some scenery, stage movement and dramatic lighting, but the overall effect is more a sermon than a play -- and I'm not a churchgoer.

The Village Voice wasn't impressed either:

This woman, however bright and articulate, is not the most dependable narrator. Self-described as "scattered and deviant and too loud," she's the sort of Pacific Northwest creature who can say with perfect conviction, "The salmon talked me in to a lifestyle change." Killed at 23, she was still only a budding writer and thinker; her emails from the Middle East vacillate, winningly and irritatingly, between the naive and the astute. So, consequently, does the play, resulting in a slight, though moving theatrical work

That said, I'm glad, after all the controversy, that the production has finally gone ahead. Let the audience see it, and then have an open discussion, free of hype free of cant. That's all there is to it.

ALAN BENNETT & THE BEAN-COUNTERS

Can't wait to see The History Boys (which I missed at the National).

There's a worthwhile interview with the retiring Mr B. in the latest Time Out. Here he is explaining why he doesn't write much for TV any more:

Well, I think the one decisive factor was that the guy who used to produce all the things for television, Innes Lloyd, died. Innes used to prod you into doing things, and if you had a notion of something, you could go to him and he’d set about making it possible before you’d written it. I was never aware how much wheeling and dealing had to be done. In that sense, he was an ideal producer: he never let you know that it might be quite difficult to get yourself on. But I’ve felt it since he went; the first thing they talk about is cost and all that stuff.

CURTAIN UP

If you happen to be in New York, and have a sincere loathing for Les Miz-style mega-shows, do your best to catch Gutenberg! The Musical!, the funniest send-up of Broadway since The Producers. It's a lot less lavish - just two men, a piano and an awful lot of baseball caps - but it's an absolute delight. The London run, earlier this year, was a great success, and the show opens tonight as part of the NY Musical Theatre Festival.

Before I forget - two other events to watch for in London in the weeks ahead... Lynne Arriale, my second favourite jazz pianist (after Ahmad Jamal) plays Soho from Oct 5-7. And the wildly under-rated singer-saxophonist (and ex-pop pin-up) Curtis Stigers turns on the Charlie Parker riffs and Beatles covers at Ronnie Scott's in November.

THE EMPEROR'S OLD CLOTHES

One of my grimmer experiences at the National Theatre was sitting through David Hare's press satire, Pravda, on its original run in the 1980s. It was the hottest ticket in town in those days. (I went along as an ordinary punter rather than a reviewer.) Anthony Hopkins was playing the ruthless, sub-Murdoch media baron. How the audience laughed. Only problem was, the play wasn't terribly funny. I was a lot closer to Hare's worldview than I am now. Even so I still thought it was a leaden slab of agit-prop.

Time for a revival now, and it seems the critics are less charitable:

"Pravda" isn't nearly as much fun as I'd remembered... At the time, the piece thrillingly nailed the ruthless greed-is-good attitudes of the '80s, as well as introducing a great stage villain who could trace his ancestral roots back to Richard III...

Hare and Brenton evidently had a great time writing it, and one has the impression of a couple of good friends roaring with laughter at their own jokes. But there is an unattractive atmosphere of moral superiority and self-congratulation about the piece (a familiar flaw in the plays of Hare) and the crude, cartoon-like writing becomes increasingly wearing.

My colleague Benedict Nightingale is just as harsh:

Almost every time they write about journalism itself, they display ignorance.

I look forward to seeing Hare's plodding and mightily over-rated Iraq war drama Stuff Happens get its comeuppance twenty years from now. Theatre blogger, The Playgoer (who is much more of a Hare fan, BTW) is keeping an eye on its progress in America.

IN THE DAYS OF THE BLUE PENCIL

I've just finished Almost a Gentleman, the second volume of John Osborne's scabrous memoirs. (Has anyone ever had crueller things to say about ex-wives and girlfriends? But that's another story...) In 1957, when the Lord Chamberlain's Office was still vetting plays for moral content, the playwright received this letter about his new project for Laurence Olivier, The Entertainer:

Sir, I am desired by the Lord Chamberlain to write to you regarding the above Play and to ask for an undertaking that the following alterations will be made:

1) Act I, page 11, alter "ass-upwards".

