Play: A Small Family Business

Yes, indeed. I was thinking of going to an Indian film tonight - The Lunchbox - that's getting terrific reviews. But I hadn't booked it, which left me open to the vagaries of the Time Out listings. Sure enough, it was plays, plays, plays with them when I checked yesterday. After checking the ones I couldn't get tickets for, and carefully considering some I decided weren't for me, I hit on A Small Family Business, playing at the National Theatre.

Checking the venue website for tickets, I discovered that the cheapest were gone (naturally) and the norm was £50. However, there were about two seats left in the circle for £28. Knowing that this is a venue whose shows often have tickets available on discount sites, I shopped around, but although a couple were selling top-price seats for about £41, mostly they were no cheaper than the National's own website for this show, and I wouldn't recommend them. Some were selling the £50 tickets for even more, despite the venue itself having plenty! Be careful.. I went with the venue, which had no booking fee, and only suggested a 5% voluntary donation, which I thought was very reasonable. Most places ask for 10%.

Of course, it always takes longer than expected to get there. Today, I had little to spare from 50 minutes. I decided to count the steps on the way up to the bridge - 23 to the landing, then another 21. Despite being in a slight hurry, and needing to go to the toilet, I had to stop for a photo..

 

 

Look closely at the bridge. What's that they say about buses all coming at once?!

 

Anyway, I entered the theatre building just as the bell went for the final call. Good job I'd checked which of the three theatres in this building the play was showing in - the Olivier. For once, I knew exactly where I was going! There are lifts to the Olivier, and you get your ticket from a kiosk at the theatre entrance, on Level 2, if you're within a certain time of the show start. This is better than queueing at the main box office - which had moved anyway, for building works. So I gratefully hopped in a lift, with a lady who was very anxious that she'd be late. And she with her ticket in hand! The employee in the lift - do they have lift operators now? - assured her that we had at least five minutes. Exit the lift, and the kiosk is just to your left. I soon had my ticket, but no time to visit the facilities, damnit! I decided I'd better head straight in. I soon found my row, but my brain deserted me and I entered from the wrong end, forcing a whole row of people to stand to let me pass. My apologies, folks - of course there was an aisle at the other end I could have used! I had time to sit, take off my coat, and get myself organised, but I wouldn't have had time to go to the toilet..

 

I can best describe the set as an enormous doll's house. Each act opens to the front of the house - an innocuous-looking, redbrick, two-storey, family home. Then the platform it's on swivels, and we get to see the back. Just like a doll's house, particularly so from my high vantage point, the back of the house is missing so you can see inside. There are, as I say, two storeys, with rooms leading off. We can see, upstairs, a bedroom with fitted wardrobes on one side, a bathroom on the other. A landing between leads to two other bedrooms that are hidden from us - we can just see the doors. A staircase leads to the lower level, where there's a kitchen on the right, with a service hatch opening into the dining room. Across the entrance hall, there's a living room, which is meant to have a wall separating it from the hall, but that's been left out.

 

The story opens on a surprise party for a fellow who's just quit his job to work for the family firm. This was actually the only scene that really didn't do it for me - the audience found it hilarious, I just found the humour a bit too obvious. But it soon improved. Turns out that he gets an awful shock, being a pillar of honesty himself, to discover that his family isn't so straight-laced as he would like.. the question is, how far will he allow himself to be pulled in their direction?

 

The theatre was mostly, but not completely, full, and I contemplated changing my seat to one of the £50 ones, but decided I was fine where I was and couldn't be bothered. The audience, as I say, was mostly appreciative, with the distinct exception of the teenage girl to my left, who had been dragged along by her parents - who enjoyed it much more - and who shook my seat with her leg-jiggling (accompanied by deep sighs), until she realised that she could play with her phone. Which was fine for the rest of the first act, but an usher caught her at it at the start of the second act and made her put it away. So it was back to the leg-jiggling and sighing. Even she, however, quieted down for the denouement!

 

A number of people - the person to my right included - remarked that it was very dated. I also read a review to the effect that it was a pity they saw fit to stage it in the 80s, when it was written, although it would have fitted in the present day. Well, they would have had to change more than the costumes, I think. And pardon me, but are we so removed that we can't appreciate something written in the 80s? The furnishings are certainly perfect for the period, and what's wrong with seeing something written in the 80s performed as though the characters are living in the 80s? As to the themes, they pretty much could translate to the present-day, which is what I take the criticism of a "dated" play to relate to. So no, in that sense, I don't think it's dated. I enjoyed it more than many a play I've seen, particularly in the National. Runs until August 27, and I recommend it for an enjoyable night out.

 

I managed to hold on until I got to the toilet at the interval, and then wandered off in search of something to eat. I haven't been this high in this building before, and was stunned by the view, although it was blocked by people sitting on the edge, snacking and drinking. And then I saw a door onto the balcony..

 

 

Ah now, isn't that lovely? St. Paul's gleaming white against the sparkling lights of the City.

 

Guildford tomorrow, I'll be too tired to get up to much after. And I might just get to The Lunchbox on Wednesday! Watch this space..