Review: Spike
Anarchic talent, stuffy TV execs, pleading intermediaries, Spike treads the well-worn turbulent path of unchecked ambition brought before an establishment clique who like to tell their charges ‘the war is over’ whilst simultaneously not having noticed the world has moved on. The set up to the play is readily familiar - a little known but talented man, surrounded by bigger names (AKA The Goons) has ideas his superiors think are above his station and nigh impossible to execute with any measure of success. What ensues is the classic ebb and flow of advance, retreat and entrenchment. A handy juxtaposition, as it happens, to Milligan’s time in the war where the intransigence of his erstwhile military high command perfectly mirrors his experience within the light entertainment department at the BBC. Robert Wilfort effortlessly captures the garrulous energy of Spike Milligan; refusing to buckle before the lethargic behemoth. He corrals his better-paid peers Peter Sellers (Patrick Warner) and Harry Secombe (Jeremy Lloyd) to contribute towards a vehicle of explosive post-dadaist humour. Much to the chagrin of his BBC betters.
Written by Ian Hislop and Nick Newman, Spike jitterbugs with the energy of its protagonist: scene transitioning, sparring, stoked intent, smatter of jokes, scene transitioning; a veritable conveyer-belt of vignettes. And Milligan emerges from each cycle, if not quite vindicated, then with the certitude that the old ways of doing comedy have no traction in postwar Britain. The BBC Executive (Robert Mountford) has other ideas. He is stuck in his ways, simmers with discontent and knows his onions. Whilst recognisably an antagonist, ‘the man-at-the-Beeb’ is portrayed solely as a foil to Milligan’s ambition. He is in turn: exasperated, unconvinced by wayward methods, singularly lacking humour; and thus repeatedly seeks to thwart Milligan. Few who have seen representations of 1950s Britain would be surprised by any of this. However, we are never presented with a meaningful alternative worldview to that of Milligan’s. Not at least to any depth that may reasonably constitute a ‘manifesto’. As a result, little opportunity is offered to sympathise with a man who, like Milligan, is moving on from the war…albeit in the opposite direction and into the past.
The production’s one-note approach offers little in the way of personal insight. Milligan’s depression is never a beat away from another joke even when laid up in hospital. This monotonicity might conceivably be deliberate with the intent of fore-fronting Milligan’s bipolar condition. However, it also summons an unintentional V-effekt with little room for pathos where it surely ought to be.
A running gag is set around the BBC Secretary, Janet (Margaret Cabourn-Smith), whose name is consistently forgotten by the BBC Executive. An unintended irony, as the same inattention to detail could be said for every female character here. Milligan’s wife, June (Ellie Morris), is a regular presence yet remains a missed opportunity to further explore the inner turmoil of the man.
Hislop and Newman have relied on The Goon Show’s material to do much of the heavy lifting…pleasing much of the elderly audience who likely remember the show as first broadcast and subsequently are able to bask in the warm glow of nostalgia emanating from the stage. But there is little here on offer by way of relevance for younger generations which might help explain the less-than-half-full auditorium. That is a shame since Spike Milligan’s anarchic spirit should appeal to that demographic.
Paul Hart’s direction ensures Spike hits all the correct coordinates of its subject’s story. However, it is blunted by blanket homage. The irony being had Hislop and Newman taken their cue by leaning into Milligan’s lawless spirit, Spike might’ve been imbued with the same rabble-rousing rebelliousness. As must be, time mutes yesterday’s rebel into today’s legend. And legends should always loom large.
Spike runs 1st-5th Nov at King’s Theatre, Glasgow.