| one_man__two_guvnors.rtf |
One Man, Two Guvnors - Introduction
Welcome to this introduction to One Man, Two Guvnors - based on Carlo Goldini’s 18th century classic comedy, The Servant of Two Masters. The play has been written by Richard Bean and directed for The National Theatre by Nicholas Hytner.
The performance lasts for approximately two hours and thirty minutes - including an interval of 20 minutes.
There now follows information about One Man Two Guvnors which includes some background to the play, descriptions of the set, characters and costumes, and a list of cast and production credits. This will be followed by some additional useful information and contact details.
One Man Two Guvnors was inspired by Carlo Goldoni’s 18th century classic comedy, A Servant of Two Masters. Richard Bean’s play has transferred the characters to 1960’s Brighton, picking up on the outrageous comic style of British films of the period like the ‘Carry on’ series, bawdy and barmy, flamboyant and physical, like the much earlier Commedia dell Arte.
For this production the stage has been transformed into a 1960’s Odeon-type theatre. Framing the stage are pale blue glittering tiles, and tapering gold topped columns on either side, picked out in tiny lights. Three microphone stands are set in the middle of the stage, with a double bass propped up on its side on the left hand. Just behind them, a backcloth has been painted to look like orange curtains.
The performance begins with a skiffle band, that also entertains between scene changes, their lyrics introducing the next part of the action. They are The Craze, four young men with dark hair slicked back in a wave. They wear dark purple suits with drainpipe trousers and jackets, fastened with a single button. The lead singer plays guitar. There’s a second guitarist, a double bass player and a fourth lad plays drums and washboard.
There are eleven main characters and several walk-on parts.
The music ends, and removal men and women in drab brown coats and cloth caps bring in two red-upholstered armchairs. These are placed at the front, angled slightly to face us, with a side table beside the left hand chair. The chairs form part of the living room of a Brighton gangster, Charlie, ‘The Duck’ Clench and his "laaavely daugh’er", Pauline.
Charlie is a retired gangster. In his fifties, Charlie’s chunky physique indicates a man who can take care of himself in a fight. His short brown hair is slicked back with Brylcreem and there’s the faintest hint of menace in his pugnacious demeanour. Charlie wears a suit patterned with wide blue and grey vertical stripes with a white shirt and a maroon tie.
Charlie’s beloved daughter Pauline is 18 years old and is the dumbest of blondes, her hair held back under a white Alice band and flicked up at the neck, rigid with hairspray. She has a heart shaped face and her blue eyes are constantly wide with wonder, her coral-lipsticked mouth a little open in an ‘oh’. Pauline’s white dress is patterned with enormous red flowers and has a scoop neck, tiny sleeves, and the skirt belled out over a stiff petticoat from a hand-span waist.
The orange backcloth lifts to reveal a high ceilinged living-room with a tall narrow bay window at the back, with green patterned curtains almost reaching the floor. The window gives a view of rows of elegant but rather run-down four-storey Regency houses leading down to the sea. There’s a door in each side wall of the room, close to us. The door on the left leads off to the front door, while that on the right leads to other parts of the house. These doors remain in situ throughout the play, changing their function with each scene change.
The room is decorated in 1960’s wallpaper, a beige background with large black and white circles the size of dinner plates. In the bay of the window a table is laden with the paraphernalia of a rather half-hearted party, champagne glasses and a plate of pineapple chunks and cheese rammed on to cocktail sticks. A wooden chair stands either side of the table.
To the left of the bay window is a small bookcase holding ornaments, some family photos and tattered books. Hanging on the wall above this is a print of Annigoni’s portrait of the young Queen Elizabeth II. She’s gazing into the distance, wearing a midnight blue velvet cloak adorned with the silver and diamond star of the Order of the Garter.
Guests at the party are associates of Charlie, and Pauline’s fiancé Alan Dangle. Alan’s in his early twenties, an aspiring actor, tall and slim with thick dark, hair, a floppy fringe and a pale, sensitive face. He reaches forward into deep lunges, flinging his arms about in outrageously dramatic gestures. Alan’s dressed entirely in black with a polo-necked sweater and leather jacket. His drainpipe trousers accentuate his long legs and his black shoes are extremely pointed.
