The Paul Berna Challenge – The Secret of the Missing Boat (1966)

In which Berna takes us to a quiet corner of Britanny, near Vannes, and introduces us to intrepid young sailor Fanch and his friend Lise. Fanch is inseparable from his little fishing boat, the Petit-Emile, which he has recently upgraded with a sail, a mast and a larger hull all gathered from jetsam and with the agreement of the Receiver of Wreck, Monsieur Riou, in Langle. But the authorities seem much more interested in the Petit-Emile than one might expect – what secret does the little boat have that demands so much of their attention?

Unusually, The Secret of the Missing Boat was first published in 1966 in English by The Bodley Head, and then in French in 1969 by G. P. Rouge et Or under its original French title L’Épave de la Bérénice, which translates literally as The Wreck of the Berenice, with illustrations by Barry Wilkinson, who had also illustrated The Mystery of the Cross-Eyed Man and Gaby and the New Money Fraud. The Secret of the Missing Boat was translated, as usual, by John Buchanan-Brown. My own copy of the book is a 1972 reprint of the Puffin edition. There are a few copies currently on sale online if you want to buy one!

Berna’s Parisian cityscape that dominated his last few books is here replaced by a maritime environment, an island-dotted bay in Brittany, where boats replace cars and old rural methods haven’t been replaced by modern development.  Where, in the past, he has given us a map of Puisay, here he provides a map of the coast and all the islands. It’s fun to make a comparison with a real map of the area as it’s largely faithful and accurate, which helps the reader to become more closely associated with the district; all apart from the inclusion of Ile-Goulvan, Ile-Hervé, Cow Island and La Teigne, and some playing with the area around the Seven Marshes.

Berna has left his usual descriptions of gangs behind, in favour for concentrating on his two main children characters, both of whom lead remote, solitary lives. Fanch and Lise’s competence in criss-crossing between islands on all sorts of simple boats lends an air of adventure and excitement, mixed with a sense of idyllic, quiet, leisurely childhood. But there’s nothing leisurely about their lives; they work all hours, frequently heavy, physical labour, often getting up before dawn and going to bed early, exhausted. They’re children, but with adult responsibilities. In a typically male oriented world, Fanch makes sure he neverthless has as much fun as possible; Lise is given the role of being sensible and responsible. So whilst Fanch and Cogan go off to have an adventure on the restored dinghy, for example, Lise makes do with basic seaman skills, such as untangling the lines and drying out the old vessel.

There’s a strong contrast between the two younger characters and everyone else in the story. Fanch and Lise are the only two children, and the adults in their lives all represent various levels of discipline, instruction or enforcement. Fanch needs to keep his distance from Blackbeard, his teacher, otherwise he’ll get into trouble for not going to school. He also gets into trouble with the likes of Tanguy and Stephani, and Benny, Pat and Fredo. He loves Mamm and Uncle Job, but they are strong believers in discipline and Mamm completely rules the roost – what she says, goes, and no arguing. Even M. Jégo constantly tells Fanch what he must do, as he works for the Jégo family as well as his own. It’s only when Fanch comes to terms with Blackbeard – M. Cogan – that they can work together and become friends. And there’s a consequent enjoyable relationship with the two adult camping travellers, Manoel and Picou. This is not the first time Berna has used a teacher who is remote or aloof and then brings them into a heroic role – this also happens in Flood Warning.

But it’s not just a one-way relationship between Cogan and the children. By getting involved in the children’s exploits, Cogan rediscovers his own inner child and gets an enormous escapist pleasure from accompanying them on their exploits, and even living temporarily on Ile-Goulvan courtesy of Mamm. In addition to the parallel with Flood Warning, it’s also very reminiscent of the pleasure and value that Commissioner Sinet derives from working alongside the children in the Puisay books.

In the first chapter, Berna fills in some excellent descriptions of his main characters. “Lise was only just twelve. Despite its poverty, life on the islands of the Little Sea was healthy and it had made her tough without repressing the high spirits natural in someone of her age. Although she had a forgiving nature, she was scrupulously honest in matters of right and wrong.” We later discover that she has a very strong association with Fanch: “she needed Fanch’s clumsy devotion as much as the love of her parents. They had played and grown up together, and their companionship made the happiness of their lonely life. Lise did not want to lose him and she dreaded his going as the worst thing that could happen to her.” And she is very concerned that he might get into serious trouble: “if she was to keep him she would have to make him more sensible; she would have to disarm the enemies who threatened his freedom. But, above all, she would have to stop him getting into such serious trouble as would lead to his being sent away for good and all.”

As for Fanch, we quickly discover that he is totally driven by the maritime life and wants nothing else: “While his schoolfellows were racking their brains over the Maths paper, he had been far up the river above Noyalo exploring a forsaken piece of marshland which was only covered once in three years by this particular high tide […] There were few greater excitements for Fanch than these brief glimpses of hidden territory that might be revealed at any hour of the day or night by the capricious movements of the ever-present ocean.” His confidence in the water encourages him to be cheeky with the likes of the Harbour Master; where others especially of Fanch’s age might show him more respect, at first he refuses his demand that he presents himself to him: ““I can hear you quite well from here”, Fanch answered, unabashed […] the quick-tempered Harbour Master snapped, going very red in the face. “You come up here, and be quick about it, or the sergeant will have you up by the ears!” “I shouldn’t count on that,” Fanch said, firmly but politely.”

This is another of Berna’s works where he deals sensitively with the prospect of boys growing up and becoming men, leaving behind their old childhood pursuits. Fanch is never happier than when he’s out on the water, but his teacher M. Cogan makes him think twice about how not having any qualifications will restrict his opportunities once he’s an adult. “Fanch took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the good sea air. He let his gaze wander to the fresh sunlit horizon and the innumerable islands studding the pale blue sea. The thought of giving up his childhood’s paradise brought tears to his eyes. “I know you’re right,” he murmured, “but I don’t want to lose it all.””

Berna is a master of the art of creating a sense of excitement and mystery out of the simplest description. “At high tide, the horizon encircles a calm sea studded with tiny grey or green islets, the antechamber of the wide ocean. But at low water, the ebb slowly reveals a drowned landscape which seems suddenly to rise stark against the sky. A thousand secret paths seem to link the mainland once more with the ruins sunk for ten or twelve centuries in the mud of the tidal channels.” No wonder Fanch loves to go exploring. The book is littered with brief descriptive moments that reinforce the scene so beautifully and powerfully. If I am honest, however, I feel the book is very slightly let down by the nature of its ending. The treasure they find is extraordinary and unique, but I really feel it stretches the imagination of the reader beyond what is a reasonable outcome. But you might feel differently!

