Relief, Not Regret, At Departure Of Scobie

Press, Volume CIX, Issue 32266, 8 April 1970, Page 3

Relief, Not Regret, At Departure Of Scobie

In a great gush of affability, we suggested, some six weeks ago, that although “Seobie in September” had begun in rather a muddle, people in the play were sorting themselves out and that this might not have the great fault of the Derbridge stories of relying almost entirely on red herrings and character parts whose contributions ‘had little to do with the main theme. We could not have been more inaccurate. When “Seobie” ended on Monday night, it was a happy release for everyone.

The purchase erf such programmes as “Seobie in September” is a mistake, and the content of this particular one hinted strongly that it had been bought more on trust than by test. In the last few minutes on Monday night, there were some brief shots of a meeting of the criminal team, agitators bent on creating chaos in

search of power, with a glimpse of a swastika on a wall to put the viewer into the picture. And in a deluge of denouements there was the London detective, Glyn Evans, among the baddies. “Seobie isn’t mad—he just acts as if he is,” said Scobie's wife, and it was a relevant line. We had an urgent wish to help him into the bathroom to clean off the blood and grime he has borne so stoically for six weeks. But his final remark, as he was being carted off to the ambulance, disturbed us. “Bloody September” he muttered. This was just about the only reference to the suggestion, in the early publicity, that September is an unlucky month for the noble Seobie. The fact that Seobie mentioned it brought with it the horrid thought that perhaps he is going to have more unlucky Septembers on our screens. Or perhaps it was in the script for no good reason at all. Like a lot of the other dialogue. “Vendetta,” later- in the evening, was a pleasant contrast Not that it was particularly good—there is little likelihood of acting awards being won by this team—but the characters were very black and very white, it was

! clear enough what or who everyone was trying to do. The “Vendetta” stories are not pretty ones, they do not provide classical cases of detection, and they are often badly acted. But they do not set out to confuse. A mild pat on the back, too, for George Cole, who enjoyed a minor triumph, as the French police chief, in occasionally persuading the viewer to forget his regular appearances in British comedies as an ineffectual blunderer. St * sir

There was some excellent comedy In the Carol Burnett show, notably in what appears to be a regular feature of the programme, the film. Years ago, similar larks helped make “Take It From Here” an extremely popular radio comedy. There must have been much interest among viewers in the story of the Bealey pubs in “The South Tonight.” It was a fascinating potted history. There was commendable variety in “Grandstand” too. No doubt the legions of loyal Canterbury Rugby supporters would.like to see the whole film of this match, if that was possible—or even the edited highlights again—as a reminder of the great occasion.—PANDOßA.