THE ACTOR AS DRAMATIST

A STUDY OF THE PLAYS OF JOHN OSBORNE

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by

DAVID SMITH
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Subnitted for the Degree

of Master of Philosophy
of the University of
St Andrews.

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 I, David Smith, hereby certify
that this thesis, which is app~
roximately sixty thousand words
' in length, has been written by
me, that it is a record of work

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carried out by me, and that it
has not been submitted in any
previous application for a
higher degree. IE
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PR

Sign»

Date.j2
I was admitted as a research |
student under Ordinance No.12 J
"in October 1983 and as a can- j
didate for the Degree of ‘ 'j
Master of Philosophy on 22 j
June 1984; the higher study for i
which this is a record was ' |
carried out in the University I
of St. Andrews between I983 I

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and 1984. I

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Signgc
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Date. .^!q
 ï

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I hereby certify that
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candidate has fulfilled the
conditions of the Resolution
and Regulations appropriate to
the Degree of Master of
Philosophy of the University
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of S t . Andrews and that he is
qualified to submit this
thesis in application for that
degree.
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Signed* * *« » * * *.
Dr,"nE^ H. P 'ry
Supervis

Date,

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In submitting this thesis to
IEthe University of S t . Andrews
I understand that I am giving
permission for it to be made
available for use in
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accordance with the
regulations of the University
Library for the time being in
force, subject to any
copyright vested in the work
not being affected thereby. I
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also understand that the title

and abstract will be
published, and that a copy of
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supplied to any^ bona-fide
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 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

In preparing this thesis I have been fortunate to receive

help and guidance from a number, of individuals. At the
risk of missing out some names, I should like to offer
particular thanks to the following: to Brian Hull and to
Alastair Mclnnes for help during the early stages of the
project, to Philip Parry for his encouragement and valuable
advice, to Patricia Richardson for help through the tangled
web of academic red tape, to Jackie Warden and Michelle
Swales for their typing skills and to Martin Bishop for the
use of his word processor, to John McCabe and my fellow

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residents of Deanscourt for a pleasant place to live and to
work, to the staff of the Theatre Museum at the Victoria and
Albert Museum for access to a wide range of archive material
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and lastly to the Open University for starting me off.
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 CONTENTS

Abstract P.7

Chapter One; Introduction P .8

Chapter Two: The Theatre P.21

Chapter Three: The Actors P.104

Chapter Four: The Homosexuals P .172

Bibliography P .208

Appendix P.210

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 ABSTRACT

This thesis examines John Osborne's work in the light of his experiences
in the theatre prior to his rise to fame as a dramatist and also as a
working actor during the greater part of his career as a dramatist. The
thesis deals with Osborne's work both for the theatre and for television,
but excludes those texts which have been published but remain as yet un­
performed, It concentrates upon his original plays and with the exception
of A Bond Honoured it does not discuss his adaptations of the work of other
authors,
Chapter One of the thesis serves as an introduction to the arguments to follow,
using elements of Osborne's biography as a basis. The second chapter examines '
the contention that the world of the theatre is a major factor in the setting
of some of his more important plays. The Entertainer is cited as the most
obvious example iin this regard, but it is argued that a similar use of the
theatre can be identified in Enitaph for George Dillon. Time Present. The
Hotel in Amsterdam, and latterly in You're Not Watching Me, Mummy. In aidd-

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ition, Chapter Two examines the less obvious elements of theatricality which
can be identified in The World of Paul Slickey, Luther. Plays for England,
Inadmissible Evidence, A Patriot for Me, A Bond Honoured. West of Suez. A
Sense of Detachment and the later television plays, the main thrust of the
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argument being that, although not overtly of the theatre, a great deal of
theatrical devices and references lie within the subtext of the plays, de­
riving from the author's long association with, and his obvious affection for
the theatre.
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Chapter Three argues that Osborne's close ties with the theatre lead to his
populating his plays with theatre people: with actors. This is clearly to be
seen in Epitaph for George Dillon. The Entertainer and Time Present where the
leading characters are actors by trade. However, the discussion is extended to
cover the majority of Osborne's major plays wherein the leading characters
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can be identified as actor-types, displaying many of the attributes of the

professional actor except the job itself. Notable in this regard are Jimmy
Porter, Luther, Bill Maitland and Alfred Redl.

