CLATTERING about the set of Gregory Motton's new play, A Message for the Broken Hearted, are the sort of curtains that, in hospital wards, are swiftly whisked around anything that is sickening, unsightly, or dead. Tricky to account for on any naturalistic level, these drapes would, it strikes one as the evening progresses, be hard to improve on as a succinct piece of theatre criticism. . Paul Taylor Independant |
"its obscurity prevents you from attacking with confidence the moral unpleasantness it seems vaguely to transmit..." |
Another Change Of Course (an article by Hannah Glickstein with additional material by H. Sharp) Never content with having found a formula Motton, who achieved sudden and early success with Ambulance, left it all behind with the surreal and unwieldy Downfall, knowingly titled. Then took a complete about turn into a kind of simple offbeat lyricism with Looking At You( revivied) Again, and got royally slated for it, though the play was instantly transfered to London from Leicester, and was soon a huge hit in Paris. Before the British critics or audiences had time to catch up, he took another turn, a departure into yet another unfamiliar territory. Motton started A Message for the Broken Hearted in 1991, a week after finishing Looking At You Revived Again, in 1991, the two plays were worlds apart, you could hardly guess they were by the same writer.It was the deliberate oppostie of his fluent and poetic style, "my new technique, for this play, was to reject every line that came into my head and write another one. It took ages, it was the hardest thing I had written" It wasn't performed until 1993, when after being rejected by Lindsay Posner at the Royal Court. He didn't like the personal turn Motton's writing had taken. He had once been a champion of Motton's work at the Royal Court. This was indeed a new departure, couldn't be more different from the wild circus atmopshpere of the kalaidescopic of Downfall, that Posner had last directed. Posner confessed himself embarrassed by the nakedness of the emotional squalor of the play. "I think Lindsay didn't like the idea of one man between two women", says Motton, "he was afraid it might be an outburst of vanity on my part. Nothing could have been further from the truth, as the play itself shows. The man was certainly not a hero, he was a failure. It's painful to watch". Certainly the difficult and disjointed and hard to deliver dialogue showed that he had made it difficult for himself. This was no easy ride. It was about as far as you could get from the platitudes of TV dialogue that was around then dominating the stage. This wasn't stage language, it was language as it was spoken, by remarkable and unremarkable people, not middle class, intelligent while being crude and neurotic at the same time. This was real life thrown onto the stage as no-one else was doing it. Motton was in this play as ever, a complete outsider, it was still as if written by someone with no familiarity with the rules and practices of stagecraft. It was completely original. It horrified critics and managements alike. It was taken up by the Liverpool Playhouse, by Ramin Gray who was directing a season of "new writing" there. After two plays at the Royal Court, one at the Riverside and one at the Leicester and the Bush, within the space of 3 years, Motton hardly counted as new writing , but since it was now 2 years since he had a play on, he maybe could count as rediscovered writing, or perhaps new again writing, or even born again writing. The basic set up of A Message For the Broken Hearted was certainly a long way from Ambulance, since for the first time, Motton's play had characters who lived in a house, with even a garden. Within a couple of years a Swedish production had inexplicably taken these characters and put them back into the laundrette where they thought they belonged. Indeed Ramin Gray when he first read the play, had thought in the light of Motton's track record that the play must be about a slum. In reality it was only a slum of the mind. The critical response was as usual one of mystified outrage; when it was brought down to Battersea Arts Centre, this miserable little production was hailed by many who saw it as the best thing they had ever seen. It was the first of a few very successful and happy collaborations in directing between Gregory Motton and Ramin Gray. The original cast was: Kevin McMonagle, Rose Keegan, Samantha Holland, Morris Perry. Set design by Nigel Prabhavalkar, music by Lawrence Muspratt |