Yes, emboldened by global success, oh alright then, by my success in the 100-seat Mary Wallace Theatre in Twickenham in the role of Lucio (see my earlier post), I was conned into my next role by the very attractive lady secretary of the club who assured me, darling, that I was just so, so right for another huge but desirable role. I was still very new to the club so I didn't like to ask why, if it was so desirable, that they didn't have actors queuing at the stage door? No, no, I was told with great sincerity (later I learned that she was an exceedingly accomplished actress in her own right!), the role could have been written for me.
Well, what could I do? I accepted and then bought a copy of the script to find out that the hero I was so right to play was Barney Cashman, a middle-aged, married dope desperately trying to get the hang of the sexual revolution before he was too old. The play was written in 1969 by one of the great American playwrights, Neil Simon. I think if you asked me why I still love America I would answer that it's because they have been making me laugh since the old black-and-white Laurel & Hardy films. At the time, late '80s, Neil Simon was simply the latest in a long line. Alas, the play is now somewhat dated but I hope that after a few more decades it will come back to be appreciated again.
Barney is a decent married man who runs a fish restaurant. Throughout the play there is a running gag about his worry that his hands smell of fish and might ruin his attempted love life. He courted his wife when she was sixteen and they married and now they have three children. Alas, at the age of 47 he realises that everyone except him is getting off on the sexual revolution and he is desperate to have an exciting affair. Unfortunately, he is such a cheap 'schmuk' that he uses his mother's apartment during the day when she is out working. His first try is with a very tough 'Noo Yawk' lady he picked up in his restaurant and who eats men for breakfast! Poor Barney is hopelessly out-gunned and the assignation ends in disaster.
His second try is with Elaine 'Bobbi' Navazio who is best described as a young, er, 'actress/singer/dancer/mod-el'! She is a complete 'ditzy' and was played superbly by this young woman whose name, I am ashamed to say, has vanished from my memory. She really was an excellent young actress but so nervous that Stage Management had to push her on stage at the opening.
Bobbi inhabits a sub-world so different from anything poor Barney has experienced that it might as well have been Mars. Here is part of the dialogue:
Bobbi: If I don't get a show in New York I may do a series of one-night concerts in New Zealand [takes out some photos] - I just wanted to show you some stills from this movie I was in so you'll believe I'm really an actress. That's me on location in Malibu. And these are the stars, Frankie Avalon, Annette Funicello, and the Beach Boys.
Barney: Oh, yes.
Bobbi: It was a cute picture. They used the basic story of 'Wuthering Heights' and worked in surf riders.
[...]
Bobbi: [Picks up the phone and listens] Can you believe this?
Barney: Who are you calling?
Bobbi: My answering service! At least, she promised she'd take messages for me. I have the worst damn luck with room-mates.
Barney: You live with someone now?
Bobbi: Heinrich Himmler. I can't afford my own place yet so in the meantime I'm living with this Nazi vocal teacher. She's not just German, she's actually Nazi. Wears black shirts, boots, the whole thing.
Barney: My God!
Bobbi: Great coach, though - if you don't mind being whipped.
Barney: You're not serious.
Bobbi: Oh, Wilhelmina Weirdo. She paid four hundred dollars to have a three inch scar put on her face. My suspicion is she's sexually - what's the word?
Barney: Aberrated?
Bobbi: No worse than that.
Barney: Worse than aberrated!
By now poor dumb Barney is teetering on a world he never knew existed. His Jewish, middle-class sensibilities are totally scrambled and thus his second attempt at infidelity ends in fiasco. By now, in some desperation, Barney tries his hand - with his wife's best friend - yeeeees, quite! - Jeanette Fisher. This has arisen as a result of a minor, very minor, flirtation at a recent party. Poor Barney gets it all wrong - again - because Jeanette is a manic depressive who is distraught over her husband's infidelities.
Well, at least I can remember the name of this actress, Mo Pompini, not least because she has remained a good friend. 'Barney the Schmuk', tries everything including an effort to appear 'mucho-macho' but everything he tries dissolves in Jeanette's non-stop tears.
Last of the Red Hot Lovers by Neil Simon is a diamond of a play. It plots the track of a 'wannabe' Lothario who, following a trio of disasters, realises that he is better off being true to himself - and to his wife. Along the way there is a superb script written by one of the funniest writers on Broadway. I was still close to 'corpsing' over some of the lines and 'business' even during the final run. I had two problems with the play. The first, which the attractive and seductive lady secretary failed to warn me, was that whoever played Barney was on stage for the entire play which was, in effect, a non-stop two-hander. No wonder I was the only sucker actor they could find! Second, there might have been a problem with the accent which had to be 'Noo Yawk' Jewish. Fortunately, whatever other failings I possess as an actor, I am quite good at mimicking other people's accents, thus, in developing Barney's I kept the late, great Walther Matthau in the front of my mind at all times!
There was one slightly unfortunate result of this colossal acting effort on my part - a few months later my hair began to fall out in large tufts! Thus, I shared the same fate as many young teen-age girls and late, middle-age ladies, the embarrassment of alopecia. Never mind, my next role as a super smooth MI5 officer meant that I was provided with a blond wig by one of the top theatrical wig-makers in the West End!
I am spending the day down Dorchester way tomorrow so you will have to wait until the evening for my definitive views on what looks like a romping win for the 'NOs' in Greece. My advice to Dave - beware the Greeks bearing anything!
"Yes, emboldened by global success"...can you furnish a photo of the globe? I have my bifocals ready for a work out.
Posted by: Whitewall | Sunday, 05 July 2015 at 22:38
David
It looks like your about to get hit with hair brush in the first picture. Is acting dangerous?
Posted by: Hank | Monday, 06 July 2015 at 03:59
You need a microscope, Whiters, to spot my 'global success'!
Acting with *me* is dangerous, Hank, because you can never be sure what's going to happen next - ask any of my leading ladies!
Posted by: David Duff | Monday, 06 July 2015 at 07:52
Slightly off topic but did you ever do Noises Off by Michael Frayne? That is one of my very few claims to anonymity as an enthusiastic amateur.
Posted by: Cuffleyburgers | Monday, 06 July 2015 at 11:57
'Cuffers', I can still vividly remember the first time I saw that play and I nearly sued them for split sides! Somehow, I just can't imagine amateurs taking on that play, it is hideously difficult. How did your version go?
Posted by: David Duff | Monday, 06 July 2015 at 18:10
I think the bit the punters most appreciated was when I fell down the stairs...
Posted by: Cuffleyburgers | Monday, 06 July 2015 at 21:47
Ah yes, I remember that bit - very tricky for 'ams' to pull off, I trust nothing was broken! Also, how did you manage the set 'swing around'?
Posted by: David Duff | Tuesday, 07 July 2015 at 08:08
As I recall it was cleverly constructed as symmetrical as possible and we just had a minimum of stuff to move on or off. It worked well enough.
It was in Tunisia in 1990. We had a German director and a cast of assorted wasters and alcoholics, played 3 nights only. Great fun.
Posted by: Cuffleyburgers | Tuesday, 07 July 2015 at 12:39
David, it's clear that your best side is the one that looks like Nigel Mansell.
Your other profile, in the second pic., looks like a dodgy second hand car dealer. Oh... Wait.
Posted by: Kevin B | Tuesday, 07 July 2015 at 12:41
"It was in Tunisia in 1990. We had a German director and a cast of assorted wasters and alcoholics, played 3 nights only."
That funny noise you heard was my mind boggling, 'Cuffers'.
Well spotted, Kevin!
Posted by: David Duff | Tuesday, 07 July 2015 at 12:49