The fourth chapter examines Osborne's frequent use of homosexuality, both

explicit and implied, as a dominant trait of his major characters. It is
argued that as actors or actor-types the characters display an ambivalence
which is often realised in sexual terms. The most obvious example is to be
found in A Patriot for Me, but a great many of Osborne's major characters, for
example Archie Rice, Jimmy Porter and Laurie, display a degree of sexual am­
biguity which provides a common theme.

Finally, in an appendix to the thesis, there is a collection of press crit­

icism of the first performances of Osborne's plays together with details (where
available) of the first performances.
 C H A P T E R ONE

INTRODUCTION

The purpose of this thesis is to suggest that John Osborne’s

experiences - in the theatre, largely but not solely as an actor,

are major factors in the the shaping of his plays,

John Osborne (born 12 December 1929) is no longer considered

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to be a contemporary dramatist; his work cannot be
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described as 'ultra modern' and he is not in the position of

regularly
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creating new plays which are accorded the respect of a

prestigious production. Once considered to be the most

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influential dramatist at work in Britain, he has not had a new

play produced since You're Not Watching Me, Mummy in 1980, and

although he admits to having ’a dozen plays in the drawer waiting

2
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for a decent production’, until a new Osborne play receives

critical acclaim, he will continue to be regarded largely as a

figure of the 1950s and 1960s.

Osborne’s connection with the theatre began, in earnest, in

1948 when he secured a job as Assistant Stage Manager with

3
a touring production of No Room at The Inn by Joan Temple. Prior

to this, he had made some brief appearances in sketches and revue

whilst at school in Devonshire, and he had dabbled in

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amateur theatricals at home in North Cheam. He had a rather

tenuous link with the music hall via his maternal grandfather;
 My grandfather, as young William Crawford Grove, was said
to be the smartest publican in London, becoming manager at
an early age of a pub in Duncannon Street, alongside St
Martin-in-the-Fields. The name of the pub was simply the
Duncannon and it is still there, a rather anonymous,
fluorescent place clearly quite unlike the fashionable
hostelry it had been during my grandparents’ tenure. It
was frequented by theatrical folk a good deal, including
Marie Lloyd.

A central part of the folklore of this period of their life-

was that my grandmother, pregnant with my mother, came down
the stairs of the Duncannon one morning to find Miss Lloyd
r eeling - around the sawdust-covered bar swearing and
shouting. My grandmother drew herself up and ordered the
barman to escort Miss Lloyd out and hail her a hansom cab.
Whereupon, the story continued. Miss Lloyd screamed up the

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stairs at the young mother-to-be, ’Don't you fucking well
talk to me. I've just left your old man after a weekend in
Brighton!’ I don't know whether this part of the ballad of
Grandma is true, but it has an encouraging ring of tinsel
fact about it. Anyway, it makes a nice family tableau, and
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is also the only recorded link I have with the theatrical
profession. (5)
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From 1948 until 1956, Osborne worked in various repertory

theatres in the provinces and in the Home Counties. The standard

of theatre in which he was engaged was, by his own account, low;

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mainly weekly repertory or one-night-stand provincial tours. Of

his time at Frinton-on-Sea he writes:

Old ladies arrived in chauffeur - driven cars to

performances of more or less chauffeur - driven plays. I
lasted about three weeks. (6)

During this period , he began his playwriting career. In

collaboration with Stella Lindon he wrote a play called

Resting D e e p , which was reworked, retitled The Devil Inside ,and

was produced at Huddersfield in 1950:

 On Easter Monday, 1950, I sat in the stalls of the Theatre
Royal, Huddersfield, watching the world opening performance
of my own play... After less than eighteen months in the
theatre, I was watching my own play, or a version of it,
being performed in a professional theatre... and there was
nine pounds to show for it, a week's salary. (7)

Shortly after his debut as a dramatist, Osborne returned to

the stage as an actor with the Saga Repertory Company in

Ilfracombe, a company jointly run by Clive St George and Anthony

Creighton. Epitaph for George Dillon, Osborne's first really

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successful piece of writing - although not the first to be

successfully staged - was written in collaboration with Creighton

and

until
they
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spent some months sharing flats in and

1955, when they moved on to a houseboat on the

around

Thames
London

at
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Chiswick. During this period, Osborne worked on Look Back in

Anger and,in August of that year, he sent a copy of the play to

George Devine, the Artistic Director of the newly formed English

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Stage Company, a company whose primary objective was to stage new

plays by new writers. That George Devine like!the play and that

it was staged, with qualified but growing success, is now history

- almost folklore.

