Review: Letter to Brezhnev at Liverpool's Royal Court ****1/2

Back in the 1980s, a series of striking screen successes helped plant Liverpool firmly in the national consciousness – the three ‘Bs’ of Blackstuff, Brookside…and Brezhnev.

All three were political (albeit without being actually ‘Militant’), but while each was concerned with themes like socio-economic decline, political neglect, class conflict, community solidarity or crushed ambitions, it was the big screen’s Letter to Brezhnev which widened its vista to consider the chilly global division wrought by the still Cold War.

Fresh from its success with Boys From the Blackstuff, the Royal Court has now turned its attention to Frank Clarke’s cinematic plea to 'make love not war' in a production, penned by its creator, that pays homage to the film favourite while also, thanks to ingenious staging, thoughtful direction and some cracking performances, achieving a character of its own.

Letter to Brezhnev’s first public outing was actually on stage, with a short run at the Unity Theatre back in September 1983 when Margi Clarke appeared as feisty chicken stuffer Teresa for the first time.

Reviewing that early incarnation, my late and much missed colleague Phil Key praised Clarke’s “ripe, spot-on dialogue” – dialogue which found its way into the ensuing screenplay and thence on, four decades later, into this new buffed up live version.

If you’re a fan of the film, you’ll certainly relish its many recognisable (acerbic) lines.

Early 80s Kirkby, where unemployment is sky high, even dead-end jobs are coveted and opportunity is definitely not knocking for young women like Elaine (Ellie Clayton) and Teresa (Angela Simms). Both yearn for something better, although idealistic Elaine seeks liberation in fantasy while the pragmatic Teresa relies on more earthly escapes.

An impromptu night on the tiles in Liverpool throws them into the orbit of sensitive Peter and hunky Sergei, a pair of Soviet sailors on short shore leave, and a good time is had by all.

Above: Young love in Letter to Brezhnev. Top: Peter (Thomas Cotran) and Elaine (Ellie Clayton). Photos by AB Photography.

But while, in a reversal of roles, the ballsy Teresa turns timid, retreating to the safety of the life she knows, for Elaine the seismic emotional effect of those few hours with Peter (Thomas Cotran) turns her world upside down and sets her on a single-minded course to find happiness whatever the cost.

Creating a stage adaptation of a film made with all the many visual tricks and devices cinema has at its disposal isn’t always easy, and it’s to Clarke, director Nicole Behan and the cast’s credit that the storytelling remains clear and compelling through a succession of crisply choreographed short scenes that propel the plot forwards.

They are aided in this by Bev Norris-Edmunds, as movement director, and by Mark Walters’ cleverly devised and magnificently constructed set which is practically a character in its own right.

It’s impossible to speak too highly of his multi-layered, multi-functional vision in fact, from its Jenga-like plethora of bookcases, drawers, cupboards and divides which are manipulated by the cast to reveal bedrooms, boardrooms, bathrooms and bunks, to the lantern of illuminated windows, doors and chests of drawers which sweeps skywards in rising curl.

The whole thing vibrates with a kind of kinetic energy, while it’s sympathetically and atmospherically lit by Ian Scott. In silhouette it resembles, simultaneously, an urban skyline and a ship's bridge.

Above: Sergei (Liam Powell-Berry) and Teresa (Angela Simms). Photo by AB Photography.

Meanwhile a curved chain link fence stage left has a practical and symbolic role – the former to keep intruders out of the Kirkby chicken factory, and the latter as both an ‘iron curtain’ and a cage in which Elaine is a chaffing bird longing to fly free.

Letter to Brezhnev is a story, above all, about love, but while Clayton’s beatifically naïve Elaine and Cotran’s tender Peter are a sweet romantic pairing, and Simms’ Teresa and Liam Powell-Berry’s straightforward Sergei are enjoyably frisky, the defining relationship at the heart of the story is really the friendship between the two women.

Clayton (wearing, incidentally, Elaine’s checked jacket from the film, loaned by Alexandra Pigg) and Simms most recently appeared together in Gerry Linford’s two Peaceful Hour productions. They have a natural and very warm rapport, and you implicitly believe they are firm friends.

Above: Teresa (Angela Simms), centre, and Elaine (Elllie Clayton), right, with, left, Tracy (Leona Sinama-Pongolle). Photo by AB Photorgraphy.

Around the central quartet, Clarke’s cavalcade of colourfully-drawn characters are brought vividly to life by the ensemble cast, including Maya Rugen as Elaine’s opinionated little sister Josie, Leona Sinama-Pongolle as Tracy, turned sour by the bleakness of the reality of her life, and Michelle Butterly and Reginald Edwards who deliver high comedy relief as Charlie and Betty, the bickering, bevvied middle-aged couple out on the razz.

Musical director Rob Green also employs the wider cast at key moments as a wonderful, harmonising chorus.

There are a couple of small niggles.

The ‘meet cute’ between Elaine and Peter comes via a collision on the dancefloor rather than a series of silent yearning looks across it – I understand the dramatic decision making behind this, but feel such an elemental emotional moment loses something as a result.

And the initial deployment of a background soundtrack (based on the original film music) is intrusive, threatening to overpower the live dialogue, particularly if you’re sitting near a speaker.

That aside, this latest iteration of Letter to Brezhnev is another triumph for the Royal Court and hopefully, as with Blackstuff, it will go on to have a very successful afterlife once the (iron) curtain has come down on this inaugural run.