Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas. Dir. Michael Sheen. Perf. Sheen, Kate Burton, Mark Lewis
Jones. BBC Wales, 26 October 2014. Available
online till 24 January 2015 at http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b04mlkqp
Performed
on the very stage in New York where Thomas’s legendary voice drama received its
premiere in 1952, Michael Sheen’s full-length version was rapturously received
by a live audience.
For
this listener, this production proved revelatory in several ways. Until now
I had never realized how Under Milk Wood explores people’s inner
lives, and how they differ quite radically from their public personae. Mr. Pugh
has great fun thinking up new ways
of poisoning his wife, but responds meekly to most of her questions, even when
she catches him reading a book suspiciously wrapped in brown paper. Mae Rose
Cottage spends much of her time wishing
for love, of the kind customarily found in Harlequin romances, while Captain
Cat recalls life with his deceased shipmates.
Part-nostalgic, part-fantastic, such dreams remind us of the fine line
separating the imaginative from the actual life; the one informs the
other. Under Milk Wood is a drama
that celebrates the power of the moment,
when spontaneous thought overwhelms so-called “rational” feelings. Thomas’s
language – sensuous, powerful,
assonant – reinforces this belief.
On
the other hand Under Milk Wood is a
passionate piece that celebrates sexual desire; not only the overt desires of
Mae Rose, but the love expressed in the letter from Mog Edwards to Myfanwy
Price, or the drunken antics of Cherry Owen as he returns home. Life might appear
respectable on the surface
in the small town of Llareggyb, but the citizens’ true feelings are far less
polite. The six members of Sheen’s cast,
including Francine Morgan, Mark Lewis Jones, Matthew Aubrey and Kate Burton
(daughter of Richard Burton) had a rare old time bringing out the innuendoes in
Thomas’s text, much to the audience’s amusement.
Llareggyb
might be an imaginary place, but its social and gender divisions are redolent
of a bygone era, when men and women were supposed to know their respective
places. The women stayed at home to look
after the house, while the men went out to work, came home to eat, and went out
to the pub to get drunk. Thomas sets up
that social structure, but throughout the play he is prone to make fun of it:
Lord Cut-Glass – apparently at the head of the social pyramid – turns out to be
insane in his “kitchen full of time”; while Nogood Boyo fishes in the bay,
while dreaming of Mrs. Dai Bread Two and geishas. Like many characters in the
piece, he dreams
of a very different world to that of Llareggyb, one that he has probably never
visited, but nonetheless free of the social constraints that limit his
behavioral possibilities. Maybe things
might change in the future, but in Nogood’s mind at least, that prospect
remains a remote one.
As
the First Voice, Sheen conjured up a world that was at once recognizable yet
remote; one that appealed to the imagination in its haunting description of a
dream-like landscape in which anything might happen. The structure of Under Milk Wood is familiar enough, as it is centered on a single
day in the life of the village. There
are familiar rituals, such as going to work, doing the shopping, eating meals
and going to bed; but the citizens can also conjure up very different worlds,
even while observing such rituals. This
capacity reminds us of Thomas’s unique gifts as a writer – someone who lived
for the moment and used it to try to “listen” to people. He didn’t
just listen to what they said; he
was also concerned with what they thought as well. Under
Milk Wood explores the distinction between the two modes of expression, and
by doing so celebrates the power of thought.
Thomas might have been only thirty-nine when he died, but he had more “real”
experiences – understood in this case as exercising the power of the
imagination – than most of us experience in far lengthier lifetimes.
This Under Milk Wood was a truly magnificent
production, with the six-strong cast taking on a variety of roles, accompanied
by telling sound-effects – the toll of the bell, the rustle of the waves, the
sound of children in the school playground – that conjured up a world which was
at once vanished yet imaginatively highly accessible.