An Irish Family Living in Birmingham.

Marlon Brando as Napoleon.

It was strange, as a child, to be living in an Irish community in Birmingham; all our parents' friends were Irish and apart from our little nuclear family (a phrase not invented then) we had no relations; they were in Ireland.

We knew people with strange accents but they were the next door neighbours.

Our Irish community was in Balsall Heath, a kind of inner city neighbourhood, and even though there were a lot of Irish there, I saw post cards in shop windows offering digs, rooms to let and flats with the addendum 'no Irish' – but that was when I could read.

And I learned to read at Clifton Road Primary & Junior School and Dennis Road Secondary Modern Boys School.

We lived in a little cottage in a place called South View Terrace; it probably had a lovely 'south view' of Moseley Road, at one time, but looking south out of the front door we had a view of a factory/offices called Locomotors or Locomotives – they owned the property and it was to them we paid the rent. 8/11 per week which is about 45 pence.

When I started school I found that the other kids spoke differently from me – they spoke with English accents; so I kind of copied the way they spoke. I was quite good at it but a few words remained such as walk which I would pronounce as wark and work which I would say as wurk. And all the equally rhyming words – or wurds!!!

So it was strange – we would go to Dublin three times a year with our English accents and by the time we came back to England we were Irish again.

I would play football in Ireland and they would shout 'pass the ball here, English!' and I would say 'I'm not English, I'm Irish!'

Then when we returned to England I would play football there and they would shout 'pass the ball here, Irish!' and I would say 'I'm not Irish I'm English!'

The school I went to was a Church of England School (Protestant) so I didn't let anybody know that we were Catholics. My mother was always telling me that I shouldn't be ashamed of being a Catholic and even made me take a Saint Christopher Medal which I would hide in my pocket; this was all at the first school, Clifton Road, by the time I got to Dennis Road we didn't care.

In those days there was an examination working class and middle class children took at the age of 10 called the eleven plus; this was for entry into grammar school. At grammar school kids were expected to stay on at school till they were 16; at my school we would leave at the age of 15; factory fodder.

Grammar school kids would take 'O' level GCE, General Certificate of Education, exams and if they stayed on they'd take 'A' levels and 3 of those would probably get them in to University.

At our school we didn't have to take any exams at all which was fine by me as I didn't like school or exams.

When I took the eleven plus I didn't put anything on the exam papers at all; my mother's friend, Mrs Williams, was the supervising teacher and attested to this and my mother was disgusted.

Apparently I just looked through the window.

Now if there was one thing I remember about Clifton Road School it was that the windows were high and you could only see the sky; so maybe I was looking towards the stars even then.

What I discovered was that if I looked out of the window, during regular lessons, I would get a clip around the ear and told to get on with it, but in exams the teachers walked around and supervised.

So when I went Dennis Road School I entered all the external exams for other schools: grammar schools, art schools, technical schools, commercial schools – you name it. The art schools I liked best because I had to paint all day and I loved painting even though I was no good.

I didn't pass any of those exams, of course, and when I left Dennis Road I didn't have any GCEs whatsoever; but I took them much later when they were easier for me. Just the ones I fancied: English Literature, Sociology and an A/O level in film studies which was the hardest.

One day at school I was picked for the Road Safety Knowledge Team; we were put on the stage and pitted against another team and asked questions about the Highway Code; which is a road safety booklet with all the rules about road safety, which drivers in the UK still have to answer questions from to pass their driving test.

The school hall was full – maybe about 500 kids and teachers – and when they asked me a question I got it right but the question master couldn't quite get the meaning of what I was saying so I explained it in a conversational tone, something like 'you know when you cross the street . . . . .?' and as soon as I said this, the whole school erupted in peels of laughter; I saw our teacher, Mr Jones, with his head in his hands laughing.

What I said wasn't particularly funny but something struck a chord with the audience which made them laugh; it was a wonderful feeling to get such a big laugh and it really is the greatest sensation when working in comedy. I was always getting laughs in the classroom so maybe that had something to do with the big laugh I got on that day and maybe it had something to do with me taking up acting; I don't know.

One of the teachers was called Mr Forster and he was the PE teacher and dressed very fashionably; he wore drain pipe trousers, suede shoes and had a very fashionable hair cut – a bit like Marlon Brando when he played Napoleon, and the mothers would wait outside the school, just to get a glimpse of him, as he walked his class across the street for the morning assembly.

'Isn't he lovely?' they would say and he would ignore them. He had a friend in Dennis Road Junior School and I think they were both, really, actors. I have heard his name about the profession and often wondered if he was the same person. The one thing he never did, though, was to cast me in any of the school plays.

