1 RICHARD BEAN
Eckart Voigts-Virchow
Toast; Under the Whaleback; Smack Family Robinson; The God Botherers; Honeymoon Suite; Harvest; England People Very Nice
Introduction
It is not just because his origins are less than glamorous that Hull-born playwright Richard Bean (born in 1956) appears as the odd man out among successful British playwrights of the past decade. When he was awarded the George Devine Award in 2002 and hailed as a young, up-and-coming playwright, he pointed out the irony in his acceptance speech that a forty-six-year-old playwright was still referred to as âyoungâ.1 The son of a policeman and a hairdresser, Beanâs upbringing was lower-middle-class and his Hull-based plays reflect the experience of tattooed north-eastern working-class masculinity, from the eighteen months he worked in a bread plant after school in Toast (Royal Court, 1999) to the fishermen in Under the Whaleback (Royal Court, 2003), the inmates in a 1976 prison riot in Up on Roof (Hull Truck, 2006) or, more recently, the pub quiz team in recession-hit Hull in Pub Quiz is Life (Hull Truck, 2009). He has admitted that his plays focus very much on male camaraderie, but also claims that his subsequent education â he studied social psychology at Loughborough University in the 1970s and worked as an occupational psychologist for a telephone company in the 1980s â has changed his attitudes towards gender issues:
My life has been a blokey life. I went to a boysâ school, I played a lot of sports, all very blokey. Then I went to university, and became a born-again feminist.2
Bean came to the performing arts erratically and almost without prior grooming through his work as a stand-up comedian in the late 1980s and early 1990s, and after he won a drama competition at a night class at Middlesex University. Subsequently, he worked as writer and performer for the Writers Guild-nominated BBC radio sketch comedy Control Group Six and wrote the libretto for Terence McNeffâs opera Paradise for Fools (Canal CafĂ©, 1995). Several years after his first full-length play Of Rats and Men (Canal CafĂ©, 1992), Beanâs debut success was Toast. Since then, Bean has produced plays at a steady rate, winning the George Devine Award for Under the Whaleback and the Pearson Award for Best New Play for Honeymoon Suite in 2002 as well as the Criticsâ Circle Best New Play Award for Harvest (Royal Court, 2005), with three volumes of collected plays in print and no sign of diminishing activities. With the grand, if controversial, success of England People Very Nice (National Theatre, 2009), it seems that he has finally delivered on the promise of the Monsterists group that he co-founded (with Moira Buffini, David Eldridge, Colin Teevan, Roy Williams and Sarah Woods) in 2002. According to Aleks Sierz, the âMonsterists, a group of writers determined to change the landscape of new writingâ, sought to âpromote new writing of large-scale work in the British theatreâ, to liberate new writing âfrom the ghetto of the studio black box to the main stageâ, and demanded âequal access to financial resources for a play being produced by a living writerâ.3 Taking their name from a portmanteau word (âmonsterâ, large, and âmontrerâ, to show), the Monsteristsâ plea to open the main stages for their âbigâ plays was nourished under Nicholas Hytnerâs reign at the National Theatre.
Beanâs early work is best described as kitchen-sink comedy with a firm regional north-eastern footing. His farcical, occasionally pitch-black workplace comedies Toast, Under the Whaleback and Harvest reminded critics of the kitchen-sinks of David Storey and Arnold Wesker; these âworkâ plays established Bean as a chronicler of industrial bread plants, Hull trawlers and east Yorkshire pig farms. While he keeps returning to less than flattering portrayals of working-class prejudice as well as resilience, more recent plays have proved Bean to be far more versatile than just that. His dramatic repertoire has considerably expanded, for instance, to foul-mouthed and sharp-edged farces such as Smack Family Robinson (Live Theatre, Newcastle upon Tyne, 2003) and In the Club (Hampstead Theatre, 2007) that invite comparison with Monty Python and Joe Orton. In the Club, a Strasbourg-set Eurosceptic farce, toured Britain in 2008. Interestingly, it received large-scale transfers in other Eurosceptic countries such as Slovenia and Denmark.4 A play such as Honeymoon Suite suggested the influence of Alan Ayckbournâs stagecraft, while the two-hander The Mentalists (National Theatre, 2002) analysed the warped male psyche in almost âabsurdistâ fashion as âa deliberate homage to Pinterâs The Dumb Waiterâ.5
His latest projects for autumn 2010, The Big Fellah, a new play focusing on New York IRA supporters, for veteran director Max Stafford-Clarkâs touring company Out of Joint, and a stage adaptation of David Mametâs film House of Cards for the Almeida Theatre, are both set in urban America and prompted Bean to reflect in his e-mail announcement on being pigeonholed as a regional British working-class dramatist: âI promise that there will be more plays set in East Hull in the near future.â6The God Botherers (Bush Theatre, 2003), a play about the absurdities of relief work set in the fictional African country Tambia, paved Beanâs way towards his more recent England People Very Nice (National Theatre, 2009), his highly controversial, large-scale dismissal of multiculturalism on the large Olivier stage of the National Theatre. Both The God Botherers and England People Very Nice expose the absurdities of radical multiculturalism and appear to be the work of a pro-Israeli assimilationist. This is diametrically opposed to the pro-Palestinian political sentiments of Caryl Churchill (Seven Jewish Children, 2009), David Hare (Via Dolorosa, 1999; Berlin/Wall, 2009) or Katherine Viner/Alan Rickman (My Name is Rachel Corrie, 2005), prompting Jewish theatre critic John Nathan to call Bean â[t]he only prominent British playwright who is prepared to challenge left-wing orthodoxyâ.7 Plays such as Harvest or England People Very Nice and titles such as Mr England (Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, 2000) or The English Game (Headlong, 2008) are indicative of Beanâs aspiration to create theatre on a grand scale and to write âstate-of-the-nationâ farces in ways vastly different from the âplaywright laureateâ David Hare.8 Interestingly, his parochial comic epics on Englishness do not seem to invite continental transfers.
