“Nobody shoots no one
in Canada…”
What begins as a lightly humorous, jaunty tale about going
to fight a war “that hardly feels like a war at all…” culminates in some mesmeric
monologues about the intensity of war, the fascination of the kill and the bravery
of men like Albert Ball who, though barely out of his teens, took down 44
German planes before succumbing to the brutal odds of war.
Billy Bishop outscored Ball (probably), he survived and to
do that must have learned more tricks than almost anyone else in the matter of
aerial conflict; even the Red Baron, Manfred von Richthofen, got shot down from
time to time. Bishop recalls his 46th kill when he strafed the
underside of a two-seater reconnaissance plane and saw both pilot and gunner
fall, unharmed, alive, fully conscious to their death many thousands of feet
below: “almost as if they could feel him watching…” It is only after a while
that you realise that you are holding your breath.
Set design is ace too Daisy Blower! All images courtesy of Robert Workman |
Bishops “score” is open to debate but the fact remains that
he was a highly successful combatant who saw more of death than most even
during The Great War… and, even more importantly, he remains a Canadian hero
and a marker on the country’s route to independence.
Charles Aitken makes for a dashing and believable Billy and so does Oliver
Beamish as his older self. Aitken looks every inch the swashbuckling pilot and is
so convincing as the Canadian misfit who makes the journey from military school
drop out to unlikely officer and subsequently fighter pilot. Beamish plays
piano and harmonises with his younger self, they toast at the same time and it’s
fascinating to watch his memories flashing across the face as the younger man
lives them – very “meta” but very engaging in the JST’s intimate space. The play was originally written for one actor and a pianist but this is a stroke of genius: the pianist is the character "looking back"...
As a British dominion, Canada’s foreign policy decisions
were in the hands of the British government when war was declared in 1914, the
country could, however, decide on its level of commitment to the conflict and
duly sent an expeditionary force of 620,000 of whom 67,000 lost their lives and
250,000 were wounded. That’s some contribution and evidence of how “this country”
maintained its position in the world a century ago.
Charles Aitken sings and Oliver Beamish plays |
Billy somehow misses the first waves of troops but finally
gets his passage on The Good Ship Caledonia which survives rough seas and an
attack on the convoy to deliver him up for service in 1915. At first, he joins
the cavalry but is eventually persuaded that the flying corps gives him the
best chance of a good war, as he said himself: "it's clean up there! I'll bet you don't get any mud or horse shit
on you up there. If you die, at least it would be a clean death."
Billy’s reckless style had him hanging by a thread when
he met socialite Lady St. Helier when recuperating in London, she helped him
complete his training and seems to have looked after his growing fame at home,
ensuring he met everyone. Aitken plays her ladyship – and is convincing even in
military uniform and both he and Beamish get through some 18 characters during
the course of the play: I especially enjoyed a French nightclub scene which saw
winks to the audience from the piano player and Aitken in an imagined boa,
vamping up the audience.
I was reminded of William Wellman’s silent film classic Wings, the director had been a fighter
pilot in the First World War as had one of his stars, Richard Arlen, who flew
his own stunts in the film as did his co-star Charles Buddy Rogers, who had to
learn to fly just for the film: the Right Stuff was more common in those days. The
dog fights in this film must have been very much like the slow-motion game of
cat and mouse Billy experienced, even on the day he evaded the Red Baron.
Gradually the tone gets more serious and the critique of
the powers that were becomes more pointed. Written and composed by John Gray with
Eric Peterson, the play was first performed 40 years ago and has developed over
that time to include the older version of Billy as they too began the life-long
process of re-evaluating their earlier deeds as an older man.
Thus, Billy Bishop
Goes to War becomes a broader-themed discourse on age and memory and not
just the high-speed life and death of the flyers who whilst they may well have
been As Calm as The Ocean – an essential
part of their slim hopes of survival – existed on a knife-edge of increasingly
unlikely chance and possibilities.
Friends Ain't
S'posed To Die, but sometimes, and often, they do… and the survivors spend
the remainder of their lives haunted by guilt and, as in Billy’s case, trying
to help younger men cope with yet more war.
Billy Bishop Goes to
War is being presented by Proud Haddock in commemoration of the centenary
of the Great War’s ending and as part of their War Season and Jermyn Street
Theatre’s Rebels Season.
Director Jimmy Walters described it as an inspiring story
that is a privilege to revive and he stages it so well with two powerful
performers who soon get you lost in the narrative, hanging on their words and
imagining those incredibly fragile and brave young men, giving their all in service
to country and Commonwealth… times have changed but not that much.
Billy plays until Saturday 24th November 2018 Monday –
Saturday, 7.30pm Saturday matinees, 3.30pm
- tickets are available from the Box Office or Jermyn Street website.
IThankYou Rating: **** Hold your breath and hang on as your
mind takes flight into dangerous skies. Not to be missed.
Poster featuring the actual Billy Bishop |
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