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Preview by David Munro |
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NOEL Coward, like the poor, is always with us.
Yet another sacrifice on the altar of his mythos is to be offered up at the
Jermyn Street Theatre, where Sheridan Morley rattles the bones of the
old warhorse, Noel and Gertie, yet again.
You would have thought that after all these years Coward could be left in
peace and be allowed to be remembered by his works. The fact that these reveal
a very flawed genius is no reason to portray that genius, warts and all, for
the greater good of the high priests of his cult and the exasperation of those
who do not wish to worship commercially at the feet of the Idol that are very
obviously made of clay.
Coward had a great talent but one he was unable to harness. Time and time
again he let it run away with him and leave him with dust and ashes. One wonders
what, and this is idle speculation, he would have created had he had the advantage,
or the discipline, of a regular education.
The yardstick for this is, of course, Maugham. The basis of much of his work
was similar to Coward; his laughter at the social mores of his class and time
is resonant of his understanding of the underlying truth of the humours of
his wit. Coward scratched the surface of a world of which he was never really
a part and giggled at what he saw. Yet, his talent was such that one reluctantly
or otherwise cannot help but laugh with him.
Maugham moved in the world he portrayed and satirised, Coward did not. He
was, as Brahms and Simon so cogently observed, a little boy who looked into
the window of the toyshop until someone came along and gave him his wish.
One feels he himself knew that. His Diaries, when they deal with his theatrical
life, have a bitter taste as though he is forcing himself (and the reader
they were consciously written for) to accept the triviality of an unfulfilled
existence.
Only when he is writing about a situation where he is totally involved, such
as in the Middle East Diaries, does he reveal the quality that elsewhere
he failed to achieve. Like the little girl, when he was good, he was very,
very good; however, when he was bad, he was embarrassing.
Clearly, his background and upbringing never gave him the strength to stand
back and look at what he was. He wryly emphasised he had a talent to amuse
but, in fact, he had more than that; he had a talent which should have enabled
him to bestride the theatre like the colossus he was, but he turned it into
a talent of self-destruction.
The years in the wilderness would never have happened had he harbingered his
talent and not pandered to those around him who cheered the merry quip and
bolstered him up at times when he should have been allowed to stand on his
own feet.
His plays and musicals have been dissected until they are barely recognisable
but it says a lot for them that they can withstand this treatment. Had he
been content to leave the beau monde to Maugham and write about what he knew,
and basically understood, there might never have been a need for "Dad's
Renaissance".
The characters in many of his early plays are really Pooters portrayed against
a background that is totally alien to their delineated characters. Amanda
and Elyot for all their high-falutin' names and attitudes are in reality two
badly behaved yuppies, whom one can see today in any pub or disco, rather
than members of the County Set which they aspire to be.
One feels that after Design for Living he felt that himself. This
Happy Breed and Present Laughter were both grounded in the world
he knew and mentally lived in. This is also illustrated by the short stories,
which portray the experiences he had and found so basically amusing and risible.
To paraphrase, you can take the boy out of Clapham but you can never take
Clapham out of the boy - and deep down one feels he knew this and accepted
it.
Hence, his lifelong devotion and friendship with Gertrude Lawrence; they were
two of a kind both trying to live in Mayfair when in reality they were more
at home in the high street. This is why I feel one should judge him on the
legacy of his works and not try to make him the protagonist of a sophisticated
Punch and Judy show, even though one has the sneaking feeling he would have
enjoyed it enormously.
(A review of Noel and Gertie will appear in due course.)
Noel And Gertie, compiled and directed by Sheridan Morley, Musical Director
Stuart Pedlar, Choreography by Irving Davies. Presented at the Jermyn Street
Theatre, August 19 - September 7, at 8.pm NOT Sundays. Tickets 020 7287 2875.
RELATED STORIES: Click here for
Paul Nelson's preview of the same production...
