A Woman of No Importance

I worked in the same organisation for about twenty five years, and there are so many of Alan Bennett's witty observations that rang true as Patricia Routledge rather expertly sums up the mundanity and habit that consists of so much our daily working lives. We would always rendezvous (admittedly in the bar, not the canteen) around half twelve for a lunch that rarely deviated from yesterday's conversation, tomorrow's plans and maybe a bit of the rubbishing of that person who always turned up and never bought a round! It's that very banality that Routledge captures as not only does she ably describe the routine, but includes the "we did laugh" style stage directions to give us just an extra few seconds to absorb what she'd said. Things take a bit of a turn for "Miss Schofield", though, and we shift scenes to a waiting room and thence to an hospital where surgery is looming and she can't have her much desired cup of tea. It's a "Woman..." but could just as easily be a man, discussing mortality in many of it's benign (and not so) guises and the fact that she is a single person adds a poignant vulnerability that is so often prevalent in the steadfastly stoic amongst us. There are a lot of eye movements and wry smiles here, shrugs and slight gestures - and it holds forty-five minutes remarkably compellingly. Check it out.

Dame Routledge masterfully brings you the last few months of a seemingly ordinary woman, except she doesn't quite believe she's that unremarkable herself.

Deeply moving 45 minute precursor to Bennett's "Talking Heads" monologues, this monologue tells the story of a somewhat fussy, gossipy, but somehow also endearing middle-aged spinster, and her being beset by an illness.

At first the piece feels rather light-weight. But as we watch Patricia Routledge in an amazing performance we are taken deeper and deeper into the darkness by a woman who does everything in her power to refuse to acknowledge it.

Funny, simple, wise and terribly sad, this was also daring for TV in it's making a whole show of a woman talking to the camera.

Between Bennett's wonderful ear for dialogue, and ability to be empathetic without being sappy, Routledge wonderful work and director Giles Foster modulating the short film with a sensitive and delicate hand, they create a piece far more impactful and memorable that most films double or more the running length.