"Beat me on the bottom with a Woman's Weekly": All things Victoria Wood

[Mel O'Drama]

"Genius" is such an overused word. So much so that when describing a talent such as Victoria Wood's it seems rather inadequate.

Like probably the entire nation, I find Victoria and her witty observational material disarmingly endearing. It's hard to imagine there's anyone out there who doesn't, but I dare say there are a couple. As Victoria herself said when introducing her risque song Alternative Tango:​

Hope it doesn't offend anybody. Well, I don't mind if it offends somebody.​

I have a yen to watch most of the available Victoria Wood material in chronological order, starting with Talent, which I don't think I've done before. It was meant to kick off a few evenings ago, but a series of unfortunate events in trying to make this happen are starting to resemble one of Victoria's routines. Long story short, the box set containing Talent and other early Victoria plays was the victim of a frenzied de-clutter some years ago, and my re-ordered item has been subject to delays. But it will happen. As soon as Hermes get it together.

In the meantime, here's a space to discuss the many talents of Victoria Wood, and to share gems such as this:

 

[James from London]

Talent and other early Victoria plays

I remember seeing Talent and Happy Since I Met You as a kid when they were first shown and they made quite an impression on me. I'd never seen anything quite like them before (or anyone quite like Julie Walters). VW then sat on them for years (not literally) which meant it wasn't possible to re-watch them until they were finally released on DVD about ten years ago. It was very interesting to revisit them. I felt one had dated a bit better than the other, but they're both still fascinating. I did find the third play, which I can't remember the name of now, a bit of a struggle though. I look forward to hearing what you think!

 

[Barbara Fan]

oh great minds think alike. I got her bio for my xmas and am ploughing through that, she has just got married!!

I have also dug out my box set of Victoria Wood and just finished Pat and Margaret and Housewife 49 with a lovely bossy Stephanie Cole and realised the guy who played her son was the one who groomed Bethany Platt in Corrie

Thora Hird comes away with a cracker in P +M " They didnt have dyslexia in my day, you were sat at the back with raffia"

I was lucky to see her onstage circa 1990s i think - she was a great talent, I didnt find everything she did funny and found some of the monologues boring - but i loved a lot of her writing and she died far too soon - She still had so much still to do!

 

[Alexis]

I absolutely love Victoria Wood! Along with French & Saunders she's one of those people who made me laugh as long as I can remember. I mean I was made aware of a sense of humour by Victoria Wood. She truly was a genius. I have a good bit of her stuff on DVD and watch when I need a bit of a lift. The last thing I watched of hers was Victoria Wood Presents. I vaguely remembered watching it as a kid, but seeing it again I was in stitches. She was just brilliant and so clever but never patronising or like that. She was so comforting and relatable. Like she could take the most mundane thing and make it ridiculously funny. Love her!

 

[Mel O'Drama]

I remember seeing Talent and Happy Since I Met You as a kid when they were first shown and they made quite an impression on me. I'd never seen anything quite like them before (or anyone quite like Julie Walters). VW then sat on them for years (not literally) which meant it wasn't possible to re-watch them until they were finally released on DVD about ten years ago. It was very interesting to revisit them.

Oh - that's nice that you can remember the impact they had on you back before she and Julie Walters were household names.

I can't remember the first time I saw her, but I imagine it was round about the time of As Seen On TV by which time she was fully formed, so to speak. A bit like Alexis, she was simply part of my television world from an early age. The Screenplays DVD would probably have been the first time I saw these early films. I can't remember a thing about them, though, and I'm looking forward to revisiting.

I did find the third play, which I can't remember the name of now, a bit of a struggle though. I look forward to hearing what you think!

According to my homemade viewing order list it's Happy Since I Met You, which I think is a direct sequel to Talent.

I got her bio for my xmas and am ploughing through that, she has just got married!!

I hope to read it at some point. It's just a shame she never got to write an autobiography during her lifetime, as I'm sure it would have been a brilliant read.

I really must finish reading Julie Walters' autobiography as well.

I have also dug out my box set of Victoria Wood and just finished Pat and Margaret and Housewife 49 with a lovely bossy Stephanie Cole

Ooh. I've never seen Housewife, 49. This will be my first time watching that and I'm looking forward to it. Especially now I know Steph Cole is in it.

