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The Bootleg Files: No Man’s Land

BOOTLEG FILES 877: “No Man’s Land” (1978 production of the Harold Pinter play starring John Gielgud and Ralph Richardson).

LAST SEEN: On YouTube.

AMERICAN HOME VIDEO: None.

REASON FOR BOOTLEG STATUS: There might be a right issue that is unresolved.

CHANCES OF SEEING A COMMERCIAL DVD RELEASE: A re-release on DVD and Blu-ray is not likely at this time.

The greatest actors are those who do double-duty as alchemists – they have the unique gift of turning leaden works into marvels of shining gold. John Gielgud and Ralph Richardson are widely considered to be among the finest British actors of the 20th century, and together they elevated Harold Pinter’s less-than-remarkable drama “No Man’s Land” into an invigorating experience.

Yes, I realize that my opinion of Pinter’s play is a minority view, but the problem I have with the work is that it offers a surplus of Pinter’s vices and deficit of his virtues. The second act is especially wobbly with its bizarre efforts to tie up loose story threads and a subtle-as-a-sledgehammer reinforcement of the title’s meaning. But for its initial production – which was staged in London by the National Theatre in 1975 and later recorded for a BBC television broadcast in 1978 – “No Man’s Land” succeeds through the sheer force of dramatic energy of Gielgud and Richardson, who use their voices and body language in a manner the camouflages the weakness in Pinter’s text.

“No Man’s Land” takes place in the drawing room of Hirst (Richardson), a prominent litterateur who has returned from an evening at the pub with Spooner (Gielgud), a shabbily dressed man he met while drinking. Hirst conducts himself in an aristocratic and confident manner, and initially he is mostly a quiet audience to Spooner’s rambling talk about himself and literary matters. The men continue their drinking and Spooner slowly identifies himself as a poet – but not as financially and professionally successful in his literary endeavors as Hirst.

Spooner’s talk strangely shifts to a somewhat unctuous yet insulting level, calling into question Hirst’s masculinity and relation with his wife (who is mentioned but never seen). Hirst’s confidence morphs into a confused state, either one of drunkenness or cognitive decline. Hirst abruptly declares, “No man’s land…does not move…or change…or grow old…remains…forever…icy…silent” – and then collapses on the floor. Spooner makes no effort to help him up, forcing Hirst to crawl to the door and exit to a staircase that he ascends on hands and knees. Spooner watches Hirst and says, “I’ve known this before – exit through the door, by way of belly and floor.”

Spooner is then joined by Hirst’s employees, his secretary Foster (Michael Kitchen) and his valet/butler Briggs (Terence Rigby). Both men have a working class, rough trade demeanor that seems at odds with someone of Hirst’s social level, and the pair are immediately suspicious of Spooner’s presence and motives. Hirst returns wearing a silk bathrobe and proceeds to drink more while wondering who Spooner is and why he is present. When Foster says that Spooner claimed to be a friend of his, Hirst replies, “My true friends of mine look out to me from an album.” Hirst talks of a dream where he saw someone drowning and Spooner insists that he was the drowning figure in that dream. Briggs is forced to lift Hirst and walk him out of the room while Spooner shuts off the lights to leave Spooner in the dark.

As for the second act – well, for those who never saw “No Man’s Land” and may want to give it a go, I won’t discuss it because that raises too many spoilers, along with some inconsistencies from the characters’ first act interactions. I can say that Spooner gets to repeat the gloomy remark about no man’s land, reminding everyone of the state of emotional limbo where the characters dwell.

If you’re a fan of Pinter, there’s plenty of pauses, enigmatic dialogue, emotional angst and all of his gloomy trademarks. For the rest of us, the production is a treasure thanks to its two iconic stars. Gielgud’s Spooner is both venomous and pathetic, a self-important figure who tries to maintain shreds of dignity as his pretentions are stripped away and his inadequacies are exposed. Richardson’s Hirst is a man adrift from the world and supported only by conniving employees who clearly don’t have the old man’s best interests in mind. Both actors give their characters a depth and scope that rises above Pinter’s uninspired plotting and often creaky dialogue – Gielgud is a riot of fawning and sneering while Richardson’s turns between flashes lucidity and stretches of painful incoherence is jolting. How they make their unlikable characters so invigorating is a master class in acting.

From what I can determine, “No Man’s Land” was never broadcast on U.S. television and is still absent from American home entertainment channels. An unauthorized upload of the production can be found (and, perhaps, enjoyed) on YouTube.

IMPORTANT NOTICE: While this weekly column acknowledges the presence of rare film and television productions through the so-called collector-to-collector market, this should not be seen as encouraging or condoning the unauthorized duplication and distribution of copyright-protected material, either through DVDs or Blu-ray discs or through postings on Internet video sites.

Listen to Phil Hall’s award-winning podcast “The Online Movie Show with Phil Hall” on SoundCloud and his radio show “Nutmeg Chatter” on WAPJ-FM in Torrington, Connecticut, with a new episode every Sunday. His new book “100 Years of Wall Street Crooks” is now in release through Bicep Books.