A Voyage Round My Father: Chichester Festival Theatre (review 08.11.2023)

This piece by barrister/writer John Mortimer (1923 – 2009), perhaps best known of all for his creation Rumpole Of The Bailey starring Leo McKern as Horace Rumpole, had an interesting gestation.

It began in the form of three sketches he wrote for BBC Radio in 1963, then developed into a television play starring Ian Richardson as the author and Mark Dignam as his blind father which Mortimer then later adapted for the theatre.

Its first stage production, at the Haymarket Theatre in 1971, had Alec Guinness in the father role with Jeremy Brett as his son.

Subsequently Mortimer re-worked it again as a television film for the ITV franchise-holder Thames Television, with some of the filming taking place at his own house.

This featured Laurence Olivier as Mortimer’s father, Alan Bates as the author, Elizabeth Sellars as his mother and Jane Asher as Elizabeth.

I am unable to prevent myself from claiming a freely-admitted tiny connection with the project as I had not long before joined Thames in a junior capacity. I can recall the general swell of pride and interest that developed over the course of the production, based at Thames’ Teddington Studios, because of the fact that one of the greatest British actors of all-time (Lord Olivier) was involved. Aged 75 at the time – although he lived on until 1989 – he had previously been seriously ill and was frail enough that filming had to be arranged around his varying states of health and strength. I recall that there were even concerns expressed in some senior quarters that it might become “touch and go” as to whether he’d be able to finish the job.

Anyhow.

Yesterday my partner and I visited Chichester Festival Theatre to attend the matinee (2.30pm) performance of the highly-regarded, Richard Eyre-directed, production of A Voyage Round My Father featuring Rupert Everett as John Mortimer’s father and Jack Bardoe as the author himself, currently on a short tour after a run in the West End.

Back in the day I had avidly watched the Laurence Olivier TV movie version when it was first broadcast in 1982 – not that I could remember it in any great detail forty years later – and had never before witnessed Rupert Everett acting in the flesh.

With that in mind in advance I had approached the show anticipating little more than a pleasant theatre outing anyway – as they often are – with perhaps a bonus of appreciation of some skilled or better acting by the ensemble cast that included Julian Wadham as the headmaster and Allegra Marland as John Mortimer’s wife-to- be.

Although in both halves of the play I found myself at least once “starting” suddenly and jerking my head back upon as-near-as-dammit “nodding off” in the warmth and darkness of the auditorium, I am pleased to record that I thoroughly enjoyed the overall experience and afterwards – giving my verdict in our car on the way home – pronounced myself extremely pleased at having taken the trouble to buy the tickets and attend.

The principle actors were excellent – Everett in particular delivering his acidic asides, dismissals and pithy comments with commanding relish – and the supporting cast never missed a beat either. There was an enthusiastic and prolonged (deserved) ovation for them at the conclusion of proceedings.

One sour note to end upon. The weather had been pretty foul all day – strong winds and regular rain showers and as ever at the Chichester Festival Car Park (it doesn’t actually belong to the theatre, but that how I refer to it), there was total and utter chaos – and long delays – as what felt like several hundred cars tried to depart simultaneously out into what (by then) was a full-blown Chichester city centre evening rush-hour.

If only we’d had a small, economical helicopter waiting for us as we’d emerged from the theatre, we could have been home & hosed within fifteen minutes: as it was, in total it took us an hour and a quarter to reach the sanctuary of home.