Thora Hird comes away with a cracker in P +M " They didnt have dyslexia in my day, you were sat at the back with raffia"

Ha ha. I watched the 1980s Adrian Mole TV adaptions at the weekend (also featuring Julie Walters), and it sounds exactly like a line Beryl Reid would have said as Grandma Mole. She may even have said it.

I was lucky to see her onstage circa 1990s i think

Oh nice. I also saw her onstage, but it wasn't a full set. She hosted and introduced a special Gloria Swanson double bill of films, so she did this whole spiel about Gloria's life in her special Victoria Wood way. It was quite awe inspiring to see her doing her thing.

I also wish I'd been quicker off the mark when she swooshed past me in the bar afterwards on her way to her taxi. I was taken by surprise and by the time I realised it was her she was gone. I'm sure she was quite used to beating a hasty retreat with the minimum of fuss. I noticed she was careful not to make eye contact with anyone, but gave a polite smile when I turned round to discover her puffa jacket literally brushing shoulders with me.

I didnt find everything she did funny and found some of the monologues boring - but i loved a lot of her writing

Oh, I loved the monologues. Especially the epic twenty minute Shopping Stalker monologue in An Audience With... that included the legendary World Of Sacherelle.

I mean I was made aware of a sense of humour by Victoria Wood.

That makes total sense to me. I really get that.

She was just brilliant and so clever but never patronising or like that. She was so comforting and relatable. Like she could take the most mundane thing and make it ridiculously funny.

Yes!!

 

[Mel O'Drama]

I did find the third play, which I can't remember the name of now, a bit of a struggle though.

According to my homemade viewing order list it's Happy Since I Met You, which I think is a direct sequel to Talent.

Oops. Correction. I meant to say Nearly A Happy Ending. Of course.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Well, there's still no sign of my Talent arriving. Just a heap of excuses and false hope.

The words "tongs" and "icepick" spring to mind.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

So many chortles...

He got stuck in. He really tried. But I only felt a tremor down my left hand side.​

 

[Ukdallasfan]

Two soups- total genius! Loved her friendship and collaboration with Julie Walters too. My little sis and I saw the Acorn Antiques musical years ago and it was such enjoyable fun. RIP Victoria- you were fantastic

 

[Mel O'Drama]

This song came up in my suggestions last night and I found it unexpectedly moving:

It's interesting to see how the shyness, vulnerability and childlike timidity of Victoria in early-ish interviews goes hand-in-hand with a great deal of emotional intelligence and a self-deprecating awareness of her lack of experience.

I also loved her comments in this interview, from newspapers to her own career:

I used to think that I would be [famous]. And then when my career went [makes a whooshing crashing sound accompanied by a downhill motion with her hand] after about the first three years I thought "Oh, I'd got this wrong. I'm not going to be famous. I'm going to be on the dole for the rest of my life." And then I pulled myself together and I stopped worrying about being famous, which had been a big issue for me and something I really wanted. And all I was concerned about then was earning a living. Now I am... earning a living I'm not bothered about being famous at all.​

I love that she knows herself well enough to be fiery and rebut comments. Like her quickly jumping on Mavis Nicholson for saying that Victoria is a topical writer.




This next interview is Victoria Wood at her most fascinating. She talks through her processes (complete with views of her handwritten notes), and discusses topics from euthanasia to early relationship breakups and how they influenced her work:

If I'd 'ad any sense I would've written about the actual relationship I had with my boyfriend, which was full of rows and screaming and him walking off and leaving me at the bus stop... And him coming back 'cause I 'ad cigarettes in me pocket. Things like that. But I didn't. I wrote the sort of "Oh, he's left me, and... really boring lyrics.​

Her frank discussion about death is also quite moving looking at it from 2021.


​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

I'm happy to report my copy of Wood Work has arrived today. A little late, and a little imperfect, which seems somehow appropriate. This means my Woodathon can commence this evening.

Of the shows in the set, Housewife, 49 and Julie Walters & Friends will both be new to me. I've also been busy filling in some other gaps in my Victoria DVD collection. It's time for some perfectly-timed joy to be injected into my lockdown.​

 

[Barbara Fan]

This was my Xmas present



and I did jump to the end to see How she died too

The one thing that is apparent from her early years was her shyness and vulnerability and lack of confidence in herself and uncertainty re whehther she would make it or get any work
She certainly didnt have a very "normal" upbringing - but sheer perseverence paid off
Celia Imrie seems to have been a friend from a very early age

I re watched Acorn antiques over Xmas = Susie Blake is fab as the announcer and 75% of it is funny, 25% isnt and the one who doesnt work for me is the character of Trixie - she is one i FWD! But Julie Waters in lumpy tights and a leotard!!