In one play I remember one of the boys played two roles and all I did was watch; I knew all the lines of all the characters but was never asked. The boy who played the 2 roles was called Robert Mapp and at one point he was supposed to go off, get changed, then come back on as his other character.

On the night the play went out in front of the audience, he came back wearing the same costume; he said later he hadn't had time to change; and there I was sitting there!!!

That was in the junior school and Forster did a cowboy play, one time, at Dennis Road that I dearly wanted to be in but I'd been chosen to sing at the Town Hall in the choir!!

Mark Rylance in Jerusalem.

For those who don't know or didn't read my post lately The Greatest Actor In the World I discussed who was the best actor in the world, if there ever could be such a person, as it was suggested by some pundits that the best actor in the world was one Mark Rylance who was, and is, starring in the west end in the play Jerusalem by Jez Butterworth.

Well I went to see for myself on Friday evening. The play is sold out till the end of its run in January and the only way to get a really terrible ticket is to turn up at six-o-clock each morning at the theatre and queue till ten-o-clock when the box office opens.

These are the worst seats – I believe the front row, because you can't see further back on the stage than a few feet - some seats where you cannot see all of the stage and my seat; on the upper circle above the action where you have to creak your neck.

If I sat back in my seat all I would see was the ceiling so I had to lean forward and look down. This meant I couldn't sit on my seat without tipping it up and sitting on the edge, or kneeling on the floor and then when I looked down my view was blocked by some lamps that were lighting the stage – but I saw it and enjoyed it and it will be one of those shows and performances that I won't forget; even if only for the stiff neck I have today.

But did I get up at six-o-clock to get to the theatre to queue? Not on your life.

I knew about the queuing and had mulled it over in my mind a few times and I planned to pay good money and book a seat sometime – but I never did.

It so happened I had an appointment in the west end at ten-o-clock and I passed the theatre and saw a small queue. At that moment, a few minutes to ten, the box office wasn't open so I carried on to my appointment. I had to pass the theatre again at ten forty five and thought I might go in to box office, which I did, to ask if there were any of the £10 tickets left and I was told yes – one.

When I saw where it was, I declined and said I'll take my chances for another day and that's when the box office clerk told me that the rest of the run was sold out.

I went out walked about ten yards down the street, turned around, and went back and bought the ticket.

So what was like what was it about and is he the greatest actor in the world?

First of all the title Jerusalem; it is based on the poem by William Blake which was eventually made in to a song or even a hymn. The poem is set out below and most people in England know it as as a song as it's about England – old England and . .. well judge for yourself.

England is surrounded by three Celtic countries and one of its counties, Cornwall, is populated with Celts. Who are Celts? Well we (yes we - I am one and so is my brother and my kiddlewinkles no matter where they were born) are wild, colourful people who believe and like myths and legends. We believe in fairies, giants, Leprechauns, folk lore and love to tell and listen to stories.

The English don't believe in any of this rubbish – but they did at one time. There are just as many myths and legends from England but nobody talks about them any more; the only thing that has survived is Morris Dancing; and there is a Morris Dancer in the play.

The play, Jerusalem, is about a Gypsy who lives in a caravan, which looks a bit like a railway carriage, near a new estate in Wiltshire. The cast have Wiltshire accents and apart from Mark Rylance and possible three others, are teenagers.

The teenagers gather at his caravan where they can score with drugs, booze and party all night.

The local council have been serving him, Billy 'Rooster' Byron, for many years, notices to quit; but he ignores them. He is the kind of man that would pull a steam roller with his teeth or bend an iron bar in his mouth; the kind of thing that was always on TV in Britain at one time.

The play opens with two police constables serving a final notice on him and throughout the action, both comic and serious, there us a growing threat and a feeling of impending doom.

The kids come to him also to listen to his stories as he is the old style Englander with many a tale to tell. One of the tales he tells it that he has very rare Romany blood which he sells to the local hospital for £800 every so many months.

In his youth he was a kind of Evel Knievel jumping buses on his motor bike and one day hit one of the buses which gave him a terrible limp. This is played with such authenticity that I thought it was a real injury.

Also a young girl, aged fifteen, is missing and her father comes to the caravan looking for her.

The set is incredible – there appears to be grass growing, there's dirt where he can bury an ax and behind the caravan is a forest; which looks real.

So is he the best actor in the world? Hard to say but I don't know any better. As I mentioned before it depends on taste, suitability to the role you are playing and lots of other things.

The play lasts three hours and ten minutes which includes two intervals amounting to twenty minutes. There may be ten minutes throughout the whole evening where Mark Rylance is off the stage.

It is a terrific heroic performance and he deserves the plaudits he has received – a Tony on Broadway and the Laurence Olivier Award in London.

