Colin Welland's "The Hallelujah Handshake" has certain similarities with Dennis Potter's "Angels Are So Few", broadcast a few weeks earlier and also forming part of the BBC's first season of "Play for Today". Both deal with the theme of religion and both feature a mysterious young man who appears in a community and has an unsettling effect upon its members.
In this case the young man calls himself Henry Jones; that is probably not his real name, and in the course of the play he uses two other identities, but for simplicity I will refer to him as Henry throughout. Henry, who is of Welsh origins, joins a Methodist church in South London. He is at first made welcome by the congregation and the minister, Geoffrey, but does not really fit in despite his efforts to do so. He seems too eager to please, and it becomes clear that he is embroidering his past. He claims to be widely travelled, and gives talks about the countries he has supposedly visited, such as Mexico and the Bahamas, but these are cribbed from holiday brochures and only make it all too clear that he has never been anywhere near the places in question. He says that he is a footballer who once had a trial with Cardiff City and a musician who once played with the BBC Welsh Orchestra, but both claims seem highly doubtful. (His current job is as a storekeeper at a local factory).
What causes the most concern is Henry's attitude towards children. He believes himself to have a special rapport with young people and is keen to work with the church's youth group. At times he seems to go over the top, as when he frightens the children by his over-dramatic and disturbing reading of the Ten Commandments, but at others he does seem genuinely popular. He may never have had a trial with Cardiff, but he has an obvious enthusiasm for football, and the boys love playing with and being coached by him. Something about his manner, however, does not seem right to the parents, and this gives rise to suspicions that he may be a paedophile. (The "P-word" itself is never actually used. During the seventies it was only used by paedophiles themselves; everyone else said "child molester"). Eventually, Geoffrey is forced to tell Henry that he can have no further involvement with the youth group. Hurt by what he sees as a rejection, he leaves the church and joins a local Anglo-Catholic congregation, using another pseudonym, and takes up a similar role there.
The play has been described as "a moving study of loneliness". Henry, a childless bachelor who appears to have no immediate family, no close friends and no love interest in his life, is desperate for friendship and companionship, and yet his desperation is part of the problem. I said above that he does not fit in despite his efforts to do so. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he does not fit in because of his efforts to do so; there is such a thing as trying too hard. His anxiety to ingratiate himself with everyone he meets makes some people react against him; others initially welcome him, only to turn against him when they realise he is not everything he seems.
An example of this comes when Henry joins the Anglo-Catholics. Howard, the local parish priest, welcomes Henry enthusiastically, and dismisses as unchristian Geoffrey's attempts to warn him about the young man. When, however, Henry is implicated in a petty theft, Howard drops him like a stone and reports him to the police, even though the theft was not committed for personal gain but to help an old lady for whom Henry felt sorry. When Henry comes before the court, we finally learn something about his past. He has a history of petty crimes of dishonesty, but no convictions for any crimes of violence or sexual indecency. Despite the fears of the Methodist parents, he is not a child molester.
There is a great performance in the central role from Tony Calvin. Henry is someone about whom the audience need to have mixed feelings. We sympathise with him, despite his many failings, yet on the other hand we also need understand why some people doubt him, not because they are irrationally suspicious but because his social awkwardness makes it difficult for them to trust him. Calvin succeeds brilliantly in bringing out both sides of Henry's character- his desperate need for love and his strange "otherness" which means that he cannot inspire it.
My interest in "Play for Today" was sparked when BBC4 screened several plays last year to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the series. I have managed to track down more examples on the net, and watching entries like "Angels Are So Few", "Robin Redbreast" and "The Hallelujah Handshake" (all from 1970) have made me wonder just why we do not prize our heritage of television drama in the same way as we do cinema drama. Feature films of similar quality from the same period, such as "The Railway Children" or "The Go-Between" are today cherished as classics; their television equivalents are all but forgotten, surviving only in the BBC archives and in obscure regions of the internet. Perhaps we need more seasons to celebrate the fifty-first and fifty-second anniversaries. 8/10.
In this case the young man calls himself Henry Jones; that is probably not his real name, and in the course of the play he uses two other identities, but for simplicity I will refer to him as Henry throughout. Henry, who is of Welsh origins, joins a Methodist church in South London. He is at first made welcome by the congregation and the minister, Geoffrey, but does not really fit in despite his efforts to do so. He seems too eager to please, and it becomes clear that he is embroidering his past. He claims to be widely travelled, and gives talks about the countries he has supposedly visited, such as Mexico and the Bahamas, but these are cribbed from holiday brochures and only make it all too clear that he has never been anywhere near the places in question. He says that he is a footballer who once had a trial with Cardiff City and a musician who once played with the BBC Welsh Orchestra, but both claims seem highly doubtful. (His current job is as a storekeeper at a local factory).
What causes the most concern is Henry's attitude towards children. He believes himself to have a special rapport with young people and is keen to work with the church's youth group. At times he seems to go over the top, as when he frightens the children by his over-dramatic and disturbing reading of the Ten Commandments, but at others he does seem genuinely popular. He may never have had a trial with Cardiff, but he has an obvious enthusiasm for football, and the boys love playing with and being coached by him. Something about his manner, however, does not seem right to the parents, and this gives rise to suspicions that he may be a paedophile. (The "P-word" itself is never actually used. During the seventies it was only used by paedophiles themselves; everyone else said "child molester"). Eventually, Geoffrey is forced to tell Henry that he can have no further involvement with the youth group. Hurt by what he sees as a rejection, he leaves the church and joins a local Anglo-Catholic congregation, using another pseudonym, and takes up a similar role there.
The play has been described as "a moving study of loneliness". Henry, a childless bachelor who appears to have no immediate family, no close friends and no love interest in his life, is desperate for friendship and companionship, and yet his desperation is part of the problem. I said above that he does not fit in despite his efforts to do so. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he does not fit in because of his efforts to do so; there is such a thing as trying too hard. His anxiety to ingratiate himself with everyone he meets makes some people react against him; others initially welcome him, only to turn against him when they realise he is not everything he seems.
An example of this comes when Henry joins the Anglo-Catholics. Howard, the local parish priest, welcomes Henry enthusiastically, and dismisses as unchristian Geoffrey's attempts to warn him about the young man. When, however, Henry is implicated in a petty theft, Howard drops him like a stone and reports him to the police, even though the theft was not committed for personal gain but to help an old lady for whom Henry felt sorry. When Henry comes before the court, we finally learn something about his past. He has a history of petty crimes of dishonesty, but no convictions for any crimes of violence or sexual indecency. Despite the fears of the Methodist parents, he is not a child molester.
There is a great performance in the central role from Tony Calvin. Henry is someone about whom the audience need to have mixed feelings. We sympathise with him, despite his many failings, yet on the other hand we also need understand why some people doubt him, not because they are irrationally suspicious but because his social awkwardness makes it difficult for them to trust him. Calvin succeeds brilliantly in bringing out both sides of Henry's character- his desperate need for love and his strange "otherness" which means that he cannot inspire it.
My interest in "Play for Today" was sparked when BBC4 screened several plays last year to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the series. I have managed to track down more examples on the net, and watching entries like "Angels Are So Few", "Robin Redbreast" and "The Hallelujah Handshake" (all from 1970) have made me wonder just why we do not prize our heritage of television drama in the same way as we do cinema drama. Feature films of similar quality from the same period, such as "The Railway Children" or "The Go-Between" are today cherished as classics; their television equivalents are all but forgotten, surviving only in the BBC archives and in obscure regions of the internet. Perhaps we need more seasons to celebrate the fifty-first and fifty-second anniversaries. 8/10.