I really want to get my hands on a copy of Eric and Ernie now, Daniel Rigby who played Eric ended up her lodger

I also love the programme about filming behind the scenes with Mrs Overall very Joan Collins and diva like with Paul Heiney (remember him from Thats life)

 

[Mel O'Drama]

This was my Xmas present

I came VERY close to buying it today, along with all the VW DVDs and audiobooks I've been impulse buying.

What made me pause were a number of reviews that say there are too many facts and it's dry and humourless. But reviews seem very good overall, so I'm sure I'll plonk down my tenner soon enough.

The one thing that is apparent from her early years was her shyness and vulnerability and lack of confidence in herself and uncertainty re whehther she would make it or get any work

I can imagine. That certainly comes across in early interviews. She seemed quite open about the fact that she lacked confidence at times and could be very shy around people.

She certainly didnt have a very "normal" upbringing - but sheer perseverence paid off
Celia Imrie seems to have been a friend from a very early age

Interesting. And it's titbits like this which is why I'll end up dipping into that book sooner rather than later.

the one who doesnt work for me is the character of Trixie - she is one i FWD!

She's not a favourite of mine, but she's bearable for the brief screen-time she has. I think she's meant to be a bit annoying and is probably based on a specific type of soap character of the time (I often find myself thinking of Suzie Birchall during her scenes).

In all my surfing in the last few days, I read somewhere that Susie Blake auditioned for Trixie but was asked to be the Continuity Announcer instead, which shows how Victoria and those casting knew exactly what would work best for the series.

I also love the programme about filming behind the scenes with Mrs Overall very Joan Collins and diva like with Paul Heiney (remember him from Thats life)

Yes, it's great fun. I love Maggie Steed as the producer with a whiff of Julia Smith:

Don't talk to the press if you like having kneecaps.

 

[Barbara Fan]

this is a favourite and Liza Tarbuck gets all the great lines

especially just before 13 mins

"hello Im Nicola" lol

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Talent
(5th August 1979)

​

The opening ballad may be about the character of Julie Stephens, but - with lyrics like “You’re one in a million. There is no-one else like you” - also feels very much like Victoria Wood’s ode to her good friend Julie Walters who is playing Julie Stephens. Julie W. gets top billing here, by the way. This surprised me a little given that Vic wrote it all and had performed it on stage. But it’s not that surprising, really, given Julie had some screen credits to her name at this point while Talent was Victoria’s screen debut. It also arguably speaks to Vic’s generosity and perhaps her lack of confidence. The ballad does the Last Dance thing of breaking into an uptempo disco number, foreshadowing the peaks and troughs that await, as the Manchester skyline at dusk gives way to our setting for the night: Bunter’s nightclub.

The first act - some twenty five minutes long - is a pure two-hander. Julie and her friend Maureen enter a dingy dressing room where Julie makes up and prepares for a talent show in which she’s singing. One can almost vicariously feel the nerves as she talks about not being able to eat much:

I ‘ad tomato soup an’ a raspberry mivvi out of our freezer. Did I tell ya we got a freezer? It’s full of ice lollies an’ a packet o’ beefburgers. Mum says it cost so much she can’t afford any food for it. Funny word, i’n’t it? Mivvi.

This being Victoria Wood, mivvis aren’t the only product to be mentioned, and freezers aren’t the only status symbol of the era that we hear about. The two quaff Babycham and natter to overcome Julie’s nerves. Dropped into this initial conversation are wash and wear perms, Black Magic, After Eights, Matchmakers and Maureen’s Mum’s serving hatch.

It’s all as you’d expect from a Wood-penned screenplay. It’s comforting because it’s so relatable and prosaic. They talk about their memories in the same way most people I know do. There are no dramatic revelations. Just the kind of minutiae that sticks in one’s mind when remembering events. It’s all a bit random and doesn’t drive the plot forwards, nor even necessarily relate to it. Instead it fleshes out the characters and we learn about them piecemeal rather than being handed their life story in a flashback. All of it is useful for the audience to know in building a picture of the characters.