2) Page 29, alter "clappers".

3) Act II, page 25, a photograph should be submitted of the nude in Britannia's helmet,

4) Page 27, alter "pouf" [sic], twice.

5) Page 30, alter "shagged".

6) Page 36, omit "Right up to the flies. Right up."

7) Page 43, omit "rogered" (twice).

8) Page 44, omit "I always needed a jump at the end of the day - and at the beginning too usually."

And so on, and so on. A long way from the era of Shopping and Effing, no?

HAMMERSTEIN & KERN (& RODGERS)

Endured three hours-plus of Show Boat at the Albert Hall last night. Not a musical I like all that much, although I can see why it was important in its time. And you really can't get bored of hearing that number:

  There is a famous anecdote that has dogged this song. On some occasion, Mrs Kern was introduced as the wife of the composer of "Ol' Man River". Thereupon, Mrs Hammerstein arose to say that Jerome Kern wrote dum,dum, dumdum; her husband had written "Ol' Man River".

It's true - the lyricists rarely get the credit they deserve.

Lavish productions usually don't do a lot for me - Les Mis is my idea of two weeks in Room 101. Which is why I always enjoy the semi-staged Lost Musicals productions of vintage shows. They're doing Rodgers & Hammerstein's Flower Drum Song at the moment. Chinese-American immigrant life, the clash of generations... Meaty stuff, in short.

MUSICAL & THEATRICAL

Oh, the joys of interactivity... The Playgoer - who has also been live-blogging The Tonys - updates his item on the self-consciously "queer" New York production of The Threepenny Opera:

Mr. Lucy Brown himself has weighed in to set the record straight on both his vocal range (a "sopranista" not a countertenor) and Lucy's gender in the production (not drag but "pre-op transsexual").

AN UNFUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE WHITE HOUSE

After plugging the BBC's radio drama output yesterday, I discover that tonight's big play is Abrogate by M*A*S*H creator Larry Gelbart. The Radio Times licks its lips:

Believe me, Larry Gelbart's swingeing satire on the Bush administration is unmissable radio as the creator of M*A*S*H makes mincemeat of his target. Every line is a barbed swipe, a dazzling dart that hits home, using insidious humour to ridicule the already ridiculous.

Then again, the Beeb's journal never misses an opportunity to plug Fahrenheit 9/11. Let's just hope Gelbart's script is more inspired than his last cheerleading post for La Huffington.

NOISES OFF

Maybe my laptop is to blame, but I've made half a dozen failed attempts to log onto Radio 4's dramatization of Muriel Spark's Memento Mori. Will try again later. Radio plays are one of those institutions I take for granted, so I've now promised myself I'll listen to more in the evenings - one way of reviving kid-battered brain cells, and a whole lot less soporific than the British Soap Awards. ("And the award for Best Bitch goes to...")

American in London June Thomas marvels at the state of the UK's radio drama in her Slate column [scroll down a little] :

I was astonished by the big-name actors who participated—Brian Cox, Patricia Routledge, Tom Courtenay, to name just a few. What were these big stars doing on the wireless?

And she links to some American drama podcasts. Haven't tried them yet. [Via The Playgoer]

An actor friend of mine who happens to be a Sherlock Holmes buff also had good things to say about this CD of Orson Welles's Mercury Radio portrayal of the hero of Baker Street.

TO STAGE, OR NOT TO STAGE?

Should the Comédie Française cancel a play because the author, Peter Handke, holds pro-Serbian views? Theatre blogger, The Playgoer has been following the story for a few days:

My general take on those controversies - and it may apply to Handke as well - is that this is a consequence of venerating the artist over the work. In our culture of celebrity, what Handke says as a private citizen trumps whatever he does in his art.

Not sure it's quite as simple as that, but it's a perplexing story all the same.