Here’s my chapter by chapter synopsis of the book. If you haven’t read the book yet and don’t want to see any spoilers, here’s where you have to stop reading!

 

Chapter One – The Petit-Emile. Fanch navigates his little boat, the Petit-Emile, through narrow waterways towards the village of Locmariaquer, accompanied by his friend Lise and an eel that they have caught. Fanch wants to make sure that he doesn’t run into Monsieur Cogan, the school master, also nicknamed Blackbeard. Fanch has never taken school seriously, much preferring to venture out on the waters discovering hidden nooks and crannies along the coast.

While he is waiting for Lise to return from her Aunt Annick’s, the Harbour Master Monsieur Tanguy, the Customs Officer Stephani, and two other gentlemen call to him to answer a few questions. Tanguy wants to know where his new sail and mast came from – and Fanch tells him he took some jetsam and made them from it; with the approval of Monsieur Riou, the Receiver of Wreck. And what about his new hull? That was from an abandoned boat that only emerged at a recent bore-tide. Fanch towed it to show M. Riou, who confirmed there were no boats reported missing, so allowed him to take it, at least on a temporary basis. But Tanguy is not satisfied and warns Fanch that he may have to return it to its rightful owner.

Fanch takes Lise back to her home on Ile-Hervé, and then on to his own home on Ile-Goulvan. He lives with his foster mother, Madame Guidic (Mamm) and her brother Uncle Job; and he discovers that a lodger has moved in from Paris for a short while – Monsieur Cosquer, who insists that Fanch calls him Benny. Fanch instinctively distrusts him, as Benny tries to find out more about the family he is staying with. The lodger tries to smooth the waters by offering to crew for Fanch the next time he goes out.

Chapter Two – The Seven Marshes. Benny gets up early and, from his bedroom window, watches Fanch herding fifteen Friesians towards fresh pasture. Quickly getting dressed, he goes outside and finds the Petit-Emile by the beach; whilst Fanch is away he takes the opportunity to have a good look around it. But Fanch catches him and starts to get annoyed at his persistent questions. Benny requests a trip on the boat but Fanch refuses, saying he has to help the Jégos on Ile-Hervé with their oyster-parks. Later, Fanch and Lise discuss how to handle Benny and his curiosity; she suggests he takes advantage of the good tide tomorrow to take him wherever he wants.

The next day they go out in the boat together. Benny says he doesn’t mind where Fanch takes him, but Fanch knows he wants to go back to the spot where he found the hull, the Seven Marshes. It’s foggy, and Benny can’t recognise where he is, but Fanch is such a good sailor that he has no problem navigating even under difficult weather conditions. Fanch, however, gets fed up with Benny’s constant criticism and hands over the controls of the boat. Fanch confronts him with the suggestion that this isn’t the first time he’s been on board this boat, and they get into an argument. Eventually Benny reveals that he is on a search for treasure, but he will give no further details which makes it hard for Fanch to help. But they agree to return to the Seven Marshes later that evening.

Chapter Three – The Voyage of the Waikiki. Lise keeps a watch-out towards Ile-Goulvan, expecting to see Fanch in the Petit-Emile. But her mother tells her that Job let her know that Fanch and the lodger went off very early that morning. She still expects him back later to help with their work. Lise reflects on how much she relies on Fanch for companionship and is concerned that it might not last: “Fanch is heading for trouble even though he won’t admit it.”

There’s an unexpected arrival on the Ile-Hervé in the form of the Waikiki, a blue and white American launch with two burly men aboard, Pat and Fredo, and a lot of fishing tackle. They’re friendly to Lise, they ask about the island, and tell her they’re looking for someone who is lodging somewhere in the area. Lise senses there’s something wrong but decides to mention that there is someone, staying on the Ile-Goulvan. The men go off in pursuit in a hurry, whilst Mme Jégo asks Lise to take the punt to Ile-Goulvan to return baskets and collect milk and vegetables. When she arrives, the Waikiki is already moored up.

When Pat and Fredo land, they try to run up to the house silently, but Mamm sees them and demands to know what they want. They say they are looking for their old friend Benny Cosquer, whom Pat accidentally describes as a “rat”. Mamm suggests they return the next morning, when she will have had time to arrange lunch for them. But the men are too quick for her and insist on looking through Cosquer’s luggage, as he has “something of ours”. They ransack his room; and Mamm, furious, tells them “Fanch’ll make you pay for all this”. They tie her up, much to her surprise amusement; because then Uncle Job appears with his shotgun and demands they lie flat down until Cosquer returns. Lise appears and releases Mamm, apologising for having sent the men over to her island. Mamm decides that Benny Cosquer is a trouble-maker and will be leaving the island that evening with his “friends”.

Meanwhile Fanch and Benny are still squabbling on the Petit-Emile, but when Benny notices the launch moored up on Ile-Goulvan, he asks Fanch to bring the boat in at a quiet hidden location. However, the secrecy is in vain, for Job sees them and quickly shouts out that the three of them should leave the island immediately. Benny makes a dash for it, and “there was quite a scuffle in the tamarisks before the pair finally caught him”. “The three hundred francs for his board and lodging are in an envelope. The old lady won’t touch stolen money… Now get out of it quick, and don’t you ever come back to the Ile-Goulvan!”

But Fanch has unresolved business, and running towards the men, hits both Pat and Fredo with an oar until they both fall face down in the mud. Benny finds this hilarious. “The punishment he had inflicted on the thugs seemed paltry. Mamm Guidic had given him a home; she had tended him in sickness; she had recused him from the horrors of the orphanage, and her person was sacred.” When Fanch tells her why the men were interested in the Petit-Emile, Mamm insists ““then you’ll strip her right away and sink her in the channel,” she said coldly. “The flood tide tonight may make a present of her to some other fool. I’m not having any more of this nonsense here.””