I saw him a few years ago in Los Angeles in the Globe Theatre's all male production of William Shakespeare's Measure for Measure where he played the Duke. I think that was one of the best Shakespearean performances I have ever seen but he used some of the tricks he used in that in his performance in Jerusalem – a kind of pause at the end of a line and then dropping a whole sentence – which might become or is already his shtick. It will be interesting to see what he does with Richard III which he is due to do next at Shakespeare's Globe in London.

It will be a new production of Shakespeare's Richard III and he will recreate one of his more startling performances as Olivia in an all-male Twelfth Night. The production had sumptuous period costumes by Jenny Tiramani, handstitched down to the last corset stiffener, which took him half an hour to struggle into every night.

After the performance in Los Angeles, I couldn't find my car in the UCLA car park and wandered around for about fifteen minutes and who should I meet getting into their SUV but Mark Rylance and some of his cast. He had a very gentle hand shake and seemed a very nice fella.

Here is Jerusalem by William Blake:

JERUSALEM (from 'Milton')

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic Mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.

Dave (the rave) Cameron and the Common Market!

Dave (the rave) Cameron.

Now I have very little time for David Cameron; I think I've intimated this in previous posts. In fact I am way to the left of the Conservative Party and have always believed in the Labour movement and unions and all that – so that about sums me up.

However, I am not sure you can call people like Tony Blair, Gordon Brown or the new Labour Party leader, Ed Miliband, part of the Labour Movement – or The Ed Miller Band as I have started to call him.

The Labour Party is the party of Kier Hardy, Harold Wilson, Aneurin Bevan and the like not a bunch of middle class middle of the road men in suits. But let's face it they wouldn't have been elected if they hadn't have drifted towards the middle to New Labour!

Can you see any difference between Cameron, Blair, Clegg or Miliband (either of them)?

Well it appears there is a slight difference.

In the 1970s Great Britain joined the Common Market which was forced through parliament by the Conservatives led by Thatcher's predecessor, Edward Heath. If I recall correctly the Labour Party were against it but don't bet on it as I may be wrong.

There was a referendum and the UK voted to stay in the Common Market – they have referendums on everything in America, as propositions, so this might sound strange to them and, by the way, it is referendums and not referenda!!

It was the Common Market the people voted for and not the United States of Europe.

Since then little things have crept in; Britain were obliged to convert to a metric system. They had already converted the currency to decimalization in 1971 which was understandable; the old system had 4 farthings to a penny, 12 pennies to a shilling and 20 shillings to the pound. Now we have 100 pennies to the pound as opposed to 240 which is what it used to be. They had ten shilling notes, sixpences, half pennies (pronounced hay'pennies) and half a crowns; that was two shillings and sixpence (2/6d) which is worth 12 and a half pee (pence) these days.

The metric system is something different; miles were supposed to have been converted to kilometres, feet and yards to metres, pounds to kilos and so on. But ask anybody how far they are driving and they will tell you in miles! Ask them how far away their car is parked and they will tell you metres!

On the M25 they tell you the length of the tunnels in yards and give distances in miles. In supermarkets goods are priced in kilos. The temperature is given in Celsius! If it reaches 100 degrees Fahrenheit they use Fahrenheit; go figure!.

Confused?? Of course you must be – this is all to appease The European Community – or The Common Market as the majority of people here call it.

MEPs were elected – Members of European Parliament – Butter Mountains appeared, Sugar Mountains and the rest of it. British Beef was encouraged and the best beef in the world discouraged. People here can only dream of Argentinian beef let alone American.

With the MEPs, Britain now has a mini government in parish councils, borough council or local councils, members of parliament and the aforementioned MEPs – all representing the same neighbourhood.

A few years ago they introduced the Euro to replace all the currencies of Common Market member countries and the Chancellor of the Exchequer at the time, Gordon Brown, decided that Britain didn't need to change its currency and that kind of saved Britain; Tony Blair wanted it to change but he bowed to Brown.

I thought it was a good idea at the time but I was wrong.

If Greece, Ireland or Italy still had their own currencies they could have devalued when things got tough recently which would have made their exports more attractive and boosted their economies.

But they can't do that, can they, because they all have the same currency. They can't devalue the Euro can they – can they????

The countries that use the Euro are called – the Euro-zone or even the Eurozone; a new word!!!!

On the news these days in Britain in every bulletin, which on some stations is every half hour, is the fact that David Cameron vetoed a . . .. what did he veto? Not many people know. They know he vetoed something but I have asked one or two intellectual members of the vagrant train and they don't seem to know. The fact is he vetoed nothing. A veto is when your vote stops the thing going through and as far as I know Dave's vote (they call him Dave here and they also have a TV network called Dave which is rather like the TV Network Spike in America) didn't stop anything. The new treaty in the common market that he thought he was stopping is still going through – as far as I know.

