The Challenge Behind the Natural Performance
Simon Callow has revealed the surprising truth behind Pauline Collins' seemingly effortless performance in Willy Russell's iconic play Shirley Valentine. While audiences at London's Vaudeville theatre in 1988 witnessed a natural, compelling portrayal that blended cheekiness with profound emotional depth, the reality was far from straightforward.
Callow, who directed Collins both in the West End and on Broadway, described how the actress found the one-woman show "hugely challenging" despite her reputation as a superb light-comedy performer. Rehearsals proved difficult as Collins struggled with the very elements that would make her performance memorable.
From Dread to Triumph
The director implemented unusual techniques to help Collins overcome her challenges. "I forced the poor woman to come into rehearsal every day and tell a new joke – torture for her, second nature to Shirley," Callow recalled. Another significant hurdle was mastering the practical element of cooking egg and chips on stage while delivering her character's life story.
Doubts even emerged from playwright Willy Russell himself, who initially feared Collins "wouldn't be Shirley." However, everything changed during the first preview when stage lights failed after just three minutes. From the darkness, Collins improvised: "Hey! Wha's going on? I paid me electric bills, right up to date."
Russell immediately grasped Callow's arm in the dark and whispered urgently: "She's got it. That's pure Shirley. There's nothing to worry about." This moment marked the turning point for what would become a legendary performance.
Beyond Shirley Valentine
Callow also directed Collins in Shades at London's Albery theatre in 1992, where she played a widow navigating complex relationships with her son and potential new partners. Despite receiving critical acclaim and playing to full houses, Collins disliked the experience, which prevented Callow from persuading her to take on other challenging roles like Juno in O'Casey's Juno and the Paycock or Linda in Death of a Salesman.
Beyond her professional achievements, Callow remembered Collins as "irresistible: kind, outrageous, sexy, loving, wickedly funny." Their first meeting began with her bluntly asking if he was "a poofter," then briskly moving on once he confirmed. In both London and New York, she created a celebratory atmosphere backstage, winning over even the most hardened Broadway crews.
When Collins eventually left the New York production, carrying her Tony award in her luggage, the theatre's atmosphere transformed back to being functional and impersonal, demonstrating the unique warmth she brought to every production.
