(seen at the afternoon performance on 19th March 2025)
Something of a forgotten play itself, this focuses on a forgotten period in “rag trade” history. For those, like the monkey, who are familiar with it, we know that it went from the Industrial Revolution’s white, upper class mill owners making cheap fabric available, to late Regency entrepreneurs creating “ready to wear” factory-made garments, to the Jewish immigrants (represented in this play), to the Indian, then Chinese manufacturers of today.
As is usual, Black efforts and endeavours are overlooked. Walker (Arinze Kene) is willing to put the hours in for that cheque which will buy him a suit-tailoring business on Carnaby Street. He knows “the establishment” will not help him, the odds are against him, but (no real spoiler) he fights and wins.
We are on his side from the start, sympathising with the chaos wreaked by his supposed assistants.
Buster (Gershwyn Eustache Jnr) waits nervously for news from the maternity ward. Oddly able to detach though, as required, he keeps us wondering until a well performed release at the end reveals his true feelings.
Far more dangerous, flamboyant Horace (Karl Collins) is provided with an excellent garish hat by designer Frankie Bradshaw, summing him up instantly. Venial, malicious for unexplained reasons, and with his eye on Walker’s neglected wife Darlene (Cherrelle Skeete), his unpredictability and her vulnerability spell disaster.
With young assistant Courtney (Raphel Famotibe) representing disaffected youth (the age-old, accurate stereotype) and Mr Nat (Colin Mace, struggling to find his character – choose an accent and stick to it, is the monkey advice) as self-made schmutter mogul (story repeated, perhaps unnecessarily), all perspectives of light industry are represented.
The effect Lynette Linton achieves, however, is erratic. Under her direction, what should be historic commentary on the records of an era, instead swings wildly from drama to soap to sitcom in overloaded fashion – no pun intended.
Set designer Bradshaw’s simplistic rails and grotty sink unit set is over-embellished with oddities like the box of a period video games system and two sliding “dream” sections of scenery.
With these, Linton’s “past and present” ghosts appear too often towards the end of the play - lessening their much impact in the single scene when it is really needed. The material begins to pucker as her needle attempts to join it.
Extra material by Trish Cooke adds confusion, particularly with a Barbican / Royal Shakespeare Company reference. The play is set in the 1970s, but the RSC didn't begin at the Barbican until 1982. The monkey may have missed a time-shift – there are no programme notes or other text indicators – and it is most odd. It would be happy to be corrected on it, of course.
Perhaps another director would have burrowed further beneath the skins of this mostly male cast. On the other hand, Linton highlights the absence of women and what they bring.
The delivered result is rather like the trousers they are altering. The missing six inches of significance being reason to debate the merits of the entire garment. On the verge of delivering something memorable, but the cut isn’t quite the most flattering and after the final pressing the results are still slightly creased.
