This Network DVD release brings together three disparate stand-alone television plays by Nigel Kneale, made for ITV networks.
The Crunch, 1964, dir. Michael Elliott (ATV)
Unnatural Causes: Ladies Night, 1986, dir. Herbert Wise (Central)
Gentry, 1988, dir. Roy Battersby (Central)
Kneale may be
best known for the 1950s Quatermass
serials and his other BBC work, but he wrote a lot for ITV too – notably the
1976 anthology series Beasts and the
1979 John Mills Quatermass Conclusion
mini-series. The three television plays in this collection are a welcome
addition to Kneale’s legacy in our home collections.
Kneale’s
television work has many hallmarks: it is often challenging – both technically
and narratively. It is often uncompromising in the way it faces up to the
realities of the modern world, and the vagaries of human relationships. These
three plays are, on the whole, representative of this, but I think they show us
most tellingly how the changes to television production over the years affects
the viewer’s perception of the stories they have to tell.
The Crunch is Kneale at his uncomfortable best. A
nuclear catastrophe is threatened at a London Embassy, by an ex-British colony
seeking reparation for their island being economically and culturally raped in
the name of progress. It is dark, ponderous at times, and directed with an edge
of realism and a feeling of immediacy – shown, in particular, through the POV
external films sequences. Quatermass fans
may struggle with uniformed Anthony Bushell, who looks exactly the same here as
he did as Colonel Breen seven years previously in Quatermass and The Pit. But as a bonus you can look out for a
pre-moustachioed young Peter Bowles giving a fine turn. It’s a great play, very
much of its time and easily the gem of the set.
Then we leap
forward 22 years, and into colour.
What Ladies Night and Gentry have in common is very much a 1980s ‘sheen’. The incidental
music is upbeat, jaunty and – unfortunately - prominent in them. Glossy production
values give both plays an unwanted theatricality, so we are aware of the act of
watching TV (if that makes sense) which means the plays have to work harder to
suck us in to their world, and the audience has to work harder to see through
the veneer. They both look and feel like episodes of Only Fools and Horses, frankly. But beneath that the scripts are still
sharp, still insightful.
Fiona Walker
steals the show in Ladies Night,
although Nigel Stock is always immensely watchable. Alfred Burke’s old
misogynist, Colonel Waley (who reportedly saved Herman Goering’s life as a
matter of honour), doesn’t want ladies in his gentleman’s club, but is a little
two dimensional, a little too one-note, to be truly believable. And,
unfortunately, Kneale’s work always relies very much on the audience believing
in all the characters they meet as real people.
Ladies Night is The
Worm That Turned meets Love Thy
Neighbour, building to a punchline that shouldn’t surprise the audience and
only exasperates the old Colonel. Yes, it’s clearly a satire, an exaggeration of
the old Gentleman’s Club world as its outmoded ethos struggles to attract new
membership in a society that no longer values the kind of hunting,
empire-building, chivalrous old gent of yesteryear. But the overt staginess of
the production, drawing attention to itself as ‘television’, means the satire
falls flat.
Gentry is also a satire, this time on 1980s society and materialism,
as the loss of community values and social consciousness creates starker gaps
between classes and ideologies. This is personified by Gerald, Duncan Preston’s
conservative, unscrupulous – but perhaps not unscrupulous enough – lawyer, versus Susannah, his wife with her decent,
socialist values, both of whom are then posed against the desperate lower /
rougher end of society in Roger Daltry’s thief, Colin, and his accomplices.
I’d argue that
Duncan Preston is miscast. He did a lot of good work with Victoria Wood, and he
certainly looks the part, but in a drama like this he’s just a caricature - you
can see him acting a lot of the time,
whereas by contrast most of the others sell themselves as real characters. Phoebe Nicholls, Michael Attwell and Roger Daltry are
all excellent and totally inhabit their rolls. But here again the unsubtle
theatricality of the look and feel of the play means that the satire falls flat.
I couldn’t help
getting a sense of these 1980s pieces being like ‘A’-Level theatre studies
devised pieces, or dark adaptations of old Whitehall farces, with their limited
settings and clear two-act structures – particularly in Gentry where the play works around the arrival or revelation of certain
characters. I very much wanted these plays to take a bolder step into discomfort
at times – Michael Attwell and Roger Daltry come closest - just to set them at
a remove from the comparison.
I didn’t
dislike Ladies Night and Gentry and they’re definitely worth
another viewing, but I wanted to like them more than I did. Their glossy ‘80s
sheen serves to undermine their dramatic impact. It suggests cosy drama rather
than gritty realism. Tastes change, I know, but personally I consider that a
piece like The Crunch stands the test
of time far better than these latter two.
