Close the Coalhouse Door – review
Northern Stage, Newcastle
There's a strong theme of fathers and sons running throughout Close the Coalhouse Door. First Alan Plater dramatised stories by his mentor, the literary pitman Sid Chaplin, singing the praises of the north-eastern mining tradition. Now Plater's heir apparent, Lee Hall, has provided supplementary material, bringing the story up to date.
"Bringing the story up to date" means, of course, incorporating the fact that there's no north-eastern mining industry left to sing about. In Soutra Gilmour's design, the red-brick terraced house in which the action takes place is now condemned, overlooked by a billboard advertising Meryl Streep's performance as The Iron Lady. But it very much remains Plater's piece. Hall likens his intervention to "keyhole surgery. I kept thinking, 'What would Alan do?'"
First staged in 1968, Close the Coalhouse Door did for the coalfields what Oh! What a Lovely War did for the fields of Flanders. Its roots lie in a long history of politicised struggle, but its soul belongs to the music hall. The setting is a family gathering to celebrate a golden wedding anniversary, though the front parlour is really a forum for Plater's playful brand of gritty northern surrealism, in which a family dispute is interrupted by Lord Hailsham performing a Geordie vaudeville routine, or Harold Wilson popping round to explain government fuel policy.
The original threw a brass band into the works: Samuel West's exuberant production (a collaboration between Northern Stage and Live Theatre) makes do with an engaging ensemble of actor-musicians, with the original folk anthems of Alex Glasgow treated to inventive new arrangements by Sam Kenyon. And Hall's surgery, though subtle, is incisive. His main contribution is to add a telling coda that links the collapse of the coal industry to the rise of the call centre. What would Plater have done? He'd have laughed a lot and despaired a little, along with everyone else.
"Bringing the story up to date" means, of course, incorporating the fact that there's no north-eastern mining industry left to sing about. In Soutra Gilmour's design, the red-brick terraced house in which the action takes place is now condemned, overlooked by a billboard advertising Meryl Streep's performance as The Iron Lady. But it very much remains Plater's piece. Hall likens his intervention to "keyhole surgery. I kept thinking, 'What would Alan do?'"
First staged in 1968, Close the Coalhouse Door did for the coalfields what Oh! What a Lovely War did for the fields of Flanders. Its roots lie in a long history of politicised struggle, but its soul belongs to the music hall. The setting is a family gathering to celebrate a golden wedding anniversary, though the front parlour is really a forum for Plater's playful brand of gritty northern surrealism, in which a family dispute is interrupted by Lord Hailsham performing a Geordie vaudeville routine, or Harold Wilson popping round to explain government fuel policy.
The original threw a brass band into the works: Samuel West's exuberant production (a collaboration between Northern Stage and Live Theatre) makes do with an engaging ensemble of actor-musicians, with the original folk anthems of Alex Glasgow treated to inventive new arrangements by Sam Kenyon. And Hall's surgery, though subtle, is incisive. His main contribution is to add a telling coda that links the collapse of the coal industry to the rise of the call centre. What would Plater have done? He'd have laughed a lot and despaired a little, along with everyone else.
No comments:
Post a Comment