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Stilletto Theatre poster

There are more photos from this production below. Selecting any of the small thumbnail images will show a larger version of the picture in the main part of the page. »

  1. Jones in full climbing gear sits on the peak and stares at the viewer through snow-crusted goggles
  2. Jones contemplating the black pudding with a degree of repulsion
  3. Jones adjusts his boot with Battersley in the background
  4. Jones and Battersley on the mountain

High Fidelity by John Downie - Jones

- The Playwrights' Company at The King Street Gallery, Bristol. Directed by Chris James.

This play was produced as part of a double-bill by the Playwrights' Company at the King Street Gallery in Bristol. Written by local writer John Downie, it is a melodrama whose protagonists are two climbers attempting to reach the peak of K2 (the second highest peak after Everest) without oxygen.As oxygen starvation starts to affect their mental processes the play enters a strange quasi-dream state where old secrets between the two men are revealed in a flood of words and emotions. Finally the mountain itself (personified by a mysterious woman - Caroline Goodall in a non-speaking role!) kills them - or does it...

The play was notable for me for three reasons. Firstly I had a speech at one point that contained 48 instances of the word 'fucking' - which is actually quite hard to do and make every one of them count!

Secondly myself, and Simon Treves who played Battersley the other climber, were wearing (for authenticity) pretty much what climbers wear to keep warm on top of a mountain - except that we were on an all-white set with every spotlight in the place un-gelled and turned up full to give the authentic 'snow-dazzle'. I have never been so hot in my life. We wore jeans and sweaters underneath the costumes just to soak up the sweat, and I could literally wring the jeans out at the end of the play. Still, it gave the audience a much-needed laugh when we referred to the freezing weather with sweat rolling down our faces.

The third reason was that at one point I had to slowly eat, with every evidence of enjoyment, a whole black pudding. Now I hate black pudding - always have done. Every night it was borderline whether I'd gag...or worse. The things you have to do for art...

"...exceptionally good...the writer is served faithfully in the torrent of words, analysis and even melodrama, by his climbers..."

Jones in full climbing gear sits on the peak and stares at the viewer through snow-crusted goggles
Jones contemplating the black pudding with a degree of repulsion
Jones adjusts his boot with Battersley in the background
Jones and Battersley on the mountain