Shock tactics

Until last week I was the only person on the planet not to have seen The History Boys. I now rejoin the human race in a state of wonder. Such a whopping hit, such flimsy materials. The setting happens to be familiar to me, a state school in the 1980s where a group of smart alecs are preparing to take Oxbridge. All Alan Bennett’s failings and strengths are on view here. The perfunctory storyline is made up of a few broad gestures culminating in a not-terribly-surprising surprise ending. The cast consists of straight characters who are stereotypes and gay characters who are stereotypes with knobs on. The rest is rhetoric, atmosphere and the occasional excellent joke.

‘Archaeology is popular because it’s the nearest history gets to shopping.’ Bennett relies heavily on shock tactics to get laughs. A dignified high-status male says ‘f***’, a facile ploy which is repeated several times, with, of course, diminishing results. Keen to top ‘f***’, Bennett makes a dignified high-status female say ‘c***’. It’s hardly Voltaire.

His teenage boys are as superficially drawn as the adults. There’s the fat jolly one (he’s fat and jolly), the hulking thick one (he’s hulking and thick), the Christian one (he talks about God), the Asian one (doesn’t say a lot) and the black one (barely a peep). All the boys are adorable and sublimely gifted. They recite poetry, dispute metaphysics, play duets at the piano, sing four-part harmonies and improvise comic playlets in fluent French. Ah, yes, I remember it well.

Bennett’s attention focuses on the heterosexual heart-throb, Dakin, and the gay drip, Posner, who’s also Jewish, for some reason. Posner fancies Dakin but Dakin is busy having a crack at the headmaster’s secretary. And after seducing her he relates the experience to his pals using metaphors drawn from the first world war.