Chapter Four – The Castaway on La Teigne. Lise and Fanch go through the sad process of stripping everything out of the Petit-Emile, during which Fanch finds Benny’s map that the latter had tucked away at the bottom of the boat. Lise suggests scuttling the map along with the rest of the boat. Fanch is keen to make the Petit-Emile as light as possible so that it travels far and quickly. Removing the bung, Fanch waits until the water is up to his knees before walking off and on to Lise’s punt alongside. Once the boat is sunk, he finds Benny’s map still soggy in his back pocket. They look at it – they don’t recognise what it shows, which is some red markings around a coastline. In the end Lise suggests that they should keep it: “you never know, someone a bit more honest than Benny and a bit sharper than we are might find it handy one day.”

Later that day an exhausted Fanch returns home, but not before M. Jégo asks him why he got up so early. Fanch is desperate to go exploring and he feels lost without his boat; but Jégo reminds him he will get his old boat back very soon. Uncle Job warns him the next day will be busy with produce and they will need to be at Sarzeau market early. Nevertheless, Fanch wakes in the middle of the night, and attracted by the moonlight, walks along the cliff edge. In the distance he could hear a cry; “two miles, or even less, from the Ile-Goulvan, someone was in trouble.”

On the isolated island of La Teigne, Benny had been crying out for hours, trying to attract attention of people ashore. Fanch takes a punt and starts heading towards his voice. “The boy could hardly recognize his fellow-sailor of the morning. Benny’s clothes were torn and the blood which caked his bruised and swollen face made it look almost black in the moonlight.” Pat and Fredo had taken Benny back to the Seven Marshes but were unable to find anything, so they beat him up and left him on La Teigne to fend for himself. They were looking for his map – they found one, but Benny says it won’t get them very far. Fanch vows to help him but, because of Mamm, returning to Ile-Goulvan is not an option. Fanch suggests landing on Cow Island, where there will be shelter, and Fanch will come and leave him food whenever possible. Fanch tells Benny that they scuttled the Petit-Emile and he is furious.

Fanch returns home and starts work. They load up the punt, then head for Cow Island to do the milking. Benny has washed and was having a relaxing cigarette, as though he were living in the lap of luxury. He gives Fanch three hundred francs and asks him to buy him some clothes; Fanch suggests going over to Saint Arzhel to collect his old boat, the original Petit-Emile. The next day he bumps into the parish priest, who promises not to tell the schoolteacher that they had met.

Chapter Five – The Wreck of the Berenice.  Fredo and Pat have been observing the comings and goings on Ile-Goulvan and Cow Island from their vantage point near the Hotel Armoric. They think Fanch’s black boat is like the one they had seen previously on the River Noyalo. Pat favours keeping a close watch on him, whereas Fredo suggests they force him into working for them by means of physical violence. They approach him, but Fanch isn’t impressed. “You’re a couple of thugs!” he shouts as he outpaces them, running to the crest of the dune.

However, Fanch gets a nasty surprise as he runs straight into the arms of M. Cogan, aka Blackbeard, the schoolmaster. Cogan admits he was only there to keep an eye on the two suspicious men, but now that he has caught Fanch he won’t let go. “There’s a nice little room with bars across the windows waiting for you back at the school. You’ve all summer in front of you to swot up for the entrance exam to the High School at Lorient”. Despite Fanch’s protests, Cogan persists, and Fanch is sincerely touched by the teacher’s belief in him. “It’s time you started to grow up and make your plans for the time when you’ll be a man. You’ve got to break out of this little world of yours because the older you grow the more cramping you’re going to find it. Mamm Guidic knows this perfectly well and she knows she only holds you now by a thread […] do you think I’d go to all this trouble over someone I didn’t think worth it?” Fanch knows he’s right; and the sadness of the situation is of no comfort to either of them. However, Fanch invites Cogan to help him rig up the Petit-Emile, a chance for the two characters to come together in the same cause. Cogan suggests a compromise which allows Fanch to do some studying in his spare time. But Fanch tells him his spare time is taken up with jobs on the farm as well as dealing with the two suspicious men. Cogan is eager to hear about what’s been going on. He tells Fanch how treasure can mean more than one thing to different people: “the most ordinary little pebble can turn out to be a treasure for someone who knows what he’s looking for.” He suggests Fanch does some excavating with a pickaxe on Ile-Goulvan: “these islands were once the tops of hills and nearly all of them have one or two megaliths on them.”

Cogan suggests they try to interview Benny but Fanch thinks it would be a waste of time. His idea is to speak to M. Tanguy but he’s uncomfortable about doing it on his own. Cogan, however, isn’t “scared of the old boy. If he does know anything, he won’t refuse to pass it on to me.” They set off, and when Tanguy spies him in the distance, he and Stephani place a bet as to whether he’ll make it there safely in that little dinghy. When he realises Fanch is accompanied by Cogan, he’s delighted that the schoolmaster has finally caught up with him. However, his mood swings when Fanch tells him he scuttled the other boat. Cogan quizzes Tanguy on whether they’ve had any mysterious enquiries about a lost or hidden boat, and both Tanguy and Stephani explain they’ve had several.

Tanguy tells them of the Berenice, a twelve-ton cabin cruiser that was stolen some time earlier. It seems to have gone completely missing. Tanguy suspects it’s part of a wider criminal activity. He suggests sending a dredger over to Ile-Goulvan and getting Fanch to sift the sand for traces of the Berenice. In the first instance, Fanch and Cogan arrange to meet at Kerivau, and then they’ll sail to Cow Island to catch up with Benny.

Chapter Six – Robbery on the Island.  Passing Ile-Hervé, Fanch sees Lise on the shoreline. She tells him that Pat and Fredo had found Benny on Cow Island and abducted him. This is a blow to Fanch, although Cogan reminds him that they’re bound to lead them to the Berenice. Lise reminds Fanch he has the map; but he’s left it behind on Ile-Goulvan. Cogan realises that Fanch didn’t find the map much use because he couldn’t read it. Fanch suggests that Cogan takes a room at the farm for a few days. Lise will be there too.

Mamm is honoured to have Cogan come to stay. They’re eager to read the map – it shows one continuous coastline, and some writing on it: “S. E. Grey church tower beyond cross-shaped tree. N. E. Red and white pylon slightly to right of parrot’s beak”. Cogan assumes the parrot’s beak must be a rock, and that the red and white pylon must belong to an electricity grid line. There’s a landmark marked K, which Fanch identifies as the old brick works at Kerguenen: “you can only see that landmark five months of the year […] by the end of May they’re completely hidden by the trees.” They continue to pore over the map with various theories. It’s Lise who recognises the shape of the horn on a map on the wall in the farmhouse.