Harry Dangle, his father, is Charlie’s solicitor. Harry’s a huge man, dapper and faintly sleazy in spite of the expensive, handmade, black pinstripe suit buttoned across his ample stomach. Harry’s black hair is thinning and swept back from his fleshy face. His heavily-browed eyes are narrowed and wily. He wears heavy sideburns and a goatee beard.
Charlie has an old friend, Lloyd Boateng. Also retired from a criminal career, he’s now proud owner and chef of a popular pub in Brighton, The Cricketer’s Arms. A little younger than Charlie, Lloyd’s black – he’s from Trinidad - tall and slim with a shaved head and a cheery smile. At the outset, Lloyd wears a cream suit with faint grey pin-stripes, buttoned up to high lapels, but later appears in a chef’s white jacket.
Dolly works for Charlie, and is bossy and busty. In her early twenties she is sparky and up for it, giving us a wide, scarlet lipsticky grin over her shoulder, her big dark eyes twinkling. Dolly’s shapely figure is encased in a brown checked pencil skirt, enhancing her curvaceous hips. She wears a plain white blouse with a green embroidered cardigan draped over her shoulders. The highlights in her black beehive catch the light as she wiggles enticingly on her white stilettos.
A cocky young gangster named Roscoe comes looking for Charlie. Roscoe is suspi-ciously petite and turns out to be Rachel Crabbe, Roscoe’s twin sister in disguise. Rachel is in her twenties and has an oval face and fierce brown eyes. A wide brimmed trilby hat is perched on her short, dark brown hair. She strides about in her shiny, silver grey suit, white shirt and narrow blue tie, hands in pockets, speaking in a gruff snarl in an effort to appear manly.
She’s accompanied by Francis Henshall, who’s cheeky and chubby. He’s about 30, out of a job and hungry, sitting bunched up in his brown check, tweed jacket and matching waistcoat. His trousers are mismatched in a larger brown check and too short – fighting shy of his Pringle socks, with a brown and blue diamond pattern and his tan lace-up shoes. His short dark hair is going thin. Francis has a mischievous glint in his brown eyes. His expression can turn from puppyish pleading to impish glee in a moment, his grin wide and infectious.
The action moves outside to where the Regency houses line the road. In the distance an unpromising grey sky hangs over a grey sea. On the right, close to us, is the Cricketers – the pub owned by Lloyd Boateng. It has a Victorian exterior with a green painted lower storey and cream painted columns, and a single window above. A bench outside faces us with several pint glasses on it containing murky dregs. To its right a door leads into the pub, with a battered dustbin beside it.
Here we meet Stanley Stubbers. Stanley is a lounge lizard from a minor public school. He is tall and gangly, with thick brown hair, set in a stiff quiff, an aquiline nose and close set blue eyes. He arrives in blue blazer with silver buttons, a maroon and navy tie, narrow grey flannel trousers, brown suede shoes and carrying a short grey mac. Stanley strides about confidently, strong on arrogance but weak on ethics.
Inside, the pub lives up to its name. We enter a serving bar in a hallway where food is dished up for private diners. It’s papered with dark blue wallpaper with images of cricketers. In the rear wall are two swing doors two metres apart. They lead to the unseen kitchens. To the right is a life-sized plywood cut-out of WG Grace in cricket whites with his distinctive full bushy beard. There’s no face though, instead there’s just a circular hole for photo opportunities. In the centre of the space is a serving table dressed with a green tablecloth that reaches the floor. On either side of the hallway is a door, each leading to an unseen private dining room. The door on the left is labelled the Compton room, the door on the right, the Bradman room.
Two waiters are in attendance. The first is Gareth. Efficient and streamlined, Gareth is in his thirties with a superior expression on his face. He wears an impeccable white jacket buttoned up to the neck and black trousers as he oversees operations with a flick of the wrist and a lifted eyebrow.
The second waiter is Alfie, an ancient old soul with fading blue eyes and a bewildered look. He has a cadaverous unshaven face, sunken eyes and floppy grey hair. Alfie’s arms stick out before him all of a tremble, protruding from a short white jacket that hangs open to reveal a moth eaten fair-isle pullover and black bow tie. Alfie’s black trousers are shapeless and too short. He shuffles back and forth, performing his duties, his back bowed.
In Act 2, we return to the Brighton street. Charlie’s front door is on the left and the house has a vertical sign reading ’scrap metal.’
