Are You Being Served?

I’m not ashamed to admit that ‘Are You Being Served?’ just happens to be one of my favourite television programmes. When I was far too young to understand why the studio audience fell about laughing at every mention of Mrs Slocombe’s pussy (I just assumed she must have a particularly comical cat), the original broadcasts were a Sunday evening treat before an early bedtime ready for school on Monday morning. Frequent daytime repeats over subsequent years always had me glued to the TV and there probably isn't an episode of this gloriously silly nonsense I don’t know word for word. The stage adaptation dips into the bawdy bran tub of the show’s episodes for jolly innuendo-laden dialogue and is structured around the spin-off film adaptation, where the staff of Grace Brothers end up holidaying on the Costa Plonka while the store is being refurbished with inevitably farcical results. I’ve always had a bit of a problem with stage adaptations of TV sit-com favourites and the more I see, the more I’m convinced that actually, artistically speaking, they are a waste of everybody’s time. Approaching this stage version of one of my favourite TV shows was therefore something of a nerve racking affair and I really was hoping against all hope that Therese Ball and Blackburn Drama Club would pull off the impossible and bring this TV classic to the stage without breaking my heart. It’s probably going to cast something of a disagreeable shadow over your enjoyment of the rest of this show report dear reader when I tell you at the outset that I really didn’t enjoy this production. I really didn’t enjoy it at all. I’m quite sure that the my problems with the production stem from the script - and the ill-conceived notion of attempting to reproduce my favourite - and wildly amusing - TV classic without the patina of nostalgia, familiarity or, most importantly, the original TV cast - rather than the hard working team at the Drama Club however. It’s also worth bearing in mind that of course, any gripes I have with the production are my gripes: other than your sourpuss NODA rep, a healthy proportion of the audience certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves. Occasionally. 

What a dreary opening paragraph! Let us begin the show report ‘proper’ by applauding Therese Ball’s determination to try to knock the play into shape with the cast and resources available. There were several winning touches in this production which did lift the spirits and helped to oil the theatrical wheels. I think there are two options open to a theatrical team when staging a television sit-com, both of which bring their own problems when mounting a live interpretation of a small screen classic: attempt a perfect reproduction, populated with pin-sharp imitations of the original cast; or take the source material and fashion a new take on the original, putting a fresh stamp on the show which is tailored to the talents of the new cast. Unfortunately, unless the entire cast is capable of perfect mimicry, the first option will inevitably fall flat (and make us wonder why we didn’t stay at home and watch a repeat of the original on the box) and the second approach, while preferable, only makes one wonder why the production team didn’t choose something else to do entirely if things are going to be altered and changed out of all recognition. I think the Drama Club attempted to steer a middle path and give a flavour of the original while at the same time letting the character of the performers on stage come through too. I’m not sure it was altogether successful but it was a brave attempt nevertheless.

The curtain opened to the familiar strains of the TV theme tune - the instantly recognisable musical masterpiece from Ronnie Hazlehurst - on to the rather thinly dressed set: ironic considering this was Grace Brothers’ clothing department. That said, Grace Brothers never seemed to be overburdened with much in the way of stock or customers, so perhaps the rather plain set was apposite. Robin Brown as Mr Mash attempted to spread some earthy charm on the shop floor with his Goblin but even he was defeated by the rather flat and lifeless feel of the enterprise. Neely Jillings brought a bouncy freshness to Miss Brahms in what was perhaps the most successful character reinvention of the evening however and Claire St Pierre threw everything she’d got at filling Mollie Sugden’s caramel coloured court shoes and if only some of it stuck, it was nevertheless a brave attempt. Jonathan Mallinson wasn’t quite as old or infirm as Mr Grainger really needed to be but his frequent trips to the little boys’ room were included anyway for the exigencies of plot. Mr Lucas’ puppyish - and eternally thwarted - enthusiasm for a bit of skirt (it’s the 1970s - don’t be offended) was translated here into a character who was a much more knowing and cocksure little irritant via the agency of Ben Ashworth’s performance. He even ‘got the girl’ in the end, something which is completely counter to the Mr Lucas we know and love and a real failing of the script in translating his character for the stage. 

There has been much written over the years about the controversial figure of Mr Humphries. Contemporary ‘Gay Lib’ campaigners (this was the 1970s remember) detested the camp character for painting a negative and miserable picture: the limp wrist, the flick of the hair and the mincing trot all being held up as examples of unacceptably homophobic stone throwing. I have to say that I’ve never understood this point of view and it seems to me that those who hold John Inman’s Mr Humphries up as a limp and lamentable figure of ridicule have completely missed the point. Of all the cast of characters, he is the only self assured, confident and playful member of the Grace Brothers staff - the only one who knows who he is, what he wants and, more to the point, is successful in getting it. Compared with the the rest of the collection of bitter, twisted, thwarted and frustrated individuals who populate the fictional store, Mr Humphries is alone in being a truly free spirit who is happy in his his own skin. Where the rest of the comical cast of grotesques on display constantly yearn to be someone or somewhere else - and frequently both - Mr Humphries is living life exactly how he wants to: not for him the life of Mrs Slocombe’s depressing graspings at happiness in the pub after work with Mrs Axelby, the unfulfilled bitterness of Captain Peacock or the constantly frustrated boyish longings of would-be lothario Mr Lucas. Mr Humphries is the one thin, frail beam of light shining out of the mournfully grey edifice of Grace Brothers and it is his puckish, life affirming spirit which is the pearl in the sit-com’s oyster. It pains me to have to say it but I would have liked to see more of Mr Humphries’ playful spirit in Martin Pugh’s interpretation. True, there were occasional glimpses of the trademark larger than life character which were much appreciated but the default setting seemed to be a very 21st Century take on a certain ‘type’: the heavy lidded, world-weary dry camp presented was very much ‘of the moment’ and I found this more contemporary portrayal - while perfectly understandable - more than a little disappointing.