During the night, the sound of a motorboat engine wakes Fanch and Cogan. Uncle Job has already gone out to investigate, and he reports that three men were in the boat going past at first, and that there’s only one coming on the way back. Cogan assumes that the other two have landed already, and the third will probably join them; they are concerned for Mamm and Lise’s safety, sleeping alone in the house. They take up different positions to keep watch; but Fanch is so angry that he can’t stay still, and when Pat comes along towards the house, Fanch sticks out his foot so that he comes crashing to the ground. But the villains out-trick the heroes, and it’s not long before Benny, Pat and Fredo are in the house. They snatch the map off the wall, the glass smashes and they tear off a part of it. But then Mamm appears, armed with a broom, which she wields like a lethal weapon, sending it crack across Benny’s face. The men escape, but it’s Lise who has the last laugh – the men won’t get far as she has poured two pounds of sugar into the petrol tank of their boat.

Chapter Seven – Grey Church Tower beyond Cross-Shaped Tree. Fanch, Lise and Blackbeard head off to the Seven Marshes. They don’t have Benny’s map but Fanch can remember its clues perfectly, and he has his own methods of navigation. He tells Cogan that his motivation for all this is to be the first to find the hull of the Berenice and open the cabin door. When he asks Lise the same question, she replies, “I’m not looking for anything […] All I want to do is share something nice with Fanch.”

But there’s another problem. A man in a motorboat checks them out and calls out “You’re not to go any farther!” He insists they change course and tie up at Le Passage. Blackbeard shouts back, refusing to obey and the man gets hysterical: “you’re one of the three crooks who wrecked my best boat on the Mare’s Nose!” Cogan identifies himself to the owner of the Waikiki who calms down. It was obviously Lise’s sugar treatment that has upset him! However, he later accuses Manoel and Picou, two campers in a canoe, of the same thing. Cogan defends them and then invites them to join their adventure.

The two boats proceed as far as the Petit-Emile will go. Blackbeard goes with Manoel and Picou along the channel. Lise and Fanch moor the Petit-Emile and continue on foot. Fanch is convinced the “grey church tower” is the one at Kérandré. They meet up with the others – they can see that Cogan has obviously noticed something. Lise discovers the cross-shaped tree, so they’re on the right track. And then – Fanch finds the Berenice! It’s a sorrowful sight, all caked in mud. Fanch makes the first move and pushes the cabin door open. And there sits Benny. He reveals that he is an insurance inspector, and that Pat and Fredo are in a police van taking them to Paris. And then Benny reveals the whole tale. The treasure he has been seeking is the theft of the Head of Gilgamesh from an archaeological dig in Iran, which has been passed from dealer to dealer and amassed a huge value. But it’s not in the Berenice – presumed to be at the bottom of the sea.

Chapter Eight – The Golden Eyes of Gilgamesh. Sometime later,  Benny and two men arrive on Ile-Goulvan. Mamm is not welcoming, but Benny says they need to see Fanch – and she tells them that he has something for them too – the clothes that Benny had asked Fanch to buy for him all that time back. Benny advises him that the search for Gilgamesh is still not over, if he would like to come up to the wreck of the Berenice, but Fanch refuses. Blackbeard is still a resident; the experience of the past few weeks has made them all nervous. Mamm, however, allows Manoel and Picou to visit, camping out on the island and enjoying the occasional meal in the big kitchen. One day they report that the Seven Marshes is a hive of activity: “the place is alive with treasure-hunters in dungarees and frogmen’s outfits, Some of them are up to their waists in mud dragging with grapnels.”

Cogan and Fanch drive Mamm’s Friesians back from Cow Island. M. Jégo meets them, saying he has something exciting to show them. So they jump aboard – together with Lise who was already there – and head off towards the wreck of the Petit-Emile II, which had reappeared despite being scuttled. Mamm agrees that Fanch can keep her, “but take good care that it doesn’t bring the police and the burglars and all that crowd of nasty people who don’t belong here. Otherwise I’ll get cross.”

Cogan and Fanch set off on the new dinghy, leaving Lise to disentangle the hand-lines and coil them on the old boat. Her work done, she pauses to relax and observe the waves and reflections. Then – a shock of recognition! ““Gilgamesh,” she said in a choked voice. “He’s here, right under the bows.”” Fanch says she’s imagining things, but then he admits “there was a concrete mooring-block in the bottom of the dinghy when I hauled her out of the mud […] it was a good weight, and I used it to double the anchor block of our mooring-buoy”. With all their strength and might they heave up the mooring-buoy; and “up came Gilgamesh, the water streaming off him as he half emerged from the blackish matrix which the slow steady action of the waves had partially worn away.”

Mamm won’t have it in the house, and insists they take it to Locmariaquer at once. Benny, Tanguy and his team are not impressed that Fanch has returned yet again. But without a sound they deposit the head on the desk and remove its covering. Words fail everyone! It’s agreed that Fanch can keep the dinghy, but Lise is disappointed to have given up Gilgamesh so quickly. Cogan makes Fanch confess when he actually found the head; but Fanch does not feel guilty because he had kept a promise to Lise. “Ever since we were children, […] Lise’s always asked me to find her a treasure. I only kept quiet about this one, to give her the joy of finding it herself.”

To sum up; As always, Berna writes credible and powerful characters, facing a variety of challenges, which all turn out for the best. The reader might well identify with Fanch, its hero; Lise takes a more subservient, dismissive role and perhaps isn’t someone with whom many young readers might want to identify. But the book tells a moral tale and clearly delineates between good and bad behaviour without ever coming across as prissy or goody-goody. That’s the last we see of Fanch, Lise and the maritime life of Brittany, and if you’ve read the book – or are re-reading it now, I’d love to know what you think about it, so please add a comment below. Next up in the Paul Berna Challenge is a very different change of style and tone, Un Pays sans légende, translated into English as They Didn’t Come Back. I look forward to re-reading it and sharing my thoughts about it in a few weeks.

Review – Screaming Blue Murder, Lola’s Bar at the Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 17th November 2024

The only constant is change, they say, and nowhere is that more obvious than in the various transformations our local treasure Screaming Blue Murder has undergone in the last few months. Now in the comfortable and atmospheric setting of Lola’s Bar, adjacent to the Royal and Derngate theatre, it’s an intimate location with top quality drinks (always helps) and a small stage area decked out like Beverley’s living room in Abigail’s Party.