For an actor to write plays is far from uncommon. In his

book. The Modern Actor, Michael Billington writes:

Scratch an actor these days [l973] and you find a dramatist:

an exaggeration perhaps but a ponderable one. For even if
the acting business is in a terrible muddle, even if the
profession is desperately overcrowded, even if there is too
much gossipy publicity about private lives, one fact is very
much to the industry's credit: that many of the best new
dramatists started their careers as actors.

10
 John Osborne, Harold Pinter, Peter Nicholls, Charles Wood,
Henry Livings, Alun Owen, Charles Dyer all began as actors
and many of them can still be seen performing from time to
time. John Osborne, with his cawing voice, high cheekbones
and look of sullen fury was very impressive as the doomed
aristocrat in David Mercer’s television study of post-war
Germany, The Parachute. Harold Pinter crops up periodically
in his own plays; he played Lenny in The Homecoming at
Watford for instance and according to Martin Esslin was even
better than Ian Holm in the original production because his
particular brand of East End sharpness fitted the role
beautifully.(8) And Henry Livings tends to do a good bit of
radio, television and theatre work north of the Trent,
peddling a nice line in amiable gormlessness,(9)

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Indeed, his acting talent was acknowledged by Kenneth Tynan

during Osborne's early days with the English Stage Company at the

Royal Court. Of
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of Identity, Tynan wrote :
Osborne's performance in Nigel Dennis' Cards
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Who should turn up, wearing false sabre teeth and a hairless
d o m e , but John Osborne, ruthlessley funny as the Custodian
of Ancient Offices. The Royal Court's captive dramatist
stands out from an excellent cast. (10)
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and the theatre critic of The Times acknowledged that:

Among good minor performances are those of Mr. John Osborne,

Mr. Kenneth Haigh and Mr. George Devine.(11)

Neither is it new for an actor to write plays: Noel Coward

provides an excellent example of a man who wrote plays in order

to furnish himself with satisfactory roles in which to display

his talents. For most of the first half of this century, he

dominated the world of light comedy as author, as actor, and

often as director. Such plays as Hay Fever, Bitter Sweet, Private

Lives and Design for Living were, , whatever their shortcomings as

drama, splendid vehicles for the exposition of their creator's

. 11
own brand of clipped-vowelled, camp humour.

First, and understandably on the basis that writers write

from experience, Osborne uses the theatre (and the world of the

cinema and television) a great deal as a setting for his plays.

Perhaps the most obvious example is The Entertainer, first

produced in 1957, which is concerned, on the surface, with the

fortunes of a failing music hall artist, Archie Rice. The action

of the play takes place in the theatrical lodgings which the Rice

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family have taken for a short season, and also, most

significantly, on the stage IE of the theatre itself, as the

audience witnesses A r chie’s performance. Epitaph for George

Dillon, which was written in 1955, but not staged until 1958,
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concerns the fortunes of a struggling actor/writer a n d , although

it is not set in the theatre, is most definitely of the theatre.

Similarly, Time Present has the world of the theatre as its

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setting. The leading character is an actress and she is

surrounded, predominantly, by theatre people. The companion

piece to Time Present, The Hotel in Amsterdam (both were first

staged in 1968),concerns a group of friends from the world of the

cinema. One of O s b o r ne’s latest plays. You're Not Watching Me,

Mummy, a play for television published in 1978, moves directly

back the world of the a u t h o r ’s own experience, being set

backstage in a major West End theatre.

It is inevitable that many of the characters in plays which

have a theatrical setting will be actors and actresses, and this

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is the second dominant trait in a great deal of Osborne's output.

Many of his leading characters, and a significant number of his

subsidiary characters,are actors (or actresses). At the beginning

of Epitaph, George Dillon is an unsuccessful actor who, during

the course of the play, becomes a financially successful

dramatist, but he achieves this success at the expense of his

artistic principles. Archie Rice is, of course,the archetypal

Music Hall artist and both his father, Billy,and his son, Frank,

are in the business with him. In this regard The Entertainer is

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unusual because it is the only play in which the actor is

witnessed doing his job on the stage. In addition, there are many
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instances, and these are discussed later in this thesis, of

actors behaving in an actorly fashion offstage, but in The

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Entertainer, the stage routines of Archie, and to a much lesser

degree Frank, are a vital constituent of the action. In Time

Present, the central figure is an actress, Pamela. Although she

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shares an apartment with a woman Member of Parliament, the

majority of the play's characters are theatrical: actors,

actresses, writers, agents. Similarly, in You're Not Watching Me

Mummy, the central character is an actress and she is surrounded

by a large group of hangers-on, including actors and actresses.

