|
|
 |
| |
Robert Hands plays the idealist Bill |
European farce
THE SCHUMAN PLAN
Hampstead Theatre by TOM FOOT
ROBERT Schuman’s plan was to stabilise political hostilities
in post-war Europe by uniting the French and German coal and
steel industries, a concept that led to the European Economic
Community (EEC) and in turn the European Union (EU).
Although named after the French Prime Minister (1947-8), the
Schuman Plan was drafted by Jean Monnet – deputy secretary-general
of the League of Nations and personal aide to General de Gaulle
during the war.
Playwright Tim Luscombe charts Britain’s part in creating
the common market, in particular Tory Prime Minister Ted Heath’s
notorious Common Fisheries Policy – not the sexiest subject
it must be said.
A typical line: “Yes but I do not pretend to support the
CFP, the CAP or MAFF. I support the EU but I wish people would
stop calling it Europe.”
Drowning in a sea of acronyms – the glossary in the programme
notes adequately suspending disbelief – I felt myself drifting
helplessly into sleep. But this is part of the point.
Through the idealist visions of civil servant Bill (Robert Hands),
the audience is parched at the interval, only to come out wondering
why a history so life-changing, culture shaping, and ultimately
self-imploding can at the same time be so earth-shatteringly
dull.
The duality has clearly rankled with the playwright and is evident
throughout. The badly informed local journo, smacked in the
face by a national story as the Ipswich fishing community goes
under, knowing her readers, is reluctant to report. Her indifference
reflects a nation’s apathy to the “European question.”
Even Bill’s sex scene lacked a certain rhythm.
The Schuman Plan is a modern day tragedy. A story of a man who
trudges from optimism to reality, broken by the capitalist system,
he returns to his fishing town roots only to destroy them, hobbling
off stage a wretched and disconsolate old man.
Ted Heath’s (Simon Robson) attacks on Margaret Thatcher,
“That bloody woman – she’s turned me into the
Trotsky of the Tory party,” were hilarious and despite
some debatable East Anglian accents, the fisherman did their
troubled trade proud.
Bill’s confrontation with the Italian Mafia drew a burst
of spontaneous applause.
Like a dose of Night Nurse, powerful, provoking sleep, but ultimately
good for the head.
Until March 3
020 7722 9304 |
|
|
|