However, one thing that is as constant as the northern star, and that’s the presence of Dan Evans as MC for the evening. Warmly welcoming and irrepressibly cheeky in equal measure, Dan wasted no time in digging deep into the lives and loves of John the psychotherapist from Brixworth and Dylan and Emma still in the first flushes of romance. Where would we be without him?

Our first act, and someone we always look forward to seeing, was Mary Bourke, one of the surest hands in comedy, with her blistering, sometimes dangerous, often withering delivery of her cracking observations. Hers is an act honed to perfection; what might seem to be a throwaway line is in fact an exquisitely crafted and carefully chosen selection of words designed to have the maximum impact. Among her finest material on Sunday were memories of a book festival with Liz Truss (ouch), dealing with incels and how a renowned American comic came to grief in Glasgow (it can happen). Always expect the unexpected with Mary Bourke; a terrific start to the show.

After the interval, Dan welcomed James Cook, whom we’ve seen just once before, down the end of a Zoom screen on those dark days of distanced comedy during Covid lockdown. An engaging, jolly personality, he delivers his material with warmth and confidence; and although many of his topics are perhaps rather familiar – such as being the parents of small children – his observations and fresh and original and makes you see those familiar things from a new perspective. I loved (and was indeed rather shocked) at his material about the seismic change that has affected the world of pass-the-parcel, and his home-made method of returning to the good old days of porn (that sounds iffier than it is, honest). He sets up an excellent rapport with the crowd and his set finished all too soon.

There’s one more Screaming Blue Murder this year – in December – which is currently scheduled to take place back in Screen 2 of the cinema, but hopefully the powers that be will see the wisdom of returning to Lola’s Bar for a genuine Northampton Fringe experience. And then – in 2025 – it’s back to the Royal and hopefully, the freshly reinvigorated (and hopefully now safe from RAAC) Underground space where SBM has always thrived. Can’t wait!

Review – The Red Shoes, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 14th November 2024

The 1948 film of The Red Shoes received mixed reviews at first, but over the years has acquired something of a cult status and a 2017 poll for Time Out magazine ranked it the fifth best British film ever. It is said to have inspired a generation of girls to become dancers, no doubt in part due to its extensive ballet sequences. However, am I alone in not realising that originally it was an 1845 cautionary fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen? And that it’s chock-full of those gruesome elements you associate with Andersen or the Brothers Grimm?

Dinner partyNancy Harris’ reimagined Red Shoes transforms Andersen’s originally vain Karen into almost the opposite. So mortified is she by the loss of her mother, that she is mute with shock when first brought into the repugnant, wealthy Nugent household, dominated by the callous and self-serving Mariella. Kindlier, but distinctly under the thumb, is her husband Bob; their out-of-control son Clive, who is possessed with a desire to kill living animals and chop off body parts, spends most of his time harassing the poor girl. Only Mags, the housekeeper, expresses concern for Karen’s welfare.

KarenKaren’s weakness is that she is easily tempted. First, by the shoemaker Sylvestor, who offers her a pair of irresistible red shoes that cause her to dance with neither inhibition nor control. And when a dinner party turns into disaster because Karen’s shoes run rampage through the china and cutlery, Mariella condemns her to a life as a kitchen maid and providing care to poor Mags who has suffered a heart attack as a result of the shock of what Craig Revel Horwood might call a Dance Disaster. Today we’d see it as very bad parenting.

Mariella and MagsKaren is tempted again to go to a ball whilst she should be looking after the ailing Mags, where she meets Prince who encourages her to stay out late dancing. Result: the old lady dies and it’s all Karen’s fault. The cautionary aspects of the original tale are clearly pushed to the forefront, with Karen feeling the full force of retribution for her selfishness. However, for me, the deliberate weaving of Karen’s story with the Cinderella tale – kitchen maid, ball, Prince, missing shoe – means that neither side is fully explored.

KarenOverall, the whole vision for the play feels a little messy. For example, we seem to be partly in a Victorian era, when you could take in an orphan to your household without any paperwork, and there is an orphans’ committee that the snobbish Mariella wants to impress; and yet Bob Nugent is making business deals on his mobile. The play is accompanied by a full score performed by Tom Slade’s superb team of seven musicians, but it’s not a musical as such, and sometimes the music almost overwhelms what’s happening on stage. Given the shoes are magical, there are a few “magic” moments in the show – although I would have hoped for a little more; however, I can report that Ryan Day’s lighting design is excellent, with the auditorium being bathed in red light at the beginning and providing some impressive eerie effects, and Colin Richmond’s set features a grand mirror of positive affirmation and a splendidly sanctimonious family portrait. And there is some delightfully outrageous footwear.

SylvestorNikki Cheung uses her skills to give us a Karen who is most at ease when giving in to the compulsion to dance, one of the highlights of the production. Dianne Pilkington’s monstrous Mariella is a marvellous comedy hypocrite, moaning about how slapping an orphan isn’t a great look in front of the chair of the Orphans’ committee, and accounting for the antisocial (not to mention illegal) behaviour of her dreadful son by virtue of his being artistic. Sebastien Torkia portrays Sylvestor as eerie and sinister, a Master Magician strangely controlling Karen’s destiny; and there’s a delightful burst of sanity from Sakuntala Ramanee as Mags, the only truly decent person in the story.

Dance Disaster DarlingI found this a strangely cold and unmoving production. I felt no connection with any of the characters – not even Karen; in fact some of them repelled me so much that I couldn’t even see their “funny side”. There are a few great lines, and a couple of lively scenes – but even so, although the chaotic dinner party in Act One is superbly choreographed as a piece of slapstick entertainment, the execution of it wasn’t as crisp as it required. The show doesn’t feel very “Christmassy”, and there’s scarcely a resemblance to the famous film. It’s quite successful as a modern re-telling of a cautionary tale with all its mental and physical cruelty, but as family entertainment there’s a lot of content that I found disturbing, let alone how a young child might react. Despite its obvious qualities and the calibre of its cast, I’m afraid this one didn’t quite do it for me.

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Frankenstein, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 12th November 2024

Apart from perhaps a glimpse of some of the film when I was a child, I’ve not come any closer into contact with the Frankenstein story than Rocky Horror or Herman Munster. So it was with curiosity more than anything that I anticipated Tilted Wig’s production of Frankenstein, ending its short English tour at the Royal and Derngate this week. However, the briefest glimpse at a synopsis of Mary Shelley’s original is enough for me to realise how respectful and intelligent Sean Aydon’s adaptation is.

