Curtain Up (75 page)

Dear Hubert,

How very nice to hear from you. Thanks for the birthday greetings – I am snowed under with demands from Journalists of periodicals with incredible names that I have never heard of – and from countries that I did not know existed!

How delightful therefore to hear from a real friend! [In the light of his book, I'm not sure he was, but we'll let it pass.]

I'm interested in what you say about plays – I got a letter only yesterday from a woman who had gone to see The Mousetrap (after waiting to for 9 years) and ‘Oh the joy of seeing a play that was exciting and where nobody took their clothes off! I am recommending it to all my friends!'

I have got two plays laid aside which I quite like myself – one I started for Margaret Lockwood and her daughter to play in – and then they had a row, I think, and parted company – and so I laid it aside for the time being – there was a general feeling voiced by Peter that it would damage The Mousetrap if another play of mine saw the light of day.

I think now that that is not so. Every year I expect the Mousetrap to come off – and every year it stands up like a permanent monument – it's uncanny!

When I get back to Wallingford, if you'd like me to, I'll hunt up these two plays – they are both comedies – and more on the lines of Spider's Web – and I think there are some good acting parts in both of them.

‘This Mortal Coil' has a first act in a business office and a second act in a Seaside Luxury Hotel – The other play takes place in a Pub. It's too short and wants another scene which I was going to write – but never did. I'll also think over my more recent books with a view to one that might be adaptable.

Perhaps we can meet in London or Wallingford when I get back and talk things over. [Agatha now divided her time between Greenway, her house in Wallingford and her London flat.]

We leave here about 20th September. It would be great fun to see you of course and have a nice theatrical talk –

Yours ever

Agatha Mallowan
¹²⁷

In 1968 the London opening of the hippy musical
Hair
, with its famous nude sequence at the end of Act One, had been delayed until the Theatres Act of that year – which finally abolished censorship – came into effect. Two years later, Kenneth Tynan's revue
Oh! Calcutta!
, another import from New York, also gained notoriety for featuring nudity. And now, at the end of 1970 and the beginning of 1971, Agatha busied herself with rewriting
This Mortal Coil
, renaming it
Fiddlers Five
in the process, and relishing the idea of creating a comedy in which no one took their clothes off in the newly censor-free West End. Work in progress for the revised version, again using as its basis a draft that appears to have been typed by Christie herself, has a label saying ‘Fiddlers Five' stuck over the original title, and includes extensive interleaved amendments. A later version is professionally typed.

In April, once it was finished, she wrote to Gregg again. There had been a postal strike and problems with the telephone. ‘Everything has been chaotic and I have also been trying to get a new book more or less finished,' she said. But the playscript was ready. ‘I always liked it and have now rewritten it – if you'd care to have a look at it – Hughes Massie have a copy of the newest version. I didn't know whether it was tied
up to Peter Saunders but I gather not –
I
think it is rather good!! But never go by what the author thinks – rather on the lines of Spider's Web – anyway, quite good fun – no nudity – which I think people are heartily sick of!'
¹²⁸

Saunders, as it happens, thought no more of
Fiddlers Five
than he had of
This Mortal Coil
and turned it down; as indeed did Gregg. Saunders later said, ‘I would, of course, have put it on out of gratitude to her, but felt it would not do her reputation any good. When it was tried out later on I think everyone agreed that it was not vintage Christie.'
¹²⁹
But the resourceful Cork, aware that, as ever, there would be no shortage of touring managements more than happy to take on a new Christie play, did a deal with veteran actor-manager James Grant Anderson, and on 6 May 1971 he was issued with a twelve-month touring licence for
Fiddlers Five
.
¹³⁰
Whilst Grant Anderson himself was not a West End player, it seems that there was some hope that his production would garner interest in the project from those who were, and the deal included a clause whereby he would receive a 1 per cent royalty if a West End licence was issued within this period.

