Since it found its feet with its second season in 1965, The Wednesday Play
(BBC, 1964-1970) was unashamedly contemporary in both its attitude and in the
settings it employed. This makes 'Mad Jack', with its First World War subject,
something of an oddity.
Perhaps recognising this, Tom Clarke, the play's writer, was quoted in The
Radio Times attempting to link Sassoon's anti-war protest and the then-current
spirit of protest, as manifested in popular demonstrations. This tenuous
coupling of the play with a contemporary mood is wholly unnecessary, despite The
Wednesday Play's stated remit for contemporaneity. Sassoon was not a pacifist,
and the play is less about his protest against the Great War than it is about
his difficulty in maintaining his principled position against almost complete
opposition. The story is essentially one of a man struggling with his
conscience, and is therefore timeless.
It is possible to read contemporary relevance into such a story at any time.
Modern viewers will note that Sassoon's protest is against the politically
obscured reasons for the war and that one of his comrades insists that, despite
what their leaders may tell them, they are not fighting for freedom but for
"Mesopotamian oil wells".
As was becoming increasingly common on The Wednesday Play by 1970, the drama
was captured entirely on film outside of the more traditional electronic studio.
This would normally enable the director not only to utilise a variety of
locations but also to include action sequences and impressive visuals. However,
director Jack Gold spurns these opportunities for a very gentle, sedentary
production that concentrates on closely studied performance and dialogue.
Although there are numerous flashbacks, we see little of the actual war. Its
nightmarish world, however, is well evoked by the scene in which Sassoon
ventures out into No Man's Land to retrieve greatcoats from the dead. Under
Gold's direction, the stars of the production are Sassoon's own poetry, often
heard in voiceover, and Michael Jayston's performance as Sassoon.
Jayston's Sassoon has a quiet dignity and grim determination, just
occasionally enlivened by brief but gleeful activity. Henry Raynor, The Times's
television critic, found it "a performance attractive for gentleness and
self-mockery". It was undoubtedly Jayston's performance - also giving the
measured readings of Sassoon's often haunting poetry - in conjunction with
Clarke's sensitive script, that so impressed the judges of 1971's International
Television Festival in Monte Carlo, who awarded the play their major
prize.
Oliver Wake
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