Victoria and FrancineSet in 1943, Victoria Frankenstein has abandoned her family to devote herself to scientific research. Her ultimate goal is to create human life from the bones and organs of the dead. She has no concern as to how her creation looks, or feels, or speaks – if indeed it can do any of those things. Her only concern is that it remains a secret; one she shares only with her laboratory assistant Francine. On the night she hopes to create her life, the operation appears to fail – but, unseen by Victoria, the monster does indeed come alive and escapes the laboratory. This leads to a series of events with fatal results for everyone.

The Captain's CabinNicky Bunch’s design gives us two sets. The opening and closing scenes of the play take place in the small, claustrophobic cabin where the “Captain” lives, giving shelter and food to Victoria when she’s starving and homeless. For the main story, the cabin opens up to reveal the laboratory, with tall windows and cabinets full of jars and artifacts, and the bed on which the monster is being created. The costumes are functional and suitably workaday apart from Henry and Francine’s smart going-out outfits and the stylish vivid red of Dr Richter’s dress. Hats off to Imogen Mercer’s make-up for meeting the challenge of creating Frankenstein’s monster; and Marc Watkins and Jason Addison’s lighting design works well, although there were a couple of first night fumbles which everyone politely ignored.

Creature and HenryOverall it’s an excellent production, which tells its story very clearly – helped, I must say, by the immaculate enunciation of all the cast, which was completely delightful. Sean Aydon’s direction enhances the creepy atmosphere and beautifully balances subtlety with the grotesque. I love, for example, how Basienka Blake’s Richter doesn’t have to say a word to convey her contempt and loathing for Francine and Henry, based on pure ideological eugenics.

FrankensteinI’m almost ashamed to admit that I jumped in my seat about four times when there was a sudden noise or movement even though I knew there’d be a sudden noise or movement any minute. As a sucker for convincing stage combat, the scene where (Spoiler alert, sorry) the Creature kills Henry was performed immaculately by both actors, for which they have my absolute admiration.

VictoriaEmily-Jane McNeill has superb stage presence as Dr Frankenstein; ruthlessly intent on carrying out her research whilst also revealing the character’s vulnerable aspects. Andy Cresswell avoids all stereotypes with a remarkably human portrayal of the Creature, neither thug nor fool, genuinely tugging at our heartstrings as he reflects on his frustrations and loneliness. Basienka Blake gives us two excellent characterisations, as the wary, hard-nosed Captain and the elegantly fascist Richter. And there’s superb support from Brianne Surgeoner’s faithful Francine, Tawana Dingembira’s urbane Henry and Lydia Whitehead’s Elizabeth. A very fine production and well worth catching.

Production photos by Robling Photography

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Film Music Gala with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 8th November 2024

A packed house of all ages was buzzing for the Royal Philharmonic’s return to the Royal and Derngate for one of their Film Music Gala concerts, a uniquely entertaining offering, guaranteed to please young and old – in fact, it is a perfect way of getting young people into the habit of seeing how different it is to hear music performed by a live orchestra rather than just listening through your headphones!

The whole orchestra (as it seemed to me) were there in force, under the baton of conductor Stephen Bell, an avuncular and enthusiastic host who gives us individual introductions to many of the pieces of music performed. The last time we saw Mr Bell conducting the RPO was for their Last Night of the Proms concert back in 2011 – please don’t leave it so long until your next visit! Stephen Bell is one of those very inclusive conductors who makes sure that every element of the orchestra has their moment in the spotlight, reaching out with his baton at an awkward angle, maybe hopping on one leg to do so. His sheer enjoyment of his job is infectious and helps to make the evening go with a swing.

The programme started with a brilliant highlight – the Flying Theme and Finale to ET by John Williams; it’s such a rich and positive melody, sumptuously arranged, and a total joy to hear. Themes to Gladiator, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone and Jurassic Park followed, and then we had leader of the orchestra Duncan Riddell playing as a violin soloist for Williams’ moving Schinder’s List theme. Everyone automatically froze at the opening double bass notes of the instantly recognisable Jaws theme; then the main themes to Out of Africa and Robin Hood Prince of Thieves followed, and then the very different style of Ron Goodwin’s 633 Squadron drew the first half to a conclusion.

After the interval, we heard Vangelis’ Chariots of Fire theme; a piece of music I normally expect to hear played primarily by keyboard or synthesiser – it comes across very differently – much more substantial – when played by a full orchestra. Next was a blend of excitement and melancholy with the themes to Apollo 13, the Hymn to the Fallen from Saving Private Ryan and the familiar March from Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. Mancini’s lilting and romantic Moon River from Breakfast at Tiffany’s followed, and then Sir Arthur Bliss’ rousing March from the 1936 film Things to Come. The evening wrapped up with three different pieces from Star Wars – Princess Leia’s Theme, the Imperial March and the Main Theme.

A Film Music Gala works superbly well as an entertainment because each piece is relatively short and is designed to stand alone. It’s very different from an evening of classical excerpts where you often wish you could hear more from the work from which the extract is taken. But a film theme can last as little as a couple of minutes and is complete in itself. The audience at the Royal and Derngate on Friday had a whale of a time and didn’t want to let the orchestra go home! It’s not often you see a standing ovation at an orchestral concert – which only shows how superb the whole evening was.

Five Alive, Let Music Thrive!

Review – Ben Elton, Authentic Stupidity Tour, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 6th November 2024

The day after the United States voted convicted felon Donald Trump back in for a second term of office, the inventor of political correctness, Ben Elton, brought his Authentic Stupidity show to the Royal and Derngate, Northampton. What a time to be alive! The whole premise of this new show is that, whilst we’re all concerned about the rise of Artificial Intelligence, the damages caused by Authentic Stupidity far outweigh a clever computer; and given recent events, it’s hard to argue against it.

The last time I saw Ben Elton he was hovering around the foyer of the Queen Elizabeth Hall in 1983 at a star-studded evening of music and comedy in aid of the El Salvador Solidarity Campaign. Ah, the happy days of political optimism – boy, we stuck it to the fascists that night. Decades later, the fight goes on, and Mr Elton is still full of fire and fury at the age of 65, although he’s moved on from Mrs Thatch (I think we all have) and has entered that period of bewilderment at the world, that we can all appreciate.

