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Stars explained: * A production of no real merit
with failings in all areas. ** A production showing evidence of not
enough time or effort, or even talent, and which never breathes any real
life into the piece – or a show lumbered with a terrible script. *** A
good enjoyable show which might have some small flaws but has largely
achieved what it set out to do.**** An excellent show which shows a
great deal of work and stage craft with no noticeable or major
flaws.***** A four star show which has found that extra bit of magic
which lifts theatre to another plane. |
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Moving tale of war and grief
My Boy Jack Hall Green Little Theatre **** RUDYARD Kipling was a product of his
time. Born in colonial India, steeped in imperialism and empire and
dedicated to doing one's duty whatever the cost “for Harry, England and
St George”. David Haig's celebrated play examines just one
incident in Kipling's life – the death of his son John, my boy Jack. Jon Richardson gives us a quietly infuriating
Kipling, always in control, always right and with a clear, defined path
before him – he even lays out the route for other people, including his
son John. Only once does he explode into anything showing human emotion
or even doubt in what is a fine, wholly believable performance. James Kay is the teenage John, 15 when we first
encounter him, who is being stifled by his quite yet overbearing,
dogmatic father. He is being told to wear pince-nez instead of
spectacles to impress the Army Medical Board, despite their refusal to
stay on, and he is being coached in his patriotic answers for the
interview. His frustration spills out when he is alone with
his older sister Elsie, played by Samantha Holden who grows splendidly
from girlish charm to womanhood during the course of the play. John is happy to join the army not for King and
country, or any higher ideal, but just to get away from the crushing
controlled life at their house, Batemans, in East Sussex. John's eyesight is bad enough for him to rival Mr
Magoo and he is turned down first by the navy and three times by army
medical boards. Most fathers would be delighted that their son was
legitimately saved from the slaughter of the trenches – but not Kipling. His dedication to duty, to doing the right thing
means he uses his contacts, a dying Lord Roberts, to find his son a
place in his regiment – so at just 18, the hopelessly myopic Second
Lieutenant John Kipling of the Irish Guards is shipped out to the front
and two weeks later at the Battle of Loos he is dead. Kay shows us the schoolboy bullied into
unwavering patriotism by Kipling who wants to mould his son into an
impossible ideal, the boy turns into the soldier, complete with
moustache, then finally back to the boy again in a moving speech to
himself about not letting anyone down as he prepares to go over the top
to his death.
The telegram, which Kipling didn't even bother to
read straight away, says John is missing believed wounded which is
enough for the gloves to come off as Kipling's American wife Carrie and
Elsie accuse him of killing John, with Elsie telling her parents why he
had really gone away – to get away from them. Without a body or confirmation Carrie,
beautifully played with a quiet dignity by Zofja Zolna, spends two years
with her husband interviewing Irish guards to find out what
happened to their son. She is desperate for him to be still alive but
that hope dies when Guardsman Bowe, shell shocked , battle fatigued and
nerves shot, finally arrives and tells them the awful truth in a moving
and poignant scene. It is a truth which for the first time finds a
chink in Kipling's stiff upper lip façade of certainty, a realisation
that perhaps, maybe, there could just have been a slight possibility
that he was wrong, that he might be responsible for his son's death.
Almost doubt Carrie and Elsie leave him in no doubt who is to
blame though and Kipling's earlier claim that if Jack were to be “it
would be the finest moment of his young life“ seemed even more empty. Life moves on though, Elsie gets married and as
Kipling comes towards the end of his life, he died in 1936, Hitler
rises to power in Germany and the whole cycle towards destruction
is set in motion again leaving Kipling to question what it was all for,
the play ending as he reads his poem – My Boy Jack. Connor Grant, as Bowe, is in his first stage role
outside of school or college, not that you would ever have known it, and
he had the added excitement of having to step up to this pivotal part
from being Guardsman McHugh just three weeks ago when the original Bowe
went sick. He looks as if he could well have an acting future ahead of
him. Full marks as well to Sami Moghraby who played a complete one man army from Col Pottle at the Army Medical Board to his added role of McHugh, stepping in nobly to fill the gap in the ranks. There were solid contributions to from Simon Dyke
as Major Sparks and Bowe's friend Mr Frankland and Tim Wright as
Guardsman Doyle as well as a clever set from Jean Wilde which served as
both a drawing room and trenches on the Western Front – a conversion
being carried out with military precision by a stage crew in uniform We are kept up to date with what, where and when
each scene is set with a back projection system, a useful device also
used to good effect in The Glass Menagerie and The Blue
Room. Christine Bland's sensitive direction cleverly
also used stage crew dressed as maids and servants to change the drawing
room scenes – and flowers - as days and years pass but one hopes that
the changes do become quicker as the week goes on. This is a gripping, engaging play, beautifully
acted but does not have a great deal of action or natural pace so long
pauses between scenes with empty stages are not really its friends. That being said it is a well acted, moving piece
in the intimate confines of the studio about the effects of war and
patriotism on one family with Kipling prepared to sacrifice anything,
even his own son, in the name of empire and duty. My Boy Jack
lasts two and a half hours but all credit to the cast, it didn't seem
anywhere near that long. Roger Clarke |
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