Back in the pub we visit a wide corridor between two bedrooms. In the back wall there’s a central entranceway with a coat rack on its right, hung with freshly ironed shirts. Two large trunks are on the floor beside it. The dark green wallpaper is almost completely obscured by photos and paintings of cricketers. An ironing board is set up on the left.
Moving outside again, on Brighton pier, the streetlamps are lit and ornate wrought iron railings stretch across the space, complete with a strangely immobile seagull perching on top. Beyond, the Brighton seafront stretches into the distance, twinkling with its own streetlamps. A steely grey sky threatens a stormy night.
An assortment of passers-by interrupt proceedings now and again, a tall thin woman in a green suit pushing a shopping trolley, a vicar, and a plethora of policemen in helmets, truncheons at their waists.
Cast and production credits
CHARLIE “THE DUCK” CLENCH is played by Shaun Williamson
His daughter PAULINE CLENCH by Jasmyn Banks
ALAN DANGLE by Edward Hancock
Charlie’s solicitor HARRY DANGLE by David Verrey
LLOYD BOATENG by Derek Elroy
DOLLY is played by Emma Barton
RACHEL CRABBE – Alicia Davies
FRANCIS HENSHALL – will be played by Gavin Spokes
STANLEY STUBBERS – Patrick Warner
The waiters, GARETH and ALFIE are played by Elliot Harper and Michael Dylan
The ensemble are Lace Akpojaro, Owen Guerin, Mark Hayden, Katharine Moraz, Katherine Morris and Joseph O’Malley
The Craze are:
Philip Murray Warson musical director lead singer and acoustic guitar.
Oliver Seymour-Marsh Lead guitar and backing vocals
Richie Hart, Double and electric basses and backing vocals.
And Billy Stookes, Washboard, drums and backing vocals
The physical comedy director is Cal McCrystal
Tour Director & Choreographer - Adam Penford
Designer – Mark Thompson
Lighting Designer – Mark Henderson
Music and songs are by Grant Olding
Sound designer is Paul Arditti
One Man Two Guvnors has been directed by Nicholas Hytner
These programme notes were supplied to Sightlines by Vocaleyes. The audiodescription will be delivered by Sara Duncan.
Welcome to this introduction to One Man, Two Guvnors - based on Carlo Goldini’s 18th century classic comedy, The Servant of Two Masters. The play has been written by Richard Bean and directed for The National Theatre by Nicholas Hytner.
The performance lasts for approximately two hours and thirty minutes - including an interval of 20 minutes.
There now follows information about One Man Two Guvnors which includes some background to the play, descriptions of the set, characters and costumes, and a list of cast and production credits. This will be followed by some additional useful information and contact details.
One Man Two Guvnors was inspired by Carlo Goldoni’s 18th century classic comedy, A Servant of Two Masters. Richard Bean’s play has transferred the characters to 1960’s Brighton, picking up on the outrageous comic style of British films of the period like the ‘Carry on’ series, bawdy and barmy, flamboyant and physical, like the much earlier Commedia dell Arte.
For this production the stage has been transformed into a 1960’s Odeon-type theatre. Framing the stage are pale blue glittering tiles, and tapering gold topped columns on either side, picked out in tiny lights. Three microphone stands are set in the middle of the stage, with a double bass propped up on its side on the left hand. Just behind them, a backcloth has been painted to look like orange curtains.
The performance begins with a skiffle band, that also entertains between scene changes, their lyrics introducing the next part of the action. They are The Craze, four young men with dark hair slicked back in a wave. They wear dark purple suits with drainpipe trousers and jackets, fastened with a single button. The lead singer plays guitar. There’s a second guitarist, a double bass player and a fourth lad plays drums and washboard.
There are eleven main characters and several walk-on parts.
The music ends, and removal men and women in drab brown coats and cloth caps bring in two red-upholstered armchairs. These are placed at the front, angled slightly to face us, with a side table beside the left hand chair. The chairs form part of the living room of a Brighton gangster, Charlie, ‘The Duck’ Clench and his "laaavely daugh’er", Pauline.
Charlie is a retired gangster. In his fifties, Charlie’s chunky physique indicates a man who can take care of himself in a fight. His short brown hair is slicked back with Brylcreem and there’s the faintest hint of menace in his pugnacious demeanour. Charlie wears a suit patterned with wide blue and grey vertical stripes with a white shirt and a maroon tie.