Although she was absent from some of Peter Saunders' own later productions of her work, Agatha made a point of being in attendance for the touring premiere of her new play at the King's Theatre Southsea on 7 June 1971, at which seventy-four-year-old Grant Anderson made a gracious and stirring curtain speech applauding her lifetime's contribution to theatre. The advertisements for the production read, ‘J Grant Anderson has the great privilege to present the world premiere of Agatha Christie's FIDDLERS FIVE: AN OUTSTANDING EVENT IN THE THEATRE – DAME AGATHA'S FIRST NEW PLAY FOR YEARS.'
¹³¹

The next day, the
Portsmouth Evening News
reported: ‘The name of Dame Agatha Christie is one automatically associated with thrillers and mystery; comedy isn't reckoned to be her
forte.
But last night, with the world premiere of her
Fiddlers Five
at the King's Theatre Southsea, the Queen of suspense proved that she had a light hand with comedy.'
¹³²
Two days later, the
Hampshire Telegraph
's review noted that ‘Miss
Christie introduces no detectives, no policemen, no interrogations. Everything is in the lightest vein, verging at times on farce.'
¹³³
The Stage
, under the headline ‘A Different Agatha Christie', announced that ‘Agatha Christie's latest play . . . has deserted the familiar path of the “whodunit” type of thriller with those well-known guides Hercules Poirot [
sic
] and Miss Marples [
sic
], in order to go a little off-beat into the realms of black comedy . . . all the time the action is played for laughs rather than chills, but once the story-line has been established there is plenty of humour and sparkle to carry it along to the usual surprise climax.'
¹³⁴
Barry Howard, later to enjoy success as a television comedy actor, scored a particular hit in the dual role of an undertaker and a ‘long-bearded Pakistani doctor', both ‘shrewdly conceived comic creations'. The mind boggles.

Like the Beatles' George Harrison in his 1966 song ‘Taxman', Christie made the most of the opportunity to express her frustration with the tax regime through her work. Over forty years earlier, her sister Madge had observed in
Oranges and Lemons
, ‘Now we're taxing wealth. What harm does wealth do a country? If there
is
a man capable of making money, for Heaven's sake encourage him to make more!'
Fiddlers Five
offers Agatha's own scathing verdict on the Inland Revenue, and it pulls no punches:

       
BOGUSIAN: Fortunately on a bus, one does not have to pay. There is a special technique. I adopt it always.

       
FLETCHER: That's the way of business, Sally.

       
SALLY: Not all business. There are some kinds of business that aren't like that.

       
BOGUSIAN: And then what happens? The tax collector takes all. Why should I do business to please the Inland Revenue?

       
SALLY: Don't talk to me about Income Tax and the Inland Revenue! Barefaced robbers they are! Look what they did to Lil West. Just went out to work, casual like, to get a bit of extra pay for her washing machine. Took the best of it away from her. And why, I'd like to know? She worked
for it, didn't she? Why should they count it in with her husband? And poor old Ma Grant, they docked her Old Age Pension – said she did too much sewing at home. And then there was the poor old Smiths – on National Assistance and they cut that because –

       
FLETCHER: Ease up, Sally, ease up. We know all about that.

       
SALLY: Well, it makes me mad, it does! I'll give them Inland Revenue!

       
BOGUSIAN: You see, in business you do the business in a way that the tax collector, he cannot touch it. And when the business comes off nicely and you have the big money, why then you look round for some more business that will be like that again . . .

       
. . .

       
FLETCHER: Look here, Sally, if you don't want to be a criminal, say so.

       
SALLY: I'm all for crime. But it's got to be the right sort of crime.

       
FLETCHER: Aren't you particular? Quite the little lady. And what's the right kind of crime?

       
SALLY: Well, smuggling – something like that. Or doing down the income tax. I'd swindle them any day. Monstrous what they did to Lil and poor old Mrs Grant. Let's do down the income tax! I wouldn't have conscience at all about that!