In addition to using the theatre as a setting, and by

implication populating his plays with actors, Osborne, in a large

number of cases, creates characters who display many, if not all,

of the characteristics of an actor except the title that goes

with the job. Jimmy Porter, in Look Back in Anger.performs in

13

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his own private music hall act, and he hides behind the charade

of the squirrels and bears routine which he and his wife share.

Bill Maitland, the character who dominates Inadmissible Evidence,

is a lawyer, and a lawyer is required to perform in front of an

audience composed of a judge and jury. Martin Luther, as a

clergymen, is required, by nature of his calling, to perform from

the pulpit, and in the same play, Luther, Tetzel sells his

indulgences with great style and showmanship. In A Patriot for

Me, Afred Redl, the ambitious young army officer, has to act the

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role of the heterosexual in order to avoid the public

recognitition of his
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promising career. Subsequently, when blackmailed into spying for

a hostile power, he has to assume the role of patriot in order to

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survive.

The actor belongs to a profession which imposes uniquely

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demanding pressures upon its membership. He is required to assume

the characteristics of another person as part of his daily

routine, and this is not necessarily a permanent state; these

characteristics may have to be changed regularly according to the

precise nature of the actor's work.

This puts demands upon the actor which are often manifested in

a suggestion of ambiguity reaching back into the character of the

actor himself. For example, an off-duty actor will often

embellish the telling of an ordinary joke with exaggerated

gesture and all the appropriate vocal decorations, turning a run-

of-the-mill story into a miniature theatrical masterpiece.

14
Alan Ayckbourn, an actor before he became a successful

dramatist, relates a typical actorly story. Clearly, it loses a

little when read rather than heard, but the performance is still

discernible ;

We were playing in the Lauriston Hall, which is a Jesuit

Hall, in Edinburgh. It was one of those exciting plays
where you could start with the curtain open: it was fain
electric curtain. And, as I used to call the Half, Donald
[JWolfit) would say: 'You know, there’s no harm in a little

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drink before a show. Can you get me some drinks in here?’
And he gave me some money. He said ’I want a bottle of gin
and six bottles of Guiness.' So I said ’Y e s ’. He said
D o n ’t let them be seen coming in, because you know what I'm
dressing in, don't you? You know what this room is?' I said
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'No'. He said 'It's the confessional'. I said 'Ah, is it?'
And he said 'And the priests are outside, so can you bring
them in quietly?' so I whipped out to the off-licence and I
smuggled in these bottles, past these long-garbed, eagle-
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eyed gentlemen who were standing on the front step, smiling
at the audience as they came in. And I took them to Donald
Wolfit - and this is a true story that no-one ever believes.
He poured himself a gin, then he said 'Some water'. There
was no water, obviously, in his dressing room. And I said
'Well, the only water is at the other side of the stage, Mr.
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Wolfit, sir. And the curtain’s up, so I c a n ’t get across.’

He said 'Use your initiative. There must be some water in
the building. ’ And he strode away, with me in tow, crashed
down this passage, opened the door and we were in the
chapel. And there was this barrel - I swear - that had 'Holy
Water' on it. And he topped up his glass with holy water
and said 'You see what I mean?' I'd never seen a man drink
gin and holy water before. Wonderful. (12)

M o r e seriously, Ayckbourn later describes how actors are

tempted to perform even when not in performance. Talking about

an occasion when he was directing his own play. Bedroom Farce at

the National Theatre, he relates :

They [the understudies] were a lovely bunch, but every time

there was anything funny, they laughed. Now that was super.

