And Did Those Feet – Theatre review
From clog-dancing kick-off to grandstand finish, Bolton Octagon's riveting revival of writers Les Smith and Martin Thomasson's play takes us on a swerving run through a slice of working-class life in1920s Bolton.
Bolton born, bred and buttered, and Trotters (Bolton Wanderers) fans all their lives, the writers draw from what they know to create this play, winner of best new play in the Manchester Evening News Theatre awards during its previous, 2007 run.
Like any match, it has its highs and lows, but coach/director Mark Babych’s team ensures it is a tight performance worthy of any cup-tie. Which is just as well, given that that is the device the writers use to present their themes. Against the backdrop of Bolton’s cup run of that auspicious season, the action comes in short bursts of filmic scenes, linked like near-pitch-perfect passes of a team on a winning streak; and taking the capacity crowd with them.
Laughter passes to war, love centres to loss, poverty dribbles round religion, politics and working-class solidarity, before putting the ball in the back of the net at the new Wembley. No, the firstnew Wembley.
So many themes, and no extra time: A mountain to climb, so we are grateful to have Martin Barrass’s Bob as our guide. Once he settles into his pace he is off, following the Wanderers’ cup-seeking fortunes, on foot the whole way – every away game - even as far as London. Being self-employed he is likely to be one of few able to take time off though, ironically, probably the one who can most afford the fare. Is he a nod perhaps to the Paul Graneys of that time, the thousands of returning heroes forced to take to the road in search of work during the 1920s?
The post-great-war context provides perhaps the most poignant cameos, with my man-of-the-match, Huw Higginson’s evocation of Alf grieving for son, Billy, killed in the trenches. Chris Wootton mesmerises as the dead hero, the actor’s surname, coincidentally, reminding us of the play’s contemporary echoes. His entrance, bouncing the football, brilliantly echoing the rat-tat gunfire, and counterpoint to the celebratory rattles on the football terraces.
It is a shame that not all the tragic elements are as strong. You cannot rely on dialogue alone to convey the reality of the truly shocking poverty and hunger of post-Great-war Britain, as this production seems to attempt. You can tell if someone is hungry by how they react to the sight of food. Jim is in dire straits, out of work, yet pecks politely at a sandwich Bob shares with him, and neither man finishes it! A sitter missed.
Then there’s the wardrobe malfunction. This lot are clearly too poor to afford a change of clothes and are reduced to heading off to t’mill in their Sunday best. Perhaps the Octagon needs a kit sponsor?
And the unearned reversals: Jim is such an implausible firebrand communist that his renunciation surprises absolutely no-one, not even Jim. Martha drops God in favour of a trip to Wembley. Come on, ref!
But, minor quibbles. It is early in the season. This is an excellent production of a cracking script and a great evening’s entertainment with some moving performances. Having witnessed so many magnificent Octagon productions recently – not least the recent superb Midsummer Night’s Dream - I am sure it will go on to be yet another winner for the Bolton team. Go and see it, then argue with me here.
Julian Jordon
And Did Those Feet
By Les Smith and Martin Thomasson
Director: Mark Babych
Bolton Octagon
To 10th April, 2010
Booking 01204 520661
