After Marwood

My first introduction to the classic British film Withnail & I came via Ride’s 1992 album Going Blank Again. The track Cool Your Boots opens with the quote “Even a stopped clock gives the right time twice a day”.

It was the summer after I’d finished my A levels and I would soon be leaving home for good. I wasn’t big on listening to advice and thought I knew everything, so I’m not sure why that particular quote resonated. Maybe it was the idea that something can be broken and still appear to be right, a heads up that the adult world wasn’t necessarily all it appeared to be. I played that album on repeat and when by chance I noticed that there was a screening of Withnail & I at the old cinema in Tamworth, I was intrigued to see what had caught the imagination of one of my favourite bands. I went to the cinema by myself, as I often did, and immediately fell in love with the film. I loved the soundtrack, I loved the atmosphere, I loved the two feckless and flawed heroes, I loved the romance of their squalid London lives. By the end of their adventures up north, I was hooked. (Maybe the film is responsible for my love of northern England too…)

I don’t know how many times I’ve watched it since then. If streaming had been a thing when I was a teenager I’m sure it would’ve been hundreds but technology being what it was, I had to make do with a VHS recording off the telly (which, in an attempt to remove the Channel 4 ads, cut out a gunshot from a key scene in Monty’s holiday cottage). I watched it often enough as I moved from childhood into adulthood to learn the dialogue by heart. Three decades later, quoting from the film isn’t quite a form of time travel but it does connect me with that 18-year-old. With all the optimism, uncertainty and fear held within that adolescent body.

Why am I telling you this? This week they announced that my favourite film is being adapted into a stage play at Birmingham Rep. At the minute I’m torn, do I go and see it? Will it be as achingly funny as the film? Will the characters be inhabited so perfectly? Who can possibly step into the shoes of Richard E Grant, Paul McGann, Richard Griffiths, Ralph Brown and Michael Elphick?

I’ll leave you with this ekphrastic poem (fanpo?) I wrote a little over a decade ago. Although Withnail & I is a brilliantly honed comedy this poem taps into the deep melancholy that runs through the film. It’s about endings and loss, about friendship and failure… not at all funny really but there are a few easter eggs for fans of the film. Kudos to anyone who can find them all. Anyway, hope you like it. And let me know if you’re a fan of the film too.