Terence Rattigan’s Table Number Seven is a shocking reminder of the normalised homophobia which existed in the summer of 1954, the Sexual Offences Act only decriminalising homosexuality in 1967.
So a revisiting of his play, the first in a double bill of the famous playwright’s work at Oxford Playhouse this week, made for uncomfortable viewing, despite its sympathetic vantage point. But in this era of Trumpism, when being gay is illegal in so many parts of the world, gave us an insight at least into our own darker days.
Interestingly, the sold out audience was largely made up of those who might remember both those dates, and I wondered what they made of it as Mrs Railton Bell (played so wonderfully sanctimoniously by Dame Sian Phillips) uncovered the ‘wicked’ and ‘disgusting’ secrets of Major Pollock, a fellow guest in a Bournemouth boarding house, as he is arrested for importuning men on the esplanade.
this revisiting is in fact a faithful adaption of Rattigan’s original intent which gives it more authenticity in the face of his own fear of discrimination
Her kangaroo court, bent on throwing him out on the street, is only thwarted when the Major comes clean, accepting his own ‘immorality’ and deciding to face the music by staying put rather than escaping.
It’s only when his fellow residents come together to support the major, that at least a modicum of faith in humanity is restored, our ability to flip between abject cruelty and immense kindness palpable.
Pertinent then that when Table Number Seven debuted in 1954, Rattigan changed the script to depict Major Pollock harassing women, rather than picking up men, worried of the ramifications on his own sexuality. So this revisiting is in fact a faithful adaption of his original intent.
The Browning Version was an altogether more tender and less distressing play, as teacher Andrew Crocker-Harris, played so brilliantly by Nathanial Parker (who also played the beaten Major Pollock) prepares to retire.
‘What Rattigan does so brilliantly with his acutely observed, humorous, social commentary, is brazenly crack open the implacable male facade during the era of the ever present stiff upper lip’
His replacements arrive to take over with beaming enthusiasm, in stark contrast to Crocker-Harris’ own tired, defeated demeanour. The fact that his wife Millie (played so bitterly by Lolita Chakrabarti) has long since fallen out of love with him and is conducting an affair right under his nose, seems by-the-by.
That he has become something of a push-over is also evident as the headmaster removes The Croc’s pension, ensuring a life of penury, and demotes him from the end of term speeches. Seemingly despised by his wife, employees and indeed pupils, we ask how such a brilliant classicist could have got so lost?
But then comes a ray of light; fifth former Taplow is sent to do detention and inadvertently reveals to fellow teacher Frank Hunter (the affable Jeremy Neumark Jones) that The Croc is indeed much revered, providing the catalyst that enables Crocker-Harris to start fighting back.
Again it’s Rattigan’s rallying of forces against pious bullies that prove such a winning combination, providing The Croc with a chance of reigniting his previous fervour, and replacing his despondency with action. No more misplaced stoicism here.
What Rattigan does so brilliantly with his acutely observed, humorous, social commentary, is brazenly crack open the implacable male facade during the era of the ever present stiff upper lip, before repackaging it and leaving us with hope for the future.
What that future is depends now more on us than him. Food for thought indeed.
SUMMER 1954 is at OXFORD PLAYHOUSE from Tuesday 11 to Saturday 15 February. Book here: https://www.oxfordplayhouse.com/events/summer-1954-table-number-7-the-browning-version
