Original TV Show Writer: Alan Bleasdale
Writer: James Graham
Director: Kate Wasserberg
The play first of all rids itself of any nonsense about “adapted by…” or “from a television series…” by putting Alan Bleasdale’s name above the credits. In fact the resultant billing is remarkably accurate. James Graham has written a play with a totally different narrative structure, but these are undoubtedly Alan Bleasdale’s Boys from the Blackstuff.
A word of explanation for those who weren’t watching television 40-plus years ago. Boys from the Blackstuff, possibly the most influential drama of the 1980s, followed a free-standing play, The Blackstuff, in which a gang of road workers from Liverpool, working away at Middlesbrough, are conned by a couple of fly-by-nights into investing in their business. The disastrous results are the sack for all of them, including Dixie the team leader who was not informed of the others’ treachery, and the loss of any savings they might have had.
Boys from the Blackstuff finds them all unemployed in Liverpool, with Dixie not speaking to the others. The original series of five episodes put a different character centre-stage in each episode. Bleasdale was never sentimental about his working class characters – they had lost their jobs through their own fault – but where his sympathy lies is with the whole city of Liverpool with next to no jobs. His enemies are the unhelpfully unsympathetic Employment Exchange officials who hound the unemployed and the unscrupulous small-time capitalists who won’t give them a proper job, but will employ them “cash in hand” so that the workers are constantly looking over their shoulders for the forces of authority.
Graham’s merging of the different stories into one narrative, while not perfect, works well. The major casualty is the story of Dixie, reduced to the role of night watchman at the docks and forced to watch as thieves help themselves to goods off ships. As the goods disappear, so does his self-respect. Mark Womack brings great dignity to the part of Dixie, but that story remains undeveloped.
On the other hand, delaying the background story (a brief summary of events at Middlesbrough) until the later stages of Act 1 is an inspiration: present the “boys” as they are now, then suggest how they got to be that way.
Yosser Hughes is a case in point. As first seen Jay Johnson seems too far down the road to mental breakdown, but after Middlesbrough we can trace his disintegration much more clearly. His children, so poignant in the television version, are invisible on stage, but Johnson plays to them to huge effect. Finally, bereft of the children, Yosser becomes a heart-breaking figure. Yosser is, of course, the character we all remember most and Graham succeeds in squeezing in his most memorable moments (except the scene with Graham Souness!).
George Caple has perhaps the hardest task of all, bringing to life the “too nice” Chrissie. Until his wonderful scene late on with his wife Angie (Amber Blease) he is perhaps, like his character, too nice, but from then on his passion competes with his sympathy for others in scenes with, among other, George (Ged McKenna). George, the sage of Liverpool 8, near to death, delivers the final message, “I cannot believe that there is no hope.”
Jurell Carter (Loggo), Kyle Harrison-Pope (Dixie’s son Kevin) and Reiss Barber (George’s son Snowy who meets his end trying to escape for the police) all contribute memorably, with Jamie Peacock and Sian Polhill-Thomas entertainingly caricaturing the Department of Employment staff.
With plenty of doubling outside the main seven unemployed and an extra ensemble cast of three, Kate Wasserberg has bodies to play with and often succeeds in suggesting the heart of a city (with Amy Jane Cook’s lowering sets to aid her), but, ironically, the production gains real power with a series of scenes with two or three persons in the second half.
Runs until 17th May 2025, before continuing on tour