One of Maureen’s early lines - a remembrance about meeting Harry Secombe in his dressing room after winning a colouring competition - sets the tone and establishes her as endearingly ingenuous:

Sleepytime Elves I ‘ad to colour in. ‘Cause I remember ‘avin’ terrible trouble with the stripes on the pyjamas. Course, that was before felt tip.

(continued) ​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Talent
(continued)


​

IMDb categorises Talent as drama. Wikipedia classes it as comedy. It’s both. And more.

Given that musical numbers are such a key part of Victoria’s repertoire, the songs really ought not to have been so surprising to me. But there’s a big difference between songs performed by Victoria herself to a laughing audience and those performed by characters in the context of a story which has up to this point had an almost stark naturalism.

Hearing Victoria singing Julie over the opening titles is one thing. But then, nine minutes into the play, Maureen starts singing I Don’t Know Why I’m Here, and it felt surreal because it seemed to break all the rules. We’d heard Julie give a little burst of Something, which Maureen heard as the two discussed it. But when Maureen’s number comes on, Julie is present, but stays out of shot for the entire song while Maureen opens her heart to the coat stand. When she finishes, Julie continues talking about wanting to go to the loo as though the song hasn’t happened.

The song begins when Maureen takes her first swig of Babycham and ends when she takes another. Is it meant to be the same sip, indicating the thought process has happened in a fraction of a second? Or has it been in real time? Is Maureen actually singing or speaking out loud in real time and Julie just isn’t listening? It’s open to interpretation. Whatever the case, it works.

The non-diagetic songs never stopped jarring me slightly with their change of tone. But the more I reflect on this, the more I’ve realised this is entirely by design. In addition to comedy and drama, this is a musical. The songs are telling us something and are simply a different way of giving us information. And these songs remain authentic to the characters, but take things to a different level by telling us about their hopes, dreams and inner dialogues. I Don’t Know Why I’m Here is as important for Maureen’s character as little comedic moments or titbits about her virginity.

As much as I Don’t Know Why I’m Here’s lyrics capture Maureen’s insecurities, so the act’s closing song Fourteen Again vividly conjures up Julie’s more adventurous young self and tells us much about her journey to the point at which we meet her:

I wanna be fourteen again; tattoo myself with a fountain pen; pretend to like the taste of rum an’ coke. Chuck my school hat in a bush; spit on my mascara brush; buy Consulate an’ teach myself to smoke.

Crucially, the songs are mostly sung using the vocabulary and accents of the characters. Hence “brush” rhymes with “bush”. All of which retains a good degree of naturalism.

The staging also tells us about the characters. I Don’t Know… is playful and conversational. Maureen in her matronly blouse frequently alternates singing with speaking the lyrics, sometimes looking right at us as though sharing a cosy moment.

Fourteen Again has Julie as she wants to be seen - dolled up in a glamorous sequinned green gown ready for her performance and full of attitude: hair coiffed modishly, straight and parted on top, permed at the sides and back and with a dead straight fringe that looks as though it’s been cut in her bedroom on a Friday evening with a pair of scissors in one hand and a rum and coke in the other.

The direction is simple but perfect. As she sings she pushes her boobs up, one at a time; squeezes a spot in her cleavage and covers it with pan stick and powder. It’s all one shot, and the energy comes from her movements. We see her in the mirror, from the side and behind. Then, as the song loses the jazz and slows down to a more reflective ending, she turns from the dresser to a full-length mirror and we stay behind her to see her top to toe, looking vulnerable and in her own way every bit as insecure as Maureen was. Then we zoom slowly into a close up of Julie, her expression showing she has the weight of the world on her shoulders. Just beautiful.

(continued) ​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Talent
(continued)
​

Act Two broadens the canvas in a way by introducing us to other characters who each represent different characters of the entertainment industry at this level. First up are George and Arthur, the old timer double-act for whom this is a way of life (George, the pushier of the two is played by Bill Waddington, pre-Percy).

