Some Distant Shadow was the first piece John Hopkins wrote for his wife,
actress Shirley Knight Hopkins, as a birthday present for her. An unconventional
gift, perhaps, but Mrs Hopkins was reported to have been pleased with it.
However, one does wonder what the contemporary late-night viewers of this rather
lengthy Sunday Night Theatre presentation may have made of it.
Like the later 'That Quiet Earth' (Thirty Minute Theatre, BBC, tx.
28/2/1972), Some Distant Shadow's concern is alienation. Shirley Knight Hopkins
plays the neurotic Barbara, a dejected woman who we see sitting in studio shadow
looking back over her sexually active but emotionally unsatisfying life. The
scenes are re-enacted in a series of flashbacks from different periods of this
bitter existence; from a schoolgirl's sexual awakening to the final affair with
her husband's friend, Barbara re-lives her past at the hands of selfish lovers
and with the resigned acceptance of an imperfect marriage to an insensitive
husband.
While it is impossible not to admire the high degree of professional skill
that Hopkins applies to the work, its complex construction - taking liberties
with time - may well have baffled some of its audience. Joining all these
seemingly loose pockets of time is the often unclear narrative thread concerning
Barbara's dogged search for a long-dead former lover; the elusive substitute for
a loveless life.
Unlike 'Talking to a Stranger' (Theatre 625, BBC, 1966), in which the
interaction of the four characters and the stresses and tensions between them
gradually reveal their inability to respond to each other's needs, here the
characters seem to wallow in their despair. The play's time-transition structure
allows for only the most fleeting interaction.
After the writing, performances make up a TV play, and there are some
splendid moments from Anthony Bate's hot-blooded former lover, oozing seductive
smarm, and Peter Vaughan, the apparently oblivious husband given to moments of
sinister cheer and lizard-eyed looks. Shirley Knight Hopkins successfully rings
the changes from youthful candour to bored bitchiness and finally more mature
understanding.
Tise Vahimagi
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