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There’s something about wrapping gritty, social-realist drama in a cloak of light-hearted comedy that British writers do very well. Simon Beaufoy’s The Full Monty and Lee Hall’s Billy Elliot, two of the most successful British films of the last twenty years which were both later adapted for the stage, are the most memorable examples of this “soft” realism. Set in the broken industrial communities of Thatcher’s Britain, these stories follow unlikely heroes who manage to overcome the harsh realities of their impoverished lives through their unexpected forays into show business. Veering from funny to sad and concluding with a heart-warming finale, it’s a formula which audiences can’t seem to get enough of.
Conceptually, Richard Cameron’s new play, The Flannelettes, fits neatly into this genre, setting the action in a women’s refuge in a former pit village in Yorkshire, and contrasting the horrors of domestic violence with the release the central character gains through performing in her Motown tribute band. But, as with his 2002 play The Glee Club which offset the personal dramas of a group of coal miners against the joyful relief of their male choir group, the outcome of this drama is altogether very different.
Belting out “Nowhere to Run” at the local Miners’ Welfare Club, we’re immediately introduced to The Flannelettes, comprised of lead singer Delie, her middle-aged Aunt Brenda who runs the local women’s refuge, and George, a sixty-something pawnbroker, all dressed to the nines in wigs and sparkly dresses. Even as the action shifts to the drab surroundings of the women’s refuge where Delie has come to spend the holidays with her Aunt, the tone remains upbeat, mainly due to the childish antics of Delie, a young woman with special needs and a big heart,
described by her aunt as “twenty-two goin’ on twelve.”
When she’s not singing, Delie (a superbly pitched performance from Emma Hook), spends her days litter-picking, a service for which she has received a trophy from the mayor. When she meets Roma, a damaged young woman who dreams of a better life, the two become friends. But we soon learn that this is a neighbourhood ravaged by drug-crime and violence, where women like Roma (played with perfect fragility by Holly Campbell), are little more than punch bags for their menfolk, victims of a cruel and chauvinistic community where even the local police are inclined to shrug and turn a blind eye.
Director Mike Bradwell further cranks up the tension in the second act when even Delie’s impenetrable optimism seems threatened, and as the reason for this becomes clear, the horror of the situation is almost too much to bear. Billy Elliot this most certainly is not.
We realise that there is little hope for Delie, little hope for anybody in this place. In a moving soliloquy, the kind-hearted George (a warm performance from Geoff Leesley) laments the disintegration of his neighbourhood, observing the smashed bus stops, syringes and graffiti in a corner where “lovers once kissed, in Technicolor, against the Palace wall”. Alluding to a happier, gentler time, Cameron suggests that the social unrest of the community is the result of its devastating economic decline; that the repercussions of the pit closures of the 1980s are still wrecking the community today. (As if to underline the point, George delivers this monologue in a T-shirt emblazoned with the slogan: “Still Hate Thatcher”.)
Thankfully, there is a hint of redemption at the end. Roma escapes the clutches of her abusive partner and refuge newcomer Jean (played with quiet terror by Celia Robertson), grows in confidence and moves on from her unhappy past. But there is no clear resolution for Delie, no uplifting finale. When The Flannelettes do return for their final scene at the Miners’ Welfare Club, Delie launching into “One Fine Day” with the same sweet exuberance as before, the result is simply heart-breaking.
Do not be misled by the posters for the show which promise “bittersweet soul music of the 60s” above a colourful cartoon of a Motown tribute band, this is very much a play about the brutality of domestic abuse amid the desperation of a shattered community. The sixties soul classics ultimately provide little more than background music to the scene transitions which is perhaps as it should be; a heart-warming finale would not befit a subject matter as grim as this.
As Delie remarks early on: “I know life can’t always be the way I dream it to be.” Playwright Richard Cameron skilfully ensures that we are under no illusions about this either.
The Flannelettes continues at the King’s Head Theatre until June 6.
About Sophie Sellars
Sophie has spent many years travelling the world, organising film shoots. She is also an award-winning writer. Her work has been published in The Daily Telegraph, The Guardian and bellowed by Brian Blessed on the National Geographic Channel. She won the Daily Telegraph “Just Back” Travel Writing Prize for 2013 and her fiction has been shortlisted for the Mslexia Short Story Prize and Highly Commended in the Frome Festival Short Story Prize. When not writing or facilitating the absurd requests of Hollywood’s elite, Sophie can be found on her allotment admiring the pumpkins and thinking about dinner.