15
 The actors loved it. But as Michael Kitchen said, the
second time he did it, he didn't get such a good laugh,
because they'd seen it; and the fifteenth time he did it, he
didn't get a laugh at all. What happened then, said
Michael, was that he began to push the business up to try to
get the laugh back again. And so he was playing
artificially because an actor of any sort plays to anything
that's there.(13)

Ayckbourn's last sentence is most apposite in the case of

Osborne's actors, real and disguised. Archie Rice performs

constantly, both on and off the stagehand his real and performed

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selves slowly merge as the action of the play develops. Jimmy

Porter, on the other hand, has a ready-made audience in his own

music hall routines

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bedsitting room and his actorly tirades as well as his

are performed for the benefit of

home-made

anyone

present.
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So there is a suggestion of ambiguity inherent in the actor 4

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type as he moves from role to role. But Michael Anderson goes a

step further:

The actor type often nourishes a strong vein of sexual

ambivalence. Psychologists rarely tire of telling us that
every human being is a blend of masculine and feminine
qualities; but whereas most of us, even in this liberated
age, tend to suppress the role for which nature has not
physically equipped us, and do our best to carry on as gruff
he-men or coy she-women, the actor often spices his or her
performance with a dash of bisexuality. 'Thank God I'm
normal,' sings Archie Rice in The Entertainer. 'I'm just
like the rest of you chaps.' But hardly any of Osborne's
protagonists can be said to be normal in the conventional
sense of the word. Only A Patriot for Me has homosexuality
as its central subject, but one Osborne character after
another betrays a fascination with the theme. Here, too, we
may see the actor type opening up the secret world of self
indulgence for his audience, touching on forbidden
sensibilities with a frankness which the restraints of
everyday life forbid. (14)

16

^ ■- ...y i l ..-n.ti'isk' -iU. ,iys .. y

Anderson's view is neitHer bizare nor unique. Perhaps it is

simply that the rules of conventional society may be, to an

extent, disregarded within the confines of the theatrical

profession, thereby allowing predilections and personal traits to

be openly expressed which in a different social context, for

example in the Armed Forces or in the Civil Service, would be

vigorously suppressed. However, it may be true that there are

more homosexuals engaged in the theatrical profession than

elsewhere. Whichever is the case, there would appear to be a

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genuine link between homosexuality and the theatre. Donald M.

Kaplan claims: IE
Homosexuality - actually and idealogically - has always
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hovered about the theatre like a specter, by virtue,
notably, though not exclusively, of something essential and
unwitting in the acton (15)
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He goes on:

Personality correlates with vocational undertakings are

virtually non-existent. Something is known about interests
and attitudes in connection with certain vocational choices,
e.g. the interests and attitudes of forest rangers are
statistically different from those of dentists. But
personality factors, which are matters of cognitive style,
temperament, emotional liability, psychological endurance,
vary considerably from individual to individual within a
vocational category... Now I have no formal evidence to
support t h i s , but I do have a strong clinical impression
that performing artists - dancers and actors - constitute an
exception; they do share a common personality characteristic
with each other and not a trivial one. My impression is
that in the actor's personality make-up there is an unstable
identifacatory experience which the actor exploits as an
opportunity rather than complains of as an obstacle; that
is, the derivations of a pathogenic experience are perceived
by the actor as assets rather than symptoms...The actor is
one step behind the homosexual. The actor must just chance
and beguile the authority, which he sees embodied in the

17
 theatre audience, as well as the audience created out of the
social environment. And having succeeded in this by
perpetuating the illusion of a committed identity in the
execution of a role, he is then free of guilt - the audience
shows approval by applause and the actor is free to return
to his private life to indulge the perversity his naturally
weak identity has not transformed. Indeed, we fully expect
this of the actor. (16)

Kaplan comes dangerously close to overstating his case; 'the

actor is one step behind the homosexual' is a view which would

be resented by many members of the theatrical profession.

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Nevertheless, Kaplan's views provide an interesting anticipation

of Anderson's previously quoted contention, and even if that too

is an oversimplification,
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their combination clearly reinforces

the view that there is, inherent in the actor's character, an

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ambiguity which may manifest itself in sexual terms.

Evidence in support of this view may be called from within

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the profession itself. William Hall, in his biography of Michael

Caine, Raising Caine, quotes from the actor:

They needed tough-looking guys, and as I'd just come out of

the army I was built like a brick wash-house. Most of the
other fellows were just a little gay, so when they needed
some big rough guy to come in, they had to give me the
part.(17)

And Lord Olivier writes, in his Confessions of an Actor, o f his

early friendship with Noel Coward:

I had got over like a spendthrift sigh my nearly passionate

involvement with the one male with whom some sexual
dalliance had not been loathsome for me to contemplate. I

18
%
 had felt it desperately necessary to warn him that, dustily
old fashioned as it must seem, I had ideals which must not
be trodden underfoot and destroyed, or I would not be able
to answer for the consequences and neither would he.