Charlie’s beloved daughter Pauline is 18 years old and is the dumbest of blondes, her hair held back under a white Alice band and flicked up at the neck, rigid with hairspray. She has a heart shaped face and her blue eyes are constantly wide with wonder, her coral-lipsticked mouth a little open in an ‘oh’. Pauline’s white dress is patterned with enormous red flowers and has a scoop neck, tiny sleeves, and the skirt belled out over a stiff petticoat from a hand-span waist.
The orange backcloth lifts to reveal a high ceilinged living-room with a tall narrow bay window at the back, with green patterned curtains almost reaching the floor. The window gives a view of rows of elegant but rather run-down four-storey Regency houses leading down to the sea. There’s a door in each side wall of the room, close to us. The door on the left leads off to the front door, while that on the right leads to other parts of the house. These doors remain in situ throughout the play, changing their function with each scene change.
The room is decorated in 1960’s wallpaper, a beige background with large black and white circles the size of dinner plates. In the bay of the window a table is laden with the paraphernalia of a rather half-hearted party, champagne glasses and a plate of pineapple chunks and cheese rammed on to cocktail sticks. A wooden chair stands either side of the table.
To the left of the bay window is a small bookcase holding ornaments, some family photos and tattered books. Hanging on the wall above this is a print of Annigoni’s portrait of the young Queen Elizabeth II. She’s gazing into the distance, wearing a midnight blue velvet cloak adorned with the silver and diamond star of the Order of the Garter.
Guests at the party are associates of Charlie, and Pauline’s fiancé Alan Dangle. Alan’s in his early twenties, an aspiring actor, tall and slim with thick dark, hair, a floppy fringe and a pale, sensitive face. He reaches forward into deep lunges, flinging his arms about in outrageously dramatic gestures. Alan’s dressed entirely in black with a polo-necked sweater and leather jacket. His drainpipe trousers accentuate his long legs and his black shoes are extremely pointed.
Harry Dangle, his father, is Charlie’s solicitor. Harry’s a huge man, dapper and faintly sleazy in spite of the expensive, handmade, black pinstripe suit buttoned across his ample stomach. Harry’s black hair is thinning and swept back from his fleshy face. His heavily-browed eyes are narrowed and wily. He wears heavy sideburns and a goatee beard.
Charlie has an old friend, Lloyd Boateng. Also retired from a criminal career, he’s now proud owner and chef of a popular pub in Brighton, The Cricketer’s Arms. A little younger than Charlie, Lloyd’s black – he’s from Trinidad - tall and slim with a shaved head and a cheery smile. At the outset, Lloyd wears a cream suit with faint grey pin-stripes, buttoned up to high lapels, but later appears in a chef’s white jacket.
Dolly works for Charlie, and is bossy and busty. In her early twenties she is sparky and up for it, giving us a wide, scarlet lipsticky grin over her shoulder, her big dark eyes twinkling. Dolly’s shapely figure is encased in a brown checked pencil skirt, enhancing her curvaceous hips. She wears a plain white blouse with a green embroidered cardigan draped over her shoulders. The highlights in her black beehive catch the light as she wiggles enticingly on her white stilettos.
A cocky young gangster named Roscoe comes looking for Charlie. Roscoe is suspi-ciously petite and turns out to be Rachel Crabbe, Roscoe’s twin sister in disguise. Rachel is in her twenties and has an oval face and fierce brown eyes. A wide brimmed trilby hat is perched on her short, dark brown hair. She strides about in her shiny, silver grey suit, white shirt and narrow blue tie, hands in pockets, speaking in a gruff snarl in an effort to appear manly.
She’s accompanied by Francis Henshall, who’s cheeky and chubby. He’s about 30, out of a job and hungry, sitting bunched up in his brown check, tweed jacket and matching waistcoat. His trousers are mismatched in a larger brown check and too short – fighting shy of his Pringle socks, with a brown and blue diamond pattern and his tan lace-up shoes. His short dark hair is going thin. Francis has a mischievous glint in his brown eyes. His expression can turn from puppyish pleading to impish glee in a moment, his grin wide and infectious.