Captain Peacock was an essay in no nonsense military precision in the hands of Roy Washington who played the character very differently from the TV incarnation as portrayed by Frank Thornton. This was a bold move which resulted in a strong characterisation but it did have the effect of skewing the dynamic between the haughty floorwalker and rest of the cast which at times was a little awkward. Roy’s command of the stage was undeniable however and was much appreciated. The need for Mr Rumbold to have a bald head and large ears (the character is little other than a constant source of jokes at his expense based on his physical appearance) resulted in Simon Hall wandering the stage looking rather bemused at having what appeared to be a cardboard bedpan permanently lodged on his head. If this wasn’t the reason for Mr Rumbold’s rather spaced-out demeanour on stage, Simon’s interior motivation nevertheless resulted in a comically surreal take on the character which was certainly interesting. While we are edging into the realms of the surreal, it is worth mentioning Gary Waugh’s bonkers revolutionary Cesar Rodriguez at this point. With his misbehaving moustache (wisely removed and replaced with a hastily drawn on version for his second and subsequent appearances on stage) and a dyspeptic inability to control his own  bodily movements (much less a band of macho rebels) Gary brought something otherworldly to the role which had to be seen to be believed. Suffice to say, with revolutionaries like this knocking about in 1970s Spain, it’s little wonder that Generalissimo Franco enjoyed almost 40 years of uninterrupted dictatorial authority.

As well as bringing chippy left-winger Mr Mash to the stage - glossing over a cheap and not especially cheerful cameo as Mr Grace - Robin Brown came into his own as Don Bernado, proprietor of the one star hotel where the cast spend Act Two. I enjoyed his version of the wily hotelier and he brought an added dimension to a very ‘2D’ role, giving the strongest performance of Act Two for me. Following hot on his heels, Rachel Hanratty gave excellent value as Conchita, the hotel helpmate who was every inch the sultry señorita with a lip-smacking accent thrown in for good measure. Also doubling up as both the nurse wielding a particularly nasty syringe and a fiery flamenco dancer, young Jaime T Ball gave a couple of sturdy performances and Sarah Nolan came into her own as one of befuddled Caesar’s revolutionary band in the second half.

If the set for Grace Brothers in the first act was a little lacklustre, Don Bernardo’s Palace was certainly an improvement and the row of tents were perfectly pitched to facilitate the farcical comings and goings which lead on from the comically misinterpreted ‘Dear Sexy Knickers’ note which is passed around - inevitably - to all the wrong people. With a misleading passport photograph (Mrs Slocombe’s head atop Raquel Welch’s - remember her?! - body) Mr Humphries’ winning way at cobbling together a drag disguise from a couple of balloons and Mrs Slocombe’s evening wig, a large and excitable foreign furry creature intent on bothering Brits abroad (thank goodness for Brexit) and the build-up to a comical sequence of humorous misunderstandings to round off the evening was guaranteed. The staging and blocking worked well in helping the narrative along and the exploding toilet in the revolutionary finale was particularly nicely done. The cast’s costumes were particularly fine across the board and gave a real flavour of the 1970s and stage lighting gave an accurate contrast between the drab London store and the more exotic climes of Spain. 

To return to the rather mournful sentiments of the opening paragraph however... I did feel that the undoubted best efforts of all concerned resulted in a less than wholly successful end result. Is it the case that the catalogue of innuendos and knockabout nonsense which categorise the best of ‘Are You Being Served?’ and give it its own particular magic doesn’t translate to the stage? Could it be that without Mollie Sugden, John Inman and Wendy Richard et al, the outré innuendos fall flat when issuing forth from other mouths? For me, I think that the answer probably lies in my deep seated dislike of stage adaptations of familiar TV favourites, which is terribly unfair on the happy band at the Drama Club! The inevitable result is always a paler than pale imitation of the original where the performers on stage always seem to having a rather self indulgent time to no great purpose, other than to remind the audience of how their best efforts can never really match up to any fond memories of the original. We are inevitably left with a simulacrum which, unless approached with an attitude of out and out pastiche and turned into a very different beast altogether is always going to be slightly disappointing. 

Blackburn Drama Club certainly pulled out all the stops in an attempt to bring a little bit of innocent fun and laughter to the stage and despite my grumblings, a good sized audience certainly found much to admire and applaud in the production. My thanks go to all involved in bringing the show to the stage and I look forward to the next offering from this talented bunch.

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