Words by Isabelle Blakeney
It took a long time for writer Alan Bleasdale to be convinced that his hit 1982 TV series Boys from the Blackstuff should be rewritten for the stage. The original series was ground-breaking in its portrayal of contemporary life in Thatcher’s Liverpool, with unemployment rates at an all-time high, increasing reliance on state benefits and ideas of community and identity rapidly changing as de-industrialisation ripped through the country. Taking this source material and transforming it into a retrospective piece of theatre that retains its original poignancy is no mean feat.
It was only when approached by theatre director Kate Wasserberg, and after a meeting with Wasserberg and Olivier award-winning playwright James Graham (Dear England, This House) that Bleasdale felt reassured that a stage production of Boys from the Blackstuff could work.
Its success in Liverpool in 2023, and then London and now a UK tour, prove that the shadows of the 80s still loom over audiences today.
Following a group of Liverpudlian tarmac layers who have lost their jobs and are now trying to find employment while avoiding the ‘dole sniffers’ (members of the Department of Employment who try to catch people taking on cash-in-hand work while continuing to claim unemployment benefits), the play opens in an unemployment office with the men relaying their details in a rhythmic, rehearsed routine. The exhaustion, frustration and desperation is palpable, and the five windows are framed in rusting iron with neon lights illuminating them from above. The set is reminiscent of a prison, which is no coincidence: the stark, stripped back framework echoes how the boys are treated almost as criminals, condemned and blamed for their unemployment, despite constantly begging for work (‘please, I want to work’ is a phrase heard throughout the play).
The first half of the play is a game of cat-and-mouse: the boys find work at an illegal building site, constantly dodging the eyes of Moss (Jamie Peacock), a young DHSS officer set on making a name for himself among the ‘powers that be down south’ as he tries to gather evidence that would permit a raid on the site.
The sense of community here is significant; when Yosser (Jay Johnson) is fired, the other boys try to protect him, and scenes are peppered with shanties, banter, and heartfelt discussions of pride in their skills and city.
Yosser’s legacy as a character is undeniably the most significant – his catchphrases ‘gizza job’ and ‘I could do that’ have found a firm home in the British psyche, and Johnson offers a brilliant performance of his twitchy, unpredictable, violent, yet at points incredibly powerful and harrowing relationship with family, masculinity, and success.
Another standout performance is Mark Womack as the stoic, strong-willed Dixie – his resilience and strength through exhaustion is convincing and heartbreaking, and the inner turmoil of his moral compass is understated yet extremely affecting.
In the second half, after the death of socialist idealist Snowy (Reiss Barber) and the declining health of his father George (Ged Mckenna) who acts as a sort of patriarch to the boys, ideas of loyalty, dignity, community and pride get thrown even further into disarray, with a particularly powerful scene showing Chrissie’s wife Angie (Amber Blease) begging her husband to ‘fight back’ – not just against her, but against the system.
This is Boys from the Blackstuff’s greatest strength: while loyalists to the TV series may feel that its transformation into a play-length period piece loses some of its original depth, its portrayal of community and allegiance, desperation and frustration, pride, dignity, and abandonment by a changing society still ring true today. The retrospect, hopefully, will be a reminder of why the show was so successful at the time, and thus, in the current climate, why theatre’s reflection of the struggles of a contemporary society is as critical as ever.
Boys from the Blackstuff is at Theatre Royal until this Saturday, 1 March.
Image credits: Alastair Muir