We learn about their friendship through arguably* the play’s first diagetic full number, Pals, which Julie and Maureen watch with great amusement. Four songs so far, and four different ways of presenting the information: the music playing over the action; the “internal dialogue”, the musical equivalent of a soliloquy and now the song representing dialogue between characters.
* Fourteen Again could be viewed as diagetic, but since there’s nobody else in the scene it’s difficult to measure whether or not Julie is singing out loud or having an internal dialogue. And since only Julie is present, the song is as real for us as it is to her regardless.

As light relief and a change of tone, George and Arthur are very welcome. Jaded eyes might look at the references to their friendship and George’s absent wife Olive, who he makes sure everyone knows exists, with eyebrow raised. And it’s perhaps to Victoria’s credit that I’m not clear if this is intentional or not.

The next player is the slimy compere who wastes no time dividing and conquering by separating Julie and Maureen and making passes at both with by preying on their insecurities and promising them the world. His first target is Julie:

Shall I tell ya summat? You won’t win. Jackie James’s manager runs this club… You have got a mediocre voice, a terrible Lancashire accent, no experience and no act. On your own you are gonna get nowhere fast. But with me? I know more big producers than you’ve ‘ad ‘ot dinners. A word from me an’ you could do a guest-spot on The Des O’Connor Show. Stars On Sunday.

Standing behind her, he then puts one hand inside her dress while using the other to move Julie’s hand to his cock over his trousers. Then he leaves her to think about it while going back to Maureen and giving her the same treatment. Her nervous, factual responses are pure Victoria Wood. He begins by stroking her hair.

It’s lovely. Lovely and soft. Smells nice too.

Strawberry and melon shampoo for fine flyaway hair.

And after he fondles her bosoms:

I bet you got lovely big nipples an’ all, haven’t you?

Medium big.

The final key player is Mel: husband of the star act, Cathy Christmas. And, as it turns out, the man who abandoned Julie when she became pregnant eight years earlier. He’d assumed she’d had an abortion and is only moderately interested to learn he has a son. Scenes of dialogue between Julie and Mel’s intense discussion is interspersed with - and taking place in the background of - Maureen singing He Wouldn’t Remember Me, which is about her memories of carefree Julie’s relationship with the older man through naïve teenage eyes:

Julie had a lover; he signed his letters lover. She passed ‘em round ‘er friends at break. She didn’t show them Maureen, so Maureen said “‘ow boring” an’ had cake. Triumph was written on Julie’s face. Mel’s name was on ‘er pencil case. She’d discuss his finer points for hours. Maureen - sexy as a doormat - found solace with Fourth Form At Mallory Towers.

The song recalls Mel telling Julie “I won’t let you down”, which juxtaposes brilliantly with the reality of Julie today, with a young child, no money and no prospects. And Mel fobbing her off once again, despite learning about his son.





The play’s final song, Bored With This, takes yet another approach. This time, the song is fully integral to the plot, with Julie talking to Maureen about the life she fears:

I’ll do keep fit on Tuesday nights. Crimplene cardies, footless tights. And cordon bleu: can you see me? “Sorry. I thought coq au vin was love in a lorry. And at forty five, no doubt I’ll be winking at the milkman when my womb’s dropped out. Too much makeup; double chin. Watching Jackanory with a bottle of gin. Stuffed with valium, nicotine, caffeine. You never know, I might die laughin’.

Their decision to cut and run, leaving the seedy nightclub for a different kind of squalor hits all the right notes. It’s almost a reverse Thelma and Louise. The motive is similar, but the outlook is drastically different. They have their big moment of choosing to leave things behind on their terms. Instead of flying off a cliff, they run giggling down a rickety external fire escape and - in a final stills montage - walk the streets, get pissed at a pub, smoke too much and go to the chippy. The gritty, spit and sawdust harsh realities of Alan Parker's Fame give way to Coronation Street as the only sane option.

The underlying - almost unlikely - friendship that finally allows each to smile is the most precious thing that comes across. Talent ultimately becomes a joyous celebration of the ordinary. Some might say mundane. But priceless all the same.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Nearly A Happy Ending

(1st June 1980)

As with Talent, we begin with one of the friends arriving on four wheels to meet the other. This time it’s Maureen. Instead of arriving at the old theatre by bus, she pulls onto a yellow brick estate in a gorgeous 1972-3 blue Mini Clubman. One look at those wheel trims immediately transported me back in time. My Uncle had one of these in white, with mustard colour vinyl seats. It was neat as a pin and I used to covet it.