On stage for the best part of two and a half hours, his energy, sincerity and commitment to the show are palpable. He rips through his material at a cracking pace – so much so that occasionally you start to tune out because he just has so much to say. He doesn’t want to turn into a grumpy old man, but he is proof that, with the best will in the world, it’s impossible not to. What’s different about his material from other comics of a similar age, facing similar bewilderment at progress and, dare I say it, woke, is that despite his confusion, he accepts it, admires it, and wants to run with it; he just doesn’t know how.

When, for example, did a meal at a restaurant stop being about the food and service, and start being about vibe? And whilst he is of course happy for the ever-burgeoning letters tacked on to the rainbow acronym to keep increasing, he wonders if he could add BSC to the end of the list (you’ll have to see his show to discover what that stands for).

One of Ben Elton’s many comedic gifts is his ability to go on at length about very relatable subjects and explore their most ludicrous aspects. It’s true, for example, how proprietorial we become when we’ve put our refuse bins outside the night before collection, peering through the curtains to make sure no one’s nicked them, or – even worse – put extra rubbish in them. It’s also true that, when one’s wife wakes up in the night having heard a sound, it’s always the man that has to go and investigate.

He also has a considerably long sequence of material regarding assisted dying, with specific reference to Dame Esther Rantzen’s campaign; these are things you definitely start to think about when you reach your mid-60s. It’s a difficult subject to be funny about, but Mr E achieves it with consummate ease. And you’ll never guess who his favourite James Bond is!

Now he’s reached official retirement age, Ben Elton shows no signs of slowing down – he’s as fired up and as energetic as ever. To keep up that intensity of comic delivery for two and a half hours is a true test of stamina – he’ll need that for the rest of the tour, which continues until February. Highly recommended!

Review – Dom Joly, The Conspiracy Tour, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 3rd November 2024

Can you believe it’s 25 years since Trigger Happy TV – which made Dom Joly a household name – first started broadcasting, since when he’s had several TV shows, written many books, and done a couple of live tours. The Conspiracy Tour marks his return to the stage after many years absence and – as he admits himself – is basically a book tour, publicising his new opus The Conspiracy Tourist, where he meets conspiracy theorists around the world from the bizarre to the bonkers, and even the occasionally perfectly sane.

He cuts a commanding figure on stage; relaxed, confident and thoroughly at ease. He maintains he doesn’t tell jokes – probably true – but that doesn’t stop the evening (or the first half at least) from having plenty to laugh at. He presents us with an inverse pyramid of theories; at the upside down apex, ideas which are within a hair’s breadth of reality. At the other end of the scale, stuff that’s completely doolally. And he takes us through a few of these ideas to test their reasonableness, and then raconteur his way through his experiences, trying to prove or disprove them.

For example, did you know that some people think that Finland doesn’t exist? That it’s an invention between the Russians and the Japanese to fish the waters of the Baltic and then secretly transport their catch eastwards? They believe that anyone who says they are a Finn is really a Swede. Hmmm. Well, I’ve been to Finland three times and can attest there is definitely land there. And would they really doubt the word of the great Lasse Viren? That one’s bonkers.

But what about Denver International Airport? No one doubts that its existence, but what secrets might it be hiding? Do you believe in UFOs? Dom Joly’s been to Roswell to find out (so that we don’t have to). And how about the assassination of JFK? At the top of the scale is where the Illuminati sit side-by-side with the Flat-Earthers, and Mr J has even been to Fogo Island, Newfoundland, where that latter group believe one of the four literal corners of the earth is situated (Clue: it isn’t.) There’s no doubt that he’s put the work in to make his book a definitive account of conspiracy theories and, as a comedy lecture, the first half works well.

However, after the interval things fall apart somewhat. After a lengthy introductory video, we meet Dr Julian Northcote, conspiracy theorist extraordinaire, who regales us with a few stories and attempts to prove his ridiculous ideas. Spoiler: it’s Dom Joly in a wig and glasses doing what feels like an impersonation of a Harry Enfield character. Once he’s been bundled off stage for improper behaviour, Mr Joly returns for a Q&A session; this always strikes me as being a way of a performer saying I can’t quite work out how to end this show, so you end it for me. There were a few questions about conspiracy theories, about which Mr J was rather dismissive, I thought; and a few questions about the Trigger Happy days with which he was more comfortable. It ended with a final look at conspiracy theories and the promise of an assignation in the foyer to buy his book and take selfies. And, to be fair, he had quite a queue forming when we left.

A curate’s egg of an evening, but when Mr Joly gets going on the subject of his expeditions to sort the wheat from the conspiracy chaff, he’s on great form. Only a couple more shows left of his tour now – in Carlisle and Stockton-on-Tees.

Review – The Duchess, Trafalgar Theatre, London, 2nd November 2024

When they announced a few months ago that Jodie Whittaker would be appearing in a new version of The Duchess of Malfi I jumped at the chance, knowing this would be a big ticket show for the autumn and a massive success. Then I saw the reviews…. and we were severely tempted not to throw good money after bad and save the cost of the train ticket. But curiosity got the better of us so that we could see for ourselves just how awful the production was. And I’m very glad we did.

Given this is one of theatre’s most acclaimed plays throughout the centuries, it’s perhaps surprising how simple the story is. In a nutshell: a young widow, the Duchess has fallen for her steward, Antonio, and wants to marry him. Her brothers, the Cardinal and Ferdinand, however, want her to stay widowed and alone; their reason for this is never truly made clear – a mixture of power, jealousy, perhaps financial; but primarily simply because they can. When she marries Antonio, they are so enraged that they plot revenge, which (spoiler alerts seem hardly necessary after four hundred years) culminate in her death. Ferdinand goes mad; (nearly) everybody dies.

First, this isn’t The Duchess of Malfi as John Webster wrote it. The programme describes it as written and directed by Zinnie Harris after John Webster. I didn’t count them, but I would estimate there are about twenty of Webster’s original lines that have made it through to this version, including the famous I am Duchess of Malfi still, which, disappointingly, they use three times in the same scene, proving that sometimes less is more. Second, although the final scene ends in a bloodbath, as in the original, there’s one significant character who doesn’t die, and those that do are murdered by different people from the original. Third, of all the things that they could have dropped from the original, the songs have been included, but again performed by different people and at different points. Indeed, they are enhanced with the appearance of a musician whose sole purpose is to play the guitar and look moody. I guess the singing does lend an air of Brechtian alienation, if that was deliberate.