       
BOGUSIAN: Ah, but it is highly specialised that. I tell you, I know.

       
FLETCHER: I bet you do, you old crook!

       
BOGUSIAN: Last year, they dare to question my return. I go there. I see this Mr Blood Sucker. I say to him, ‘Listen,' I say, ‘In this return I make, I cheat you very little – hardly at all. If I wish I could have cheated you much more. But no, I like to be honest.' ‘So,' I say to him, ‘You better to accept this. Otherwise I take it back and I fill you up another return, and in that I cheat you a great deal – but you will not be able to find out how. Because if I wish to cheat, I can cheat very good. So, you see, you better to accept this.'

       
SALLY: And what did he do?

       
BOGUSIAN: He accepted it. He knows me.
¹³⁵

Rosalind was horrified. The previous year her mother had been feted as a national treasure on her eightieth birthday, and in the 1971 New Year's Honours she had been made a Dame Commander of the British Empire, Max having been knighted three years previously. Much of Christie's literary career had been centred around the theme of criminals receiving their comeuppance, and yet suddenly she appeared to be endorsing criminal activity, apparently from a position of knowledge. Rosalind was even more horrified to hear that there had been a serious offer to present the play in the West End, particularly as the production itself appears to have been somewhat low rent. On 20 July Cork wrote to Grant Anderson in no uncertain terms, expressing his dismay at numerous aspects of the performances and staging,
¹³⁶
and on the same day, Rosalind wrote to her mother:

As you know, there has been quite a good offer to put Fiddlers Five on in London in the winter. I think Cork is tempted partly as usual by the prospect of it earning some more money and partly because he thinks
you
would like to see it put on in London. I think he is doubtful about it though, as he doesn't like it himself. Whatever he may say about it, Mathew is not sure about it and didn't think it was very well done or well received in Bristol. I am sending you the press cuttings from Nottingham and Manchester not because I want to be unkind but because I know Mr Cork doesn't send you anything he thinks might upset you. Actually, I don't expect you would be nearly as upset about them as I am! I as you know haven't seen it but I didn't like it when I read it, and as I am always honest with you I may say I should be
most
upset to see it on in London. A lot of people would obviously go to see it because it was by you, whatever the reviews were like. Peter Saunders genuinely thought it wouldn't do in London. I expect you and Max will think it is very feeble of me but your fans do admire
your work and indeed you yourself to a quite frightening degree. I don't think this play is worthy of
you
, and you are in this play letting people get away with crime and cheating the income tax and even in fun I don't think it is funny.
¹³⁷

This, of course, was a red rag to a bull, and elicited by way of response one of the most extraordinary letters Agatha ever wrote. In a handwritten missive ten pages long, she is clearly apoplectic about her daughter's interference, and takes the opportunity to itemise the many swings and roundabouts of her theatrical career in great detail. Much of this extraordinary letter is quoted elsewhere in this book, in the context of the plays to which she is refers, but here is a filleted version:

Dear Rosalind,

I'm sorry you are so upset about the awful prospect of Fiddlers Five possibly being done in London.

I've not urged it specially – I can't see why you are so opposed to it being a commercial success on tour . . . if anyone is prepared to put up big money to put it on with a good cast in London – it will be presumably because it has been commercially a success. It is, as always, a pure gamble on their part.

If they are really influenced by bad notices they presumably won't put it on!! I shan't mind – I have had the great pleasure of seeing it acted myself – I am delighted it has gone onto tour – Like Verdict it will probably go on tour again at intervals in the years to come!

Spider's Web, a pure farce if there ever was one – ran for 2 years at the Savoy and took £1800 at Richmond a week or so ago. I knew I'd get bad reviews [for
Fiddlers Five
] and I've had several rather surprising good ones – and 5 curtain calls at many theatres.

The Mousetrap – on tour originally – had only
one
criticism that could be used in adverts – all the others were somewhat unfavourable.