Author: Mark Herman adapted for the stage by Paul Allen
Director: Liz Stevenson
Octagon Theatre’s revival of Brassed Off is nothing if not topical. The film upon which Paul Allen’s stage adaptation is based is a stinging condemnation of the Thatcher government’s vindictive policy of imposing the closure of coal mines without regard for the impact upon the surrounding communities. The revival arrives just after another Conservative government has proved highly unpopular and the second series of Sherwood is running on BBC1.
In the late 1990s the miners of Grimley face a moral dilemma – whether to fight for their profitable pit to remain open or accept much-needed redundancy payments which might help some of them recover from the hardship of the miners’ strike a decade before. Retired miner Danny (Russell Richardson), believing in the unifying power of music, conducts the colliery brass band and seems unaware it is unlikely to continue to exist if the mine closes. Gloria Mullins (Hannah Woodward) returns to her hometown, reignites a romance with her old flame Andy Barrow (Barney Taylor) and joins him in playing in the colliery band. But Gloria has a dark secret – being employed to determine the profitability of the local coal mine.
Brassed Off does not take a rose-tinted view of the mining industry or ignore the shabby way decent people are treated by society. The audience is constantly reminded of the hazardous conditions in the industry – Danny is incapacitated by black lung disease. Phil (a tormented performance from Joey Hickman) is regarded by his colleagues as a hero for his conduct during the 1984–85 strike but is debt to the extent he struggles to feed his family or pay the mortgage. Yet the camaraderie between the cast captures the sense of community likely to be lost if the mine closes.
Simon Kenny’s costume and set designs show a keen eye for detail- stonewashed jeans help set the period in the late 1990s. There is a sense the characters can never escape their place of employment- a broken colliery wheel hangs over the stage and events play out on a slate-grey floor with a conveyor belt and lumps of coal in plain view.
The transition from screen to stage involves the addition of a narrator figure who seems unnecessary as so much of the dialogue is expositional, filling the audience in on past events and the experiences of the characters.
Plays with music often suffer as one element is given priority over the other. This problem is avoided in Brassed Off as the music is not used as background to the action or as a storytelling technique but staged as band rehearsals or performances. The approach is simple but highly effective with the cast supplemented seamlessly by members of Wingates Brass Band and Eagley Band.
Brassed Off makes a lot of political points which results in a restless production as director Liz Stevenson squeezes details into every scene. Scene changes are marked by protesters waving placards. As the band play in the centre of the stage, children fight around the perimeter or a family who have been evicted wander around carrying their possessions. It demonstrates the chaos of families coping desperately with hardship but feels crowded, at times you can’t help but wish the production could settle upon one thing at a time. The clash of values between a bandleader who hopes winning a trophy will bring dignity to a beleaguered community and bandmembers who just want to have a good time is overlooked in such a crowded production.
A refusal to sentimentalise makes Brassed Off a poignant production with slow-burn righteous anger and excellent tunes.
Runs until 28 September 2024
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Look back in anger
