January 25, 2012
In the days before Stephen Fry was a national treasure and generally beloved know-it-all, when he was still a student at Cambridge, he wrote the comedy two-hander Latin! Or: Tobacco and Boys. And, as you would perhaps expect from a play written by a young male student, sex is never far from the forefront.
The Burton Taylor studio is transformed into a classroom (well, there are some benches on the stage for the brave) as the audience become the students of Dominic Clarke, ably played by Barnabas Iley-Williamson, a Latin master with a passion for his subject, for youth, and for one of his 13 year old pupils, Cartwright. His relationship with the boy is found out by the pipe-smoking Herbert Brookshaw, played by Louis Fletcher, who promises to keep his secret in return for a bit of late night whipping from Cartwright and some activities with peanut butter that one can only assume wouldn’t involve toast.With that kind of subject matter it’s not that surprising that this play doesn’t get laid on very often.
There is a difficult balance to be held between simply getting laughs out of the shock of the controversial and getting laughs because of the witty writing. The steady stream of sexual innuendo was very funny, and the interaction between Mr Clarke and his imaginary students was entertaining, but I suspect that there may have been quite a few Latin sex jokes that went over my head. Either that or the rest of the audience were far more worldly than me.
Come the climax, I have to admit that I was left a little unsatisfied. I think maybe I just didn’t get the full thrust of the play. There’s no need for performance anxiety though. I’m sure it’s great, if you like that sort of thing.
The Burton Taylor studio is transformed into a classroom (well, there are some benches on the stage for the brave) as the audience become the students of Dominic Clarke, ably played by Barnabas Iley-Williamson, a Latin master with a passion for his subject, for youth, and for one of his 13 year old pupils, Cartwright. His relationship with the boy is found out by the pipe-smoking Herbert Brookshaw, played by Louis Fletcher, who promises to keep his secret in return for a bit of late night whipping from Cartwright and some activities with peanut butter that one can only assume wouldn’t involve toast.With that kind of subject matter it’s not that surprising that this play doesn’t get laid on very often.
There is a difficult balance to be held between simply getting laughs out of the shock of the controversial and getting laughs because of the witty writing. The steady stream of sexual innuendo was very funny, and the interaction between Mr Clarke and his imaginary students was entertaining, but I suspect that there may have been quite a few Latin sex jokes that went over my head. Either that or the rest of the audience were far more worldly than me.
Come the climax, I have to admit that I was left a little unsatisfied. I think maybe I just didn’t get the full thrust of the play. There’s no need for performance anxiety though. I’m sure it’s great, if you like that sort of thing.