When I was a young teenager in the 70s, the 1957 black and white film of Twelve Angry Men was on one Saturday afternoon. I didn't remember much about the film in terms of exactly how the story unfolded, but what has always been an overriding memory was just how gripped I was by the performances of the actors, and how it held my attention, despite being of the new generation that expected everything to be in colour and be fast and furious. Even back then it was evident that attention spans were getting shorter and popular entertainment was keeping up with this trend. Teenagers did not care about out of date actors in black and white films, yet I have never forgotten how I felt when I watched that film, despite remembering almost nothing else about it.
When Kim was home at Christmas she mentioned that there was a touring production of the stage play and that it was going to be in Manchester. She suggested to her granddad that she could take him to see it, as one of her client's was in it. I mentioned that I would like to see it, so we said we would go. As it turned out, that didn't happen and I'd pretty much forgotten about it, until Kim mentioned that she'd been to see it with Bekah, but that it had been the last night. Thinking that I'd missed my chance I was a little disappointed, but as I was looking for things to do during my week off work this week, I found that the tour had moved to Leeds, so we quickly booked tickets.
I was a little worried that my memory of how that film had made me feel, was not accurate, or that the live actors would not produce the quality of performances that would draw me in, like Henry Fonda did in the original. I didn't need to be worried. It was just brilliant. I loved every minute of it. The way it was staged, each individual characterisation, the script, which did not feel at all dated. The time passed too quickly, I could have stayed in their world much longer. I am so glad that I have the opportunity to go to the theatre and that my family share and enjoy this with me.