There’s no soundtrack for the intro, other than ambient sounds that can be heard in the street: the car engine; children playing; the tinkle of an ice cream van; a dog barking. It feels very minimalist compared with the opening of Talent which romanticised Julie’s bus journey and Julie herself. And it works well.

Even here there are lovely little character touches. After locking the door Maureen walks a few steps, pauses and returns to try the handle and make sure it’s locked. Which is something I find very relatable, being a bit of a “checker”. My favourite touch here is a visual one: at the top of the windscreen is one of those very 1970s sun strips that frequently bore the names of the occupants. The strip runs the entire length of the windscreen but while the driver’s side bears the legend “MAUREEN”, the passenger side is blank.

She’s paying an unexpected daytime visit to Julie who is in her dressing gown in a darkened living room smoking and watching Welsh language programming surrounded by a tray of dirty dishes. Her Mum, we learn, is in “Berkeley”:

Depression?

Yeah. It was either ‘er or me an’ seein’ as how I can’t stick mashed swede she went in.

As the dialogue goes on, it becomes apparent that something has happened. It’s been three months. Maureen didn’t know if Julie wanted visitors before, and doesn’t know what to say about it. Julie thanks her for the flowers. Then we move on. Julie offers to make a cup of tea, and they move into the kitchen, but it’s Maureen who ends up making it, despite there being no teapot and having to deal with tea bags:

Do I put one in each cup?

Never used them before?

No. My mother says you can’t be sure what’s in them. If she’s having tea in a cafe she gets them out and holds ‘em up to the light.

I found an Elastoplast in a meat ’n’ potato pie once.

What did you do with it?

Left it on the side of the plate.

Didn’t you send it back?

No-one’s gonna put it back on their finger after it’s been in a meat ’n’ potato pie, are they?

It’s here that we learn more of what’s gone on: Julie’s fiancé has died at the age of twenty six. In a car crash with Julie’s friend Xena (a “last fling”).

I was upset, but it’s not like people think. If I go out shoppin’ or anythin’ they keep on comin’ up to me an’ putting their ‘and on me arm an’ sayin’ “time’s a great healer”.

Mrs Myers said to tell you that.

Did she? It’s done bugger all for ‘er acne, a’n’t it? Forty two an’ she’s still got a face like Dick Whittington’s hanky.

Nearly A Happy Ending is certainly chock full of vintage Victoria Wood lines.

(continued)
​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Nearly A Happy Ending

(continued)​

Cleverly, Nearly A Happy Ending hits many of the same notes as Talent, but in a different way. As before, we begin with a lengthy two-hander between the leads. It’s only two thirds of the first act this time - fourteen of the twenty one minutes. And it’s not quite real time for the whole scene. But the essence is the same: Maureen supports Julie and there’s a lots of girl talk as the transformation into evening wear happens. This time, though, Maureen is the one transformed as Julie decides they need a girls’ night out and gives her a makeover to celebrate Maureen’s significant weight loss.

This aspect of Maureen’s character gives some pithy commentary on the diet club angle. In particular the tendency of some dieters to fall into monomania: obsessively relaying details of calories and what’s forbidden and permitted to anyone and everyone. Bringing the subject back round to food and diets at the drop of a hat without considering that others don’t share their enthusiasm.

So it is with Maureen, who very verbally jots down the calories of everything she eats. She knows that a supermarket’s own brand of Digestive has five calories less than the branded one and whatever. She probably doesn’t even realise she’s doing it.

The first two songs of the show are devoted to Maureen’s obsession. First there’s I Might As Well Be Fat, in which Maureen commends her own weight loss while lamenting the fact that her achievement hasn’t changed her life as completely as she believed it would. It’s substantially the same but without the eclairs.

We (and Julie) attend the diet club with Maureen and there’s the shame of the cattle market style weigh-ins, with everyone’s achievements - and failures - called crisply out by the leader. Maureen proudly hops on and takes the credit from the leader and her peers. The act’s closing song uses gentle humour to explore the nuances of such a club. There’s a dance between support rooted in hope and cynicism rooted (possibly) in envy. You’re Gonna Be Back Next Month, performed by the women of the diet group is also a statement of extreme doubt as to the long term efficacy of many of these profit-making businesses. After all, what does one do when the weekly praise stops if that’s what one is conditioned into needing.

