Billy Liar (tour)

Albert Finney, Tom Courtenay and Steve Guttenberg: just three of the
actor giants to have played Keith Waterhouse‘s incorrigible Yorkshire
fantasist on stage and screen. To their number add Ralf Little, the
fresh-faced star of this engaging revival of the 1960 play Waterhouse wrote
with Willis Hall shortly after publishing his original novel.

Having spawned a film, a musical and two TV series (a British sitcom
starring Jeff Rawle and Guttenberg’s short-lived US version), you might
think there was nothing more to add to the Liar legacy. However, the
strength of Anna Linstrum‘s touring production lies not in the nostalgic
memory it evokes of previous incarnations, but in the fresh light it shines
on a character whose stubborn refusal to accept the shackles of adulthood
will surely strike a chord with every console-twiddling, net-surfing
contemporary adolescent.

Nagged by his parents, stuck in a job he detests and lumbered with two
fiancees, each of whom think they have exclusive claim to his affections,
lowly undertaker’s clerk Billy Fisher (Little) has a habit of making his
life more difficult than it has to be. Small wonder he takes refuge in a
fantasy kingdom where he is supreme ruler, or pretends to have a job lined
up in London writing gags for a music hall comedian. Over the course of 24
eventful hours, Billy’s house of cards comes tumbling about his ears. But
when the chance to escape comes, will he take it?

Lanky, gawky and gangly, Little makes an endearingly clueless hero whose
cheeky-chappie charm doesn’t quite excuse his character’s inherent
selfishness. This is no star turn, however, with Paul Copley bringing
Northern grit to his role as Billy’s gruffly critical dad and Rachel
Leskovac wringing every chuckle out of his dumpy, orange-munching
girlfriend. Sarah Churm is also excellent as her shrewish rival Rita,
whose tart tongue (“Go back in the cheese with the other maggots!”) makes
Alex Ferguson‘s hairdryer look like a mild breeze in comparison.

Elsewhere Tracie Bennett is perhaps too young to convince as Little’s
world-weary mother, while as free-spirit Liz Joanna Page – last seen
playing a naked stand-in in Love Actually – can’t hold a candle to
her radiant screen counterpart Julie Christie. That instance apart, it’s a
testament to Linstrum’s ensemble that you leave singing the praises of her
cast rather than hankering for those who went before.

– Neil Smith (reviewed at the Churchill Theatre, Bromley)