Royal Court, Roe Street
Friday 26th April to Saturday 11th May 2024
Reviewed by Richard Lewis
A landmark drama whose impact resonated decades after its initial broadcast on BBC2 in 1982, the enduring power of the Boys From The Blackstuff, has led to the play becoming televisual shorthand for the economic turbulence Liverpool and the nation at large experienced during the 1980s.
Establishing Alan Bleasdale as one of the foremost TV dramatists of the age, the screenwriter resisted all offers of adapting the play for the stage over the ensuing decades. The green light was secured however when Bleasdale was approached by James Graham, creator of highly acclaimed West End hits Dear England and Quiz and venerated TV crime drama Sherwood.
A true meeting of minds, Graham brings a contemporary perspective to the production which retains its original 1982 setting. The quintet of unemployed tarmac layers: Yosser Hughes, Chrissy Todd, Dixie Dean, George Malone, Loggo Logmond have to navigate the Kafka-esque loops of joblessness, signing on, being pursued by dole “sniffers” (undercover social security officers) and coping with all the severe emotional turmoil all of the above entails.
The initial spark for the mostly estranged friends and workers being brought back together is the funeral of building labourer Snowy Malone, killed in a fall attempting to escape the sniffers. Lined up across the stage to sign on, the quintet give their details in turn, supplying a potted biography of each individual.
Originally played by Michael Angelis, Chrissie represents Bleasdale’s alter ego to an extent, brought to life on stage in empathetic fashion by Nathan McMullen. If Chrissie is the everyman, frequently chided for being “too soft” before he eventually snaps in horrifying fashion, the fulcrum of the play is Yosser Hughes. Unforgettably portrayed by Bernard Hill, the character’s “Gizza job. Go on, gizzit” pleas remains one of the most famous catchphrases in British television.
Emulating his predecessor’s ultra-intense, barely supressed rage, Barry Sloane inhabits the character brilliantly, bringing a genuinely intimating edge to the role. Yosser’s tender dialogue with his children at points provides counterbalance, revealing another side to a man gone beyond the end of their tether.
Exploring the causes of the situation the characters find themselves in, Dixie Dean’s moonlighting turn as a security guard at the docks, includes a discussion about the city’s industrial strife due to containerisation and the decline of Transatlantic trade which found Liverpool “facing the wrong way”.
Playing the lead character from what used to be called the DHSS, Helen Carter brings worldliness and dry wit to the role of Miss Sutcliffe, the section supervisor who sees the bigger picture of workers being exploited, particularly by unscrupulous building boss Malloy. Other moments of levity are supplied by the Dalek-voiced counter assistant’s clashes with Loggo, played with devil-may-care charm by Aron Julius. Where Loggo remains sane by dispensing witticisms, Yosser prefers to dole out headbutts, with the play climaxing in a superbly choreographed motion fight sequence, courtesy of movement director Rachel Nanyonjo.
Nailing the now vanished early version of the Scouse accent, where the dialects of Irish, Welsh and Lancastrian combined, Philip Whitchurch is excellent as the ailing George Malone. His ill health exacerbated by the death of his son Snowy, as community linchpin, psychiatrist, agony uncle and general oracle, George rages against the dying of the light as the rigid certainties of the world he grew up in: the docks, the church, a job for life have crumbled.
Moving along a brisk clip, director Kate Wasserberg keeps the action moving swiftly, Amy Jane Cook’s set design of cranes and gantries complementing the action perfectly. Video designer Jamie Jenkin especially deserves high praise, creating impressionistic monochrome visuals of the Mersey, the declining docks and the decrepit buildings. The sequence of Snowy falling through the air is heightened by a bravura screen effect.
Beyond the Liverpool run – its current iteration being the second after the initial performances sold out instantly – the production transfers to the National Theatre and beyond to the Garrick in the West End. A bracing, uncompromising, gut-punch of a play alternately harrowing and tender, tough and humourous, this new production is every bit as powerful as the venerated original. 5/5