Bubbling and sparkling all the way with quirky, unique brilliance and charismatic charm, Victoria Wood was a shining gem of a national treasure. She may have died in 2016, but courtesy of media streams and re-runs, she and her treasures live on as fresh, vibrant, relevant and funny as ever, nowadays thrilling generations of younger funny bones as well as tingling through a fair few replacement joints.
Filling the little stage from start to finish with the joyousness of the woman and her work, dotted with quieter, poignant moments, Looking For Me Friend is performed, full of heart, by Paul L.Martin, aka Paulus The Cabaret Geek, and his partner and keyboard accompanist, Michael Roulston. To assist them in putting the croon in macaroon, the corn in Acorn and the fech in Ecclefechan, Paulus wears long, jolly jackets with half-mast sleeves, rainbow socks, yellow shoes, pink plimsolls, and briefly, a yellow beret and orange coat, indispensable for looking for me friend – Kimberley.
At the outset, he quips that the skills and talents of Victoria Wood CBE were so extensive and perfectly honed that it takes two men to do the job of one woman – and do it only half as well. (Applause.) But what each man does, he does fabulously, delivering full-blown nostalgia and hilarity via a repertoire of iconic songs and ballads, interspersed with facts, banter, personal anecdotes re Victoria and re themselves, sketchy skit-bits and repartee. Michael Roulston’s skilled and startlingly pianistic fingers are just the job for rippling worthy verve and enthusiasm into the intricacies of Wood’s pleasing melody lines and dynamic, rhythmic pulsings while his voice adds vocal harmonies and bits of banter as required. The job of delivering mighty impetus to the waterfall wonders of cascading words, though, goes to Paulus.
Musicality’s central, of course, when it comes to Victoria Wood, wittiest of wordsmiths, not just in the tunes but in the delicious flow, sound and rhythm of every word, sentence and quirky turn of phrase as they combine to bring stories and characters to life. This precise, detailed crafting was her passion. Wisely, Paulus doesn’t impersonate or imitate the inimitable Wood other than for brief moments. As a bald, gay man from Kent, with no aptitude for speaking ‘Northern’ he’d be backing a loser if he did. What he offers is twinkling, beaming joy and enthusiasm, masterly expression and enunciation and great delivery, all helping achieve his aim – and Vic’s – of spreading laughter.
Like Alan Bennett, Wood was also a keen observer of people, especially women, fascinated by their conversational quirks, preoccupations and bizarre goings-on at all their various stages of life. Result? The creation of hosts of wonderful characters, often wacky and surreal yet always warm and alive – think Boedicea Overall, Miss Babbs, Twink, Petula Gordino. Even as she rose to celebrity, Wood still operated at the chip-pan level and it’s her yo-yo juxtapositions of sublime and ridiculous that work to such superb comic affect, with a little non-PC teetering, too, on the edge of taste. At the drop of many a metaphorical hat, posh and pretentious crash-land onto down-to-earth mundane as we plummet – yet simultaneously elevate – from tea with the Queen to pumicing feet, from Moliere and Vivaldi to Ken and Deirdre, from Four Hail Marys to a Terry and June. Snippets of politics and psychology rub along with bunions, onions and macaroons, while an infinity of womanly discombobulations, philosophical musings and sexual exploits (or a lack thereof) run into chippies, clippies, Garibaldis, Stannah stair-lifts and Cary Grant in a tuxedo, as Victoria pricks pomposity, satirises the silly and shows us how ridiculous we are when we take ourselves too seriously. She also speaks out, Paulus says, for people in society who feel they don’t fit into traditional boxes – which covers nigh on every one, of course, the world over.
Paulus and Michael were visibly thrice thrilled to a billion bits to be in Sheffield tonight: once because Wood’s play Talent was first staged at the Crucible in 1978, again because it was 30 years ago to the day that the wonderful Wood and Walters drama Pat and Margaret first aired, and topping even that… they’d travelled through Irmston on the way over! Connecting warmly with audiences via bright banter like this is a skill gleaned from extensive cabaret experience, though it could be that some find their boundless adoration and overwhelming reverence and gratitude to the great lady so much over the top that it’s well on the way to sacred hagiolatry (which, alas, is on the way neither to Sheffield nor Irmston). After all, Victoria was a very private person, the most shy and modest of Dinner Ladies and, incidentally, a somewhat stern and sturdy mother to Eric Morecambe (fictionally speaking.)
For many, though, this uplifting, affectionate entertainment and the duo’s bouncing delivery of Wood’s hilarious, irrepressible work bring nothing but delight. Indeed, it’s almost as exciting and exhilarating as eating Eccles cakes in Eccles whilst reading The Woman’s Weekly with someone called Barry who’s just ordered two soups from a shaky waitress. Simply spiffing! Let’s do it!
Eileen Caiger Gray
