Vile Bodies: Stage Version

You probably haven’t seen the stage version of Vile Bodies – I have.

An amateur production was put on in the 1970s. Most of the cast were students at SOAS but there were a few outsiders, including me in a cameo role as the Natty Young Man. It was, mostly unintentionally, very funny. The director’s father kept loudly interjecting “He’s wearing me suit … I recognise that topcoat”, etc. An enthusiastic student in the audience started proffering advice – “Don’t give him the money” etc. In short, it was a distinguished cast, although their distinction did not lie on the stage, in an undistinguished play.

Evelyn Waugh agrees. “I like Colonel Blount, though he is a figure from conventional farce. He was brilliantly played by Athol (sic) Stewart in a very poor dramatic version.” Athole Stewart (1879-1940) is almost forgotten these days but he “was a British stage and latterly film actor, often in authoritarian or aristocratic roles. On stage, he played in the original production of Noël Coward’s Hay Fever at the Ambassadors Theatre, London, in 1925. On film, he played Dr. Watson to Raymond Massey’s Holmes in The Speckled Band, in 1931” (Wikipedia). His role as Colonel Blount is not recorded.

In case you have forgotten here is the natty young man’s contribution to Vile Bodies.

“Now there was a very bland, natty, moustachioed young man sitting there who had been drinking away quietly in the corner without talking to anyone except for an occasional ‘Cheerio’ to Judge Skimp. Suddenly he got up and said:

‘Bet-you-can’t-do-this.’

He put three halfpennies on the table, moved them about very deliberately for a bit, and then looked up with an expression of pride. ‘Only touched each halfpenny five times, and changed their positions twice,’ he said. ‘Do-it-again if you like.’

‘Well, isn’t he a clever boy?’ said Lottie. ‘Wherever did they teach you that?’

‘Chap-in-a-train showed me,’ he said.

‘It didn’t look very hard,’ said Adam.

‘Just-you-try. Bet-you-anything-you-like you can’t do it.’

‘How much will you bet?’ Lottie loved this kind of thing.

‘Anything-you-like. Five hundred pounds.’

‘Go on,’ said Lottie. ‘You do it. He’s got lots of money.’

‘All right,’ said Adam.

He took the halfpennies and moved them about just as the young man had done. When he finished he said, ‘How’s that?’

‘Well I’m jiggered,’ said the young man. ‘Never saw anyone do it like that before. I’ve won a lot of money this week with that trick. Here you are.’ And he took out a note-case and gave Adam a five-hundred-pound note. Then he sat down in his corner again.

‘Well,’ said Lottie with approval, ‘that’s sporting. Give the boys a drink for that.’

So they all had another drink.

Presently the young man stood up again.

‘Toss you double-or-quits,’ he said. ‘Best-out-of-three.’

‘All right,’ said Adam.

They tossed twice and Adam won both times.

‘Well I’m jiggered,’ said the young man, handing over another note. ‘You’re a lucky chap.’

‘He’s got pots of money,’ said Lottie. ‘A thousand pounds is nothing to him.’

She liked to feel like that about all her guests. Actually in this young man’s case she was wrong. He happened to have all that money in his pocket because he had just sold out his few remaining securities to buy a new motor car. So next day he bought a second-hand motor bicycle instead.” (Vile Bodies)