At the age of 68 and with three hits running in London, possibly to be joined by a fourth, Peter Hall is concerned about his place in English theatre. He is out there with the begging-bowl trying to drum up money to back a season at the Old Vic. He has little hope of success.
It is ten years since he left the subsidised theatre which he had dominated for 25 years, first at the RSC and then the National. He left protesting about the low level of subsidy. It is now much worse and he knows he is unlikely to get the ?500,000 a year guarantee against loss he feels he needs before he can accept the Old Vic's invitation to resume his residence there.
At the same time there has been a spectacular fall-out with Bill Kenwright, the West End impresario who produced his original Old Vic season. Accusations and counter-accusations are flying; anyone who tries to report what one is saying faces the possibility of a writ for libel by the other. Here, trying to be fair to both sides, are the bare bones of the quarrel.
Kenwright: "You're going to see Peter? He is losing no opportunity to knock me in print. I don't wish to join in with that except to say that the picture he paints doesn't come near the truth."
Peter Hall: "Bill Kenwright? He is a liar. I must make this absolutely clear. And I have documentary proof, a letter from his lawyer."
It seems that Hall's production of Peter Shaffer's Amadeus, which opened last month at the Old Vic to thunderous approval, was to be jointly produced by Kenwright and PW (the initials of Peter Wilson) Productions. Hall's version is that there were months of negotiations and discussions between Kenwright and Wilson over Amadeus, much of it to do with the terms under which it would go to the US after its Old Vic run.
The negotiations broke down; according to Hall, Kenwright told him to abandon Amadeus. Hall: "I told him I wouldn't do that to Peter Shaffer [the author] or to David Suchet and the other actors. I said I don't behave like that and I am not a pawn in your negotiating game."
Hall then claims that Kenwright threatened to put up the notices on Major Barbara, call off Filumena and cancel Kafka's Dick, all in, or about to join, the Peter Hall Company at the Piccadilly.
"I have a letter from Bill's lawyer," says Hall, "saying that this is what would happen." Kenwright, it is alleged, then cancelled the planned pre-London run of Amadeus at the Windsor Theatre Royal which he owns, and withdrew the Windsor-built set.
"He said he would destroy the production," claims Hall. "I said, 'Fuck you, I'm going ahead.'"
If there was a move to close down the season at the Piccadilly, it seems to have been prevented by contractual obligations.
Kenwright says that he will not discuss details of the rift "at this stage," adding: "He is actually working for me as we talk and earning a fortune. My investment with Peter over the past seven years is well over ?15m. No, there has been no profit. No, I will not talk about how much money has been lost at this stage. This year there has been a big loss at the Piccadilly. Why do I do it? Because I love the man."
The man or his work? "Both. It is difficult to separate them. He reminded me of me in many ways. The first play we did together was supposed to come to the West End after a tour and I remember plucking up my courage to tell Peter that I was not going to bring it in. He said: 'Thank God you have the courage to say so; I couldn't agree more.'"
There were also, Kenwright says, problems initially with the casting of An Ideal Husband, still running in the West End after six years, and in the US and Australia. "I wrote him a strong letter," says Kenwright, "saying I would do the casting. He doesn't like strong letters, but he agreed and we had a hit."
"Lost money?" thunders Hall, "Absolute rubbish! He hasn't lost anything." Unexpectedly, he says: "Bill's not capable of lying. He believes his lies and that's a very dangerous thing. I have a lot to thank him for. Until this he had been very good to me. But I think when you do something wrong you ought to admit it... The whole business is terrible for me. It is a great artistic tragedy. I no longer have a home; I no longer have a backer; I no longer have any possibility of work in that sense. This is not something I have done lightly; it is not a luvvies' spat.
"I would like to do more work with my old companies, the RSC and the National, but there are other people who need a turn and I can't pay my alimony [he is on his fourth marriage] or school fees [two children still being educated privately] on the money you get in the subsidised theatre. I had 25 years of it."
He finishes work on 19th November after bringing Alan Bennett's Kafka's Dick with Julia McKenzie and Eric Sykes to join Filumena with Judi Dench and Michael Pennington at the Piccadilly. The only engagement he has for next year is a production of Measure for Measure in Los Angeles in May. Otherwise, his diary is empty.
Hall's career has not been without professional strife. There was a rift with Harold Pinter, with whom he has since made up; at the National there were disagreements with directors Michael Blakemore and Jonathan Miller. I have a 1983 letter from John Osborne in which he refers to Hall as "a slimy used carpet salesman." That followed a decision by Hall as director of the National to close Osborne's play, Watch It Come Down, after only 35 performances. Osborne, says Hall, "went ballistic and said it was the right of subsidised theatre to play to empty seats. I didn't agree."
"Osborne was quite a friend at one time," Hall now says, "but a very nasty man when he had a pen or typewriter at his fingers. A very unpleasant man indeed, though to meet him socially he was absolute charm itself; a sweetheart."
He may have had rows with writers, directors and producers, but he has won the devotion of actors. And for many of us, if Hall's problems are not solved, it will be a lasting loss to the English theatre. Since he found and directed Waiting for Godot more than 40 years ago he has been a powerful and beneficial influence on the stage. His RSC productions in the 1960s were landmarks of vigour, verse-speaking, textual illumination and superb performance. He steered the National through a period of great strain. He trained a generation of directors and he profoundly believes in the value of company work and the repertory system. Stephen Daldry, a member of the new Old Vic Trust who saved it from a fate worse than lap-dancing, says: "That's how the best work is done, but it is a very expensive business."
Britain has never subsidised individuals of talent; only buildings and institutions. Neither Joan Littlewood nor Peter Brook were able to build up the permanent companies that would have enabled them to give expression to their ideas of vital, living theatre. Peter Hall is another national treasure in search of backing from public or private funds. It would be a tragedy without catharsis if he fails.