He 'vetoed' because he wanted to protect the interests of Britain; the interests of London more like as it is the financial centre and Germany wants Berlin to have a share, France want Paris.

He also did it to appease the 'back benchers' and Euro-skeptics in his party but if what he did changes things for Britain’s membership maybe he did something right for the wrong reasons.

The populations of the countries in the Common Market have different traditions, different personalities and to have them all living in a uniform way would be wrong to me; and what do I know? Nothing!!

It seems strange that Britain fought a war against Germany – for a few years by themselves – and at one time the Greeks suffered under the Italians and the Germans – even the Bulgarians too, I think. They went through a civil war and junta and now they are under the thumb again. They are broke and in need of help and they are now going begging, cap in hand, to the Common Market dominated by the Germans. It must really stick in their craw.

Greece, a country which had to fight the Germans with their resistance, gave many thousands of words to the English language as opposed to Germany who contributed very few one being schadenfreude!

The Greatest Actor in the World!

Mark Rylance.

Who is the greatest actor in the world? Is that him above?

What would qualify anybody to be the greatest actor in the world? Nothing!

A lot of it would be a matter of taste; there are some actors that other actors think are fooling the public – they can cry on demand, they shout or laugh; they put on funny voices can do accents.

These are extremes of acting - anger and happiness; it's the bits in between that are hard.

What about those actors who are good at accents? That's not good acting. I heard someone say in Los Angeles 'put 2 British actors together and within minutes they are talking about accents.'

It's a misconception but I know what they mean.

To my mind there are 2 kinds of acting – the American way and the British way; when an American actor hears the word 'action' he will speak in the same voice and naturalism that he/she speaks in when off stage/screen.

In Britain the actor seems to choose an accent and do a 'voice.' We've been to drama school where we learn speech, diction, clarity and all the rest of it; and you can see it a mile off; I have been appalled by some of the acting I have seen on television since I've been back.

In Los Angeles, when I watched British Television, I watched the best: Foil's War, Spooks (MI5 in the USA), Downton Abbey and the rest of it then when I got back here I saw the rest!!!

Now who am I to be pontificating about such a thing? I am nobody but I have opinions.

On television in the USA the actor Ed Harris was being interviewed by, I think, Bill Maher and Bill Maher said he, Ed Harris, was the 'best actor on the planet!'

That's okay in itself, but Ed Harris didn't argue with him giving the impression that he believed it.

When that man above, Mark Rylance, was on television here he was asked what he thought about being called the best actor in the world. He said he didn't believe it. Maybe he does and maybe he doesn't.

There are two actors who, over the past 50 or 60 years, have been considered the best: Marlon Brando and Laurence Olivier.

Now there are a lot of people who never liked either of them. The British said they couldn't understand Brando and that he mumbled. Others said that Olivier was all technique but at least you could understand everything he said.

The problem with the pair of them is that they influenced a lot of their countrymen.

I saw lots of plays in Los Angeles and sometimes there were evenings of one act plays; these were obviously showcases where the performers tried to get influential directors and castings directors in to see their work. A lot of the men, you could tell, had been to the gym and wore tee shirts to show their muscles just like Brando in Streetcar.

From about the late forties up to fairly recently English actors couldn't do Richard III without thinking of Laurence Olivier – it's interesting that Mark Rylance is going to play him at The Globe in the new year!!

But more of him later.

So who is the best actor in the world? Is it Al Pacino or Robert de Niro – what about Dustin Hoffman or some of the British? Daniel Day Lewis, Michael Sheene? Bit hard for Dustin Hoffman to play a Clint Eastwood role? And vice versa. And what about the women? The so called actresses?

How can one person be considered the best?

Mark Rylance, it has been said, is the best living performer of Shakespeare; and yet he doesn't believe Shakespeare wrote any of it. He has jumped on the skeptic band wagon and because he truly is a great Shakespeare performer people will believe him. I have seen him and he is great.

He is in a play in the west end called Jerusalem; the title is taken from the English song Jerusalem and the song is sung in the play.

Very respected senior critics who have been reviewing plays for many many years have said that Rylance's performance is the greatest performance that they have ever seen.

That's saying something isn't it?

He has won a Tony on Broadway for it and in the west end the Laurence Olivier Award. He can't win more than that. Maybe the critics are right.

The trouble is it's very hard to get a ticket to see it – I'm trying I really am but it costs a fortune for a bad seat - a seat behind a pole; I'll let you know what I think; if I ever get in.