But this is a good moment to point out that this modern Duchess isn’t anything like as bad as some people would have you think. The storytelling is crystal clear, and although I would have preferred the new text to have more subtlety and less crudity – the Cardinal asking Julia if she wants to suck his c*ck for example, lacks iambic pentameter at the very least – it’s totally believable and extremely relevant.

There is a caveat here; after several hours of contemplation and discussion, we still can’t decide whether or not the final scene was played for laughs. According to Webster, Ferdinand accidentally wounds Bosola, which eventually causes the latter’s death. In this production, Ferdinand accidentally shoots someone else with the words oops I didn’t mean to do that. See what I mean? If they don’t mean to play it for laughs, then the whole final scene is far too ludicrous to take seriously; if they do mean to play it for laughs, it’s not funny enough. Although, to be fair: fantastic bloodography.

This version includes many of the original’s elements, such as the apricots, the use of Echo, and Ferdinand’s lycanthropy; and changes others, such as having Delio and Julia married in a loveless relationship, with Delio secretly besotted with Antonio. The torture of the Duchess is made more direct with an invasive buzzer sound and blinding light treatment, and a repeated blood-spattered projection of Antonio and her children being shot by firing squad; it may be in keeping with the rest of the play but it’s tedious and annoying to watch. Didn’t I tell you that the text could do with more subtlety?

However, it boasts a terrific cast who all put in tremendous performances. Jodie Whittaker is superb as the Duchess; forthright, cheeky, brave, and vulnerable. Joel Fry carries off Antonio’s mildness superbly, nicely underplayed and completely believable. Paul Ready’s Cardinal is deliciously duplicitous; an arrogant, hypocritical wretch and a perfect accompaniment with Rory Fleck Byrne’s unpredictable and sadistic Ferdinand. Jude Owusu’s Bosola is a man tricked into crime which clashes with his inner nobility, which he conveys powerfully well. Matti Houghton is also great as the Duchess’s maid Cariola,nicely no-nonsense, deeply practical and loyal; and there’s excellent support from Elizabeth Ayodele’s Julia and Hubert Burton’s Delio.

Webster was much possessed by death, according to T S Eliot, and this production certainly emphasises that. Clearly, if you are a Jacobean purist, you are going to hate this production. However, despite its unsubtleties and excesses, The Duchess makes for a compelling watch with excellent storytelling. The limited run lasts at the Trafalgar Theatre until 20th December.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Our Little Hour, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 31st October 2024

If you made a list of people who really ought to be famous in Britain’s recent history – but aren’t – Walter Tull would be somewhere near the top. A local hero in Northampton, we have a statue of him at the Guildhall, and there’s a Walter Tull House and even Walter Tull Way skirts around Northampton Town’s football ground at Sixfields. But who was he?

That’s the question that Dougie Blaxland and Chris Anthony answer in their quite brilliant and intimate musical play Our Little Hour, commissioned by Show Racism The Red Card in association with Live Wire Theatre, and currently ending its run with three nights at the Royal and Derngate. Walter Tull was one of five children born in Folkestone, in 1888 to Barbados-born Daniel and Alice; when he was seven Alice died of cancer and his father remarried Clara, her cousin. They had another child, but then Daniel died shortly afterwards. Clara found it impossible to look after the entire family, so Walter and his older brother Edward were sent to a Home in Bethnal Green.

The play takes us from Walter’s carefree early childhood days, through the heartache of losing his parents and being sent away to a strict orphanage, to his successful football career. Walter always had an impressive talent for football, which came to fruition when he played first for non-league Clapton, then Tottenham Hotspurs no less, and finally moving to Northampton Town (big local cheers) where he settled down – and fell in love with his landlady, Emily, in Rushden. But then the First World War came, and Tull enlisted with the Army. He rose to prominence with his gallantry and leadership skills, becoming the first black Commissioned Officer in the Army. His bravery on the Italian Front led him to being recommended for the Military Cross; but he was killed in action in March 1918 before it could be awarded.

On a simple set, with just a few props but some very effective lighting, the cast of three enact the life of Tull with superb characterisations, impeccable clarity of speech and stunning vocal harmonies. Dougie Blaxland’s text is elegantly written and deals with difficult subjects like racism, injustice and grief with subtlety and delicacy, and Chris Anthony’s score dovetails perfectly into the story, and, like any good musical, always drives the narrative forwards. It reminded me strongly of arguably the best show in the genre, Howard Goodall’s The Hired Man, with its piano accompaniments and plaintive storytelling; and whilst it doesn’t have the impact of that groundbreaking show, it still packs a punch. That’s not a grotesque, painful punch, but a graceful, subtle punch that always lands its blow with precision and a lightness of touch. An example of this is the scene where Tull is writing home from the Front – his letters to Emily talk about how beautiful the countryside is and what the food is like; and are recited side-by-side with his letters to his brother which tell the brutality of war.

Leon Newman, Neil Reidman and Susie Broadbent work together as a seamless ensemble of three but also shine in their own individual roles. Mr Newman is outstanding as Walter, exuding a charismatic nobility and honesty that truly impresses. He is also excellent as the firm but fair Reverend in charge of the Folkestone church and who deposits the Tull boys in the orphanage; and as the Glaswegian Warnock who adopts Edward Tull – who himself went on to become the first mixed-heritage person to qualify as a dentist in Britain.

Susie Broadbent gives us a terrific range of characters including Alice and Clara Tull, the no-nonsense matron at the orphanage, and a very funny contribution as the manager of Spurs. Neil Reidman is great as the spirited (and spiritual) Daniel Tull, the orphanage boss, and as Herbert Chapman, the manager of Northampton Town. It’s impossible to list all their roles, because there are so many, each one clearly characterised so we never have any doubt as to whom they are portraying.

If I have a criticism, it would be that it’s a little hard to get a sense of the timings involved in Tull’s story. The play doesn’t, for example, convey the fact that Tull played for Northampton for four seasons with 111 first-team appearances; it feels more like he was only there briefly before the war started. And Emily mispronounces the name of the River Nene, which is a capital offence in Northampton! At times extremely sad, but also extraordinarily uplifting, this is a beautiful, simple but impressive production which fills a gap in our history. The run ends on Saturday 2nd November, but hopefully this marvellous show and its terrific performances will have a life in the future.

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!