The Plays
Toast (1999)
Written in 1997 and having been sent as an unsolicited script to several theatres, it took two years for Beanâs second play Toast to arrive at the Royal Court, where it opened on 12 February 1999. Jack Bradley has recalled how Beanâs script travelled from a recommendation by his assistant, who happened to keep score for Beanâs cricket team, via an arduous reading process to the Royal Court Upstairs at the New Ambassadors in 1999.9 Originally entitled Wonderloaf, the title had to be changed after the owner of the brand name threatened litigation. The play, directed by Richard Wilson, was well received by the critics as âone of the most truly original comedies of the late Ninetiesâ, firmly within the tradition of socialist stage realism.10 Having seen a revival of David Storeyâs The Changing Room at the Royal Court, Bean had the idea to set his play in the canteen of a Hull bakery threatened by closure in 1975. In terms of structure, the play is simple â a cast of seven in a unified, linear plot, covering a single day in a single, naturalistically designed setting, with an ending that brings closure. Clocks in the minutely outlined stage design mark the short gaps in between the scenes from a dayâs shift. The all-male playâs focus is on middle-aged, unskilled labourers in the throes of industrial food production. Having been pushed around from a dying industry (fishing) to the next in the post-industrial decline of northern England in the 1970s and 1980s, the men depend on their oven to keep working and prevent the imminent closure of the plant. The daily routines are â just as in the nineteenth-century âindustrialâ literature â governed by service to the machine. As one of the workers says, âWe work a six-day week. Nights is three till finish. Finish can be anywhere between eleven at night to three inât morningâ (p. 28). The thudding of the industrial bread plant oven is incessant and the scenario of male relations is harsh, peppered by cruel jokes and aggressive pranks. Men such as Dezzie or Cecil are on the brink â pressed for money, fatigued by years of monotonous work, always in danger of being stripped of masculine pride and under pressure from their wives and partners. Workersâ solidarity is tested by rivalry for the job of chargehand and by the demands of the management. The action is propelled to a crisis when the emotionally unstable âstudentâ Lance appears as âflierâ (invariably called âspare wankâ, p. 23) and the oven gets jammed. This is a major crisis as any loss of bread orders is likely to result in imminent closure and permanent joblessness. In the dĂ©nouement, it turns out that one of the workers, Colin, intentionally jammed the oven in order to put the blame on the chargehand Blakey. Working-class boys need not be noble painters manquĂ© (Lee Hall, The Pitman Painters, 2007); in this play, they are more likely to be nasty, sexist, ex-convict bullies.
Under the Whaleback (2003)
The award-winning Under the Whaleback clearly expands the scale of the work play formula Bean had found in Toast. When he adapted this conception of interrogating male camaraderie to a group of Hull trawlermen for the Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, Richard Wilsonâs production â which opened on 10 April 2003 â garnered almost unanimously positive reviews. Among accolades ranging from âtough, harrowing but beautifulâ (John Peter), âsubtly engrossingâ (Kate Bassett) and âenthrallingâ (Nicholas de Jongh) to âthrilling, savagely funny and deeply affectingâ (Charles Spencer), Michael Billington praised it as âimpressive in its sense of lived experienceâ.11 As a play that illustrates the impact of neoconservative economic policies on male working-class communities it probably needed this kind of support. It could hardly be expected to court either West End success or celebrity attention, as Bean himself concedes:
These days, I suppose producers think audiences expect a West End play to mean witty lines delivered by Ralph Fiennes â they donât want five tattooed Hull trawler-men dying.12
Both Paul Miller and Charles Spencer noted the influence of Eugene OâNeillâs one-act sea plays, but Bean introduced a three-act structure set on the eponymous bow deck (âunder the whalebackâ) of three different trawlers in 1965, 1972 and, finally, 2002, when fishing has deteriorated to a museum piece and the harrowing storm of the central act has been replaced with a jaded loop tape. Separated thirty years from a harrowing accident of the auspiciously named James Joyce, the plot sees this pale simulation of trawler life disrupted by Pat, who seeks revenge for the death of his father on the seaman-turned-museum guard, Darrel. Having his hand nailed to the table by Pat, Darrel explains that Pat is the offspring from his motherâs affair with his fatherâs mate. This revelation equals Darrelâs own earlier conflict with the âmythicâ old reprobate Cassidy, who claims he has âfatheredâ Darrel. Darrel survived the sinking of the James Joyce by putting on the âduck suitâ given to him by Cassidy â so at least in this sense he indeed becomes an ersatz father to Darrel, who comes to accept his role as Cassidyâs surrogate son. Cassidy and the tall tales that surround him epitomise the male pride and tradition of seamanship, of forcefully and tragically fighting the elements. At the same time he is part of a legacy of sad brutality â which finally emerges in Darrelâs story of how Cassidy killed his twin sons as he did not want them to die at sea the way his own fathers died. Darrel is precariously positioned in the crossfire of this transition from the tragic hei...