With that goal-orientated feeling of “what now” descending immediately, Maureen’s next goal is to lose her virginity. That very night.

Victoria Wood does look quite different here. I don’t know if she genuinely has lost a lot of weight here. Or perhaps it’s the hairdo. During the first act I found myself getting distracted about who she looked like. A young Jodie Foster here. Richard O’Sullivan’s daughter from Me And My Girl there. Her delivery seems somehow gentler and more ladylike than in Talent. In the Mini with Julie at the end of the act, it struck me that the delivery - both matter of fact and whimsical at the same time; a little squeaky and with multiple blinks - reminded me of young Gail Potter. And the dynamic between Maureen and Julie is very Gail and Susie Birchall. Once seen I couldn’t unsee it.

(continued)​

​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Nearly A Happy Ending

(continued)​

Act Two opens with a healthy, nostalgic dose of sexual harassment when Maureen’s Mini breaks down and two businessmen stop to give her a push start:

When it gets going, lift your foot up slowly. ‘Ave you got that?

Yes. Which foot?

He reaches in and fondles her left knee.

That one love. The one at t’bottom of this nice little leg there.

She smiles coquettishly. They go to push the car but the handbrake’s on, giving him an excuse to reach in again.

Long story short, the grease works and the girls are persuaded to join them at The Carlton Hotel which is full of miserable businessmen: a fact which is screamingly apparent when four of them perform the next song: Businessman’s Blues. Barbershop style, they wearily sum up their way of life:

I hate the chatting up of women. Taking them to your room. You try to remove - excitement ebbing - peculiar bras and bits of webbing…

Give us sex with nervous wrecks who don’t expect a lot. Not bothered what you do if her hot water bottle’s hot.

It’s the kind of material at which Victoria Wood would excel over the following couple of decades, and great fun to hear it delivered in this way.

The act’s next song has Maureen at her most optimistic and hopeful. On the verge of losing her virginity to a slightly more appropriate young businessman Julie’s helped her chat up, Maureen goes alone into the ladies washroom and sings How I Feel (at least that’s what I’m assuming it’s called from the lyrics). It feels analogous to the obligatory moment in Doris Day/Rock Hudson films where she’s dreamily on the verge of surrendering to him. The powder pinks, floral arrangements and ornate mirror frames all add to the feeling, but of course it’s done in the inimitable Victoria Wood stye which keeps it earthy and real. It’s during this song that Baz Taylor’s direction is at its most fanciful. One moment has Victoria surrounded by mirrors and reflective walls, so she can be seen disappearing into infinity from every angle.

Then comes the inevitable rejection when Tony finds out Maureen’s reason for wanting to sleep with him and becomes upset it wasn’t about him.

Meanwhile, Julie forms an unlikely friendship with the gay barman and the old comedian who wants her to consider doing a double act with him. The whole traditional northern cabaret artist thing has echoes of George and Arthur in Talent (speaking of which, the cloakroom attendant is played by Jill Summers, soon to be chasing George actor Bill Waddington round in Corrie). This leads to Act Three’s first musical number I’ve Always Fancied Bein’ A Comedienne as she extols the virtues of accepting the offer.

As in Talent, the last minutes of the film sees Julie and Maureen making a decision to return to what they know and what’s safe for them. For Julie, it’s going off with Tony after he chats her up. Adding insult to injury she asks Maureen for her car keys so Tony can drive her home, with a taxi called for Maureen. Causing further injury, Julie persuades Tony to buy Maureen a box of Black Magic.

The final dialogue between the two women is the show’s final song which is pretty epic and covers several emotional peaks and troughs and a number of musical styles. The two connect, then Julie picks up her bag, smiles awkwardly at Maureen and leaves with Tony.

On their journeys home, Maureen tolerates the taxi driver moaning about his woes and criticising her for scoffing the Black Magic:

’Ey. You’ll get fat eatin’ them.

I know!

Meanwhile, Julie listens to Tony harping on about his ex-girlfriend and gets more deflated with each word.

I’m not sure how to feel about the ending. They’re miserable and apart. Julie’s screwed Maureen over. And there’s the sense that in a day or two they’ll be back where they were at the start. It’s reassuring and terribly sad at the same time. The fact that I care enough to want more for each of them is possibly the most telling thing about how the writing and performances have kept me invested.