The
Telegraph - 10th August 2007
Edinburgh Festival:
Johnson and 'Bozza' in the land of deep-fried pizza
| Samuel
Johnson didn't mince his words when identifying deficiencies in
the Scotland he travelled through with his friend and biographer
James Boswell in the autumn of 1773. In his Journey to the Western
Islands he variously identified a "sullen scrupulousness
and warlike ferocity", bemoaned the lack of trees ("a
tree might be a show in Scotland as a horse in Venice") and
proudly affirmed that Cromwell civilised the Scots "by conquest
and introduced by useful violence the arts of peace". Stewart Lee, who devised Johnson and Boswell: Late but Live being performed at the Edinburgh Festival Stewart Lee devised the 'snortingly funny' Johnson and Boswell: Late but Live What he didn't do, though, was deliver an uninterrupted stream of insults calculated to make the blood of even the feeblest Scottish patriot boil. For a full 10 minutes after his arrival on stage in this hilarious fictional reunion, devised by Stewart Lee, Simon Munnery - a very pale, skinny incarnation of the great man - does his best to bait the locals. "To say that a Scot speaks English is to say that a dog eats a bone - whereas it mauls it," he suggests, with impassive hauteur. "Athenians of the North, where are your abacuses?" he demands. "Did you eat the beads or did you exchange them for heroin?" "As a dog returns to its vomit, so have I returned to the land of the deep-fried pizza," he drawls, a provocation that Miles Jupp's adoring-yet-squirming Boswell - like Munnery, attired in unfetching period dress and wig - dutifully scratches into his notebook with his feather quill. |
 Stewart Lee devised the 'snortingly funny' Johnson and Boswell: Late but Live |
War would probably break out on the spot were it not for the fact that everyone's too busy laughing. It's an inspired idea to imagine what would happen if the pair tripped into the Traverse today with books to plug. What makes the show so impressive is that the wit flows freely for a whole hour, even though, as they confess, there's nothing much to be said.
"Bozza" keeps trying to get a bemused Johnson to repeat his famous "a man who is tired of London" aphorism. A sullen, warlike drummer and bagpipe player, both kilted, lend desultory, ear-paining accompaniment. There are some tetchy readings, an inept recreation of a storm at sea and the evening concludes with Boswell being forced to eat a haggis while the audience all sing The Skye Boat Song at him. "Snortingly funny" - it's not a phrase to be found in Johnson's Dictionary, but it's the only way to describe it.
