My City

Ignoring the pretty ordinary reviews, I entered the Almeida Theatre full of anticipation to see "My City" the first play written (and directed) by Stephen Poliakoff for twelve years. In that time he has created some of the best films for television ever shown. My fantastic box set of DVDs include "Shooting the Past", "Perfect Strangers", "The Lost Prince", "Friends and Crocodiles" (my favourite) and "Gideon's Daughter". Any of these would have made a good feature film at the cinema, but like his latest movie "Glorious 39", there is limited appeal. So he made a series of films for television which have won great acclaim, including his latest excellent productions "Joe's Palace" and "Capturing Mary". I just love everything of his I have seen.

So it was a big disappointment that "My City" was such a let down. The problem was that there was such little plot. Poliakoff has always been good on narrative, but here all we have is basically a collection of stories and memories. The action takes place over one night, when two twenty somethings meet their old headmistress and two of her colleagues who are all now retired. The story of how they inspired their pupils unfolds over the course of the night. There are periodic flashbacks to school assemblies (an exciting device to start with) as head Miss Lambert (very well plated by Tracey Ullman) Mr Minken (a brilliant David Troughton) and Miss Summers (Sorcha Cusack) address the children (the audience) and tell stories that stay with them for ever. Yes, it is like being taken to the past  in a particularly interesting assembly, but we are not children any more, and we need something more inspirational and emotional from a play than that.

The two ex pupils are in fact very well acted by Tom Riley and Sian Brooke, and when they cross examine their old teachers, the old Poliakoff sparks start to fly, but this is all too rare. The dialogue is always good, but that is what you expect from this writer. But in the end it is a pretty flat affair. I guess my memory of the play will also be tarnished by the journey home. Two hours and ten minutes was not funny. The Holloway Road was blocked and turning round to find the way I came in via the A40 was a disaster. First I got lost and ended up nearly going over the river. Found my way to the Aldwych and all was fine. But the A40 had night roadworks and the jams going into one lane were awful. I would have been better off joining Miss Lambert on one of her nightly walks around the city.