The action moves outside to where the Regency houses line the road. In the distance an unpromising grey sky hangs over a grey sea. On the right, close to us, is the Cricketers – the pub owned by Lloyd Boateng. It has a Victorian exterior with a green painted lower storey and cream painted columns, and a single window above. A bench outside faces us with several pint glasses on it containing murky dregs. To its right a door leads into the pub, with a battered dustbin beside it.
Here we meet Stanley Stubbers. Stanley is a lounge lizard from a minor public school. He is tall and gangly, with thick brown hair, set in a stiff quiff, an aquiline nose and close set blue eyes. He arrives in blue blazer with silver buttons, a maroon and navy tie, narrow grey flannel trousers, brown suede shoes and carrying a short grey mac. Stanley strides about confidently, strong on arrogance but weak on ethics.
Inside, the pub lives up to its name. We enter a serving bar in a hallway where food is dished up for private diners. It’s papered with dark blue wallpaper with images of cricketers. In the rear wall are two swing doors two metres apart. They lead to the unseen kitchens. To the right is a life-sized plywood cut-out of WG Grace in cricket whites with his distinctive full bushy beard. There’s no face though, instead there’s just a circular hole for photo opportunities. In the centre of the space is a serving table dressed with a green tablecloth that reaches the floor. On either side of the hallway is a door, each leading to an unseen private dining room. The door on the left is labelled the Compton room, the door on the right, the Bradman room.
Two waiters are in attendance. The first is Gareth. Efficient and streamlined, Gareth is in his thirties with a superior expression on his face. He wears an impeccable white jacket buttoned up to the neck and black trousers as he oversees operations with a flick of the wrist and a lifted eyebrow.
The second waiter is Alfie, an ancient old soul with fading blue eyes and a bewildered look. He has a cadaverous unshaven face, sunken eyes and floppy grey hair. Alfie’s arms stick out before him all of a tremble, protruding from a short white jacket that hangs open to reveal a moth eaten fair-isle pullover and black bow tie. Alfie’s black trousers are shapeless and too short. He shuffles back and forth, performing his duties, his back bowed.
In Act 2, we return to the Brighton street. Charlie’s front door is on the left and the house has a vertical sign reading ’scrap metal.’
Back in the pub we visit a wide corridor between two bedrooms. In the back wall there’s a central entranceway with a coat rack on its right, hung with freshly ironed shirts. Two large trunks are on the floor beside it. The dark green wallpaper is almost completely obscured by photos and paintings of cricketers. An ironing board is set up on the left.
Moving outside again, on Brighton pier, the streetlamps are lit and ornate wrought iron railings stretch across the space, complete with a strangely immobile seagull perching on top. Beyond, the Brighton seafront stretches into the distance, twinkling with its own streetlamps. A steely grey sky threatens a stormy night.
An assortment of passers-by interrupt proceedings now and again, a tall thin woman in a green suit pushing a shopping trolley, a vicar, and a plethora of policemen in helmets, truncheons at their waists.
Cast and production credits
CHARLIE “THE DUCK” CLENCH is played by Shaun Williamson
His daughter PAULINE CLENCH by Jasmyn Banks
ALAN DANGLE by Edward Hancock
Charlie’s solicitor HARRY DANGLE by David Verrey
LLOYD BOATENG by Derek Elroy
DOLLY is played by Emma Barton
RACHEL CRABBE – Alicia Davies
FRANCIS HENSHALL – will be played by Gavin Spokes
STANLEY STUBBERS – Patrick Warner
The waiters, GARETH and ALFIE are played by Elliot Harper and Michael Dylan
The ensemble are Lace Akpojaro, Owen Guerin, Mark Hayden, Katharine Moraz, Katherine Morris and Joseph O’Malley
The Craze are:
Philip Murray Warson musical director lead singer and acoustic guitar.
Oliver Seymour-Marsh Lead guitar and backing vocals
Richie Hart, Double and electric basses and backing vocals.
And Billy Stookes, Washboard, drums and backing vocals
The physical comedy director is Cal McCrystal
Tour Director & Choreographer - Adam Penford
Designer – Mark Thompson
Lighting Designer – Mark Henderson
Music and songs are by Grant Olding
Sound designer is Paul Arditti
One Man Two Guvnors has been directed by Nicholas Hytner
These programme notes were supplied to Sightlines by Vocaleyes. The audiodescription will be delivered by Sara Duncan.