It must be exceedingly difficult to believe that, in spite

of my history as a pampered choirboy, and the attentions
paid to me at the next school (which, no matter how
unwelcome, unfairly labelled me as the school tart), I felt
that the homosexual act would be a step darkly destructive
to my soul; I was firm in my conviction that heterosexuality
was romantically beautiful, immensely pleasurable, and
rewarding in the contentment.

It is surprising that this faith should have withstood an

onslaught of such passionate interest, and that this,
together with the disillusionment that followed the initial

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experience of my early marriage, did not throw me off course
or even make me waiver - well, perhaps I must allow that it
did do t h a t .
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It would be dreadfully wrong if any of this should be taken
to imply that I ever found anything in the remotest way
unrespectable about homosexuality; and it is certain that he
or she, in pursuit of natural inclinations, should not be
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pitied for lack of romance in their lives.

I am prepared to believe that the sense of romance in those

of our brothers,and sisters who incline towards love of
their own sex is heightened to a more blazing pitch than in
those who think of themselves as 'normal'. Supporting this
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is my firm conviction that anyone who nurses artistic

pretentions must discard any sort of prejudice which might
limit the broader understanding of human nature. (18)

The discussion of Osborne's plays which follows will deal in

turn with the themes introduced above: the theatrical scene, the

use of the actor and the actor type as a character, and the theme

of homosexuality. Each theme will be assigned to an individual

chapter and at the end of the thesis there is an appendix

listing all of Osborne's plays with details of the first

production (where applicable) and a selection of journalists'

reviews.

19
NOTES : Chapter One

1. The Concise Oxford Dictionary (6th Ed.) Oxford, 1976, p . 219.

2. Interview with Victor Davies, Daily Express, 8 August 1983.

3. John Osborne, A Better Class of Person, Harmondsworth, 1982,

p. 173.

4. Op. Cit. p. 171.

5. Op. Cit. p. 21.

6. Op. Cit. p. 250.

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7. Op. cit.pp. 220/221

8. I saw both o f the productions to which Billington refers

9.
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and I can vouch for this judgement.

Michael Billington, The Modern Actor, London, 1973, p.160.

10. Kenneth Tynan, Tynan on Theatre, London, 1964, p.69.

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11. The T i mes, 27 June 1956.

12. Ian Watson, Conversations with Ayckbourn, London, 1981,

pp. 28/29.
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13. Op. Cit. p. 157.

14. Michael Anderson, Anger and Detachment; A Study of Arden,

Osborne and P i n t e r , London 1976, pp. 22/23.

15. Donald M. Kaplan, ‘^Homosexuality and American Theatre, The

Tulane Drama Revi e w, Vol.9 No 3, 1968, p. 28.

16. Op. Cit. pp. 48/49.

17. William Hall, Raising Cai n e , London, 1981, pp. 48/49.

18. Laurence Olivier, Confessions of an Ac t o r , London, 1982, pp.

64/65.

20
 C H A P T E R TWO

The Theatre

The Entertainer was John Osborne's second play to be

successfully staged by the English Stage Company. The impact of

Look Back in Anger had been so considerable that Laurence Olivier

asked Osborne to write a play for him:

W
I went round to see John Osborne to congratulate him on his
IE
remarkable character performance in Cards of Identity; at
the same time I congratulated him on Look Back and boldly
asked him if he might ever think of writing a play with me
in mind. The humility with which he took this suggestion
EV
surprised me; he kept asking me if I really meant it... In
an amazingly short time, the first act of The Entertainer
arrived; the minute I had read it I phoned George Devine and
said I would accept the part on the first act alone.(1)
PR

The entertainer of the title is Archie Rice, a failing music

hall comedian whose career is crumbling in line with the fabric

of the halls in which he works. In The Entertainer Osborne looks

at this crumbling world with an understanding and an affection

born of years in the theatre and even longer as^a loyal member of

the audience. His early life was punctuated by visits to the

music hall :

We...went to celebrate with tea at the Regent Palace and on

to the first house of a George Black show at the London
Hippodrome, and there again were the ranks of huge chorus
girls swarming into the auditorium to scoop up male members
of the audience and dance with them in the aisles.(2)

In 1956 he wrote o f Max Miller, one of his greatest idols:

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