I stand at the entrance to the Fellows’ Garden in Christ’s College as the evening begins to set. I have my rucksack in hand, phone in the other, when I receive a message from Henry Jaspars. I stroll forward, turning round a small corner of trees, to find eight actors rehearsing a scene. I had tentatively reached out to Henry (the director of Brassed Off) in September to discuss the prospect of a preview for the show, and was warmly greeted with an invitation to this rehearsal, along with a quick pint afterwards! Varsity Theatre, oh how you treat me. After Henry introduces me to the cast, I take a seat on the grassy meadow and observe.

“The accent work is spectacular: a real testament to the efforts of the play’s star and unofficial accent coach, Greg Worden”

“Drink with scabs, do ya?’’ Adam Page’s Phil piercingly asks his peers as they inquire about his evening plans. Behind him, his co-stars, quietly so as not to disturb their peers, diligently rehearse their own lines. Despite the serene setting, everyone is hard at work: Henry occasionally chimes in with a few aperçus on the scene currently taking place before concentration is quickly restored; a worrying sombreness filling the air as the characters discuss the future of their group. The accent work is sublime: a real testament to the efforts of the play’s star and unofficial accent coach, Greg Worden. As the rehearsal closes, Henry and I begin our walk out of Christ’s into the hustle-and-bustle of Sidney Street and move towards the Pickerel.

Brassed Off has been a long time coming for the director. The play follows a colliery brass band following the closure of their pit. Set ten years after the 1984 Miners’ Strike, the group decide to commit to a final run on the competition circuit, all the while struggling to make money and descending into bleaker circumstances. Coming from a family of brass banders himself, Henry started playing in Year 3, arriving at university to discover the delights of the Cambridge University Brass Band, a society that his “incredibly talented” mother had founded: “all my family play brass band instruments - my mum met my dad’s trombone mute before she met [him, while] playing Rhapsody in Blue together.” The 1996 film of Brassed Off was consequently very familiar material, and something Henry was excited to direct after the success of his previous production, Copenhagen.

“Something that keeps becoming clearer in our conversation is Henry’s attention to detail”

A self-described perfectionist, Henry describes how difficult it is to direct a play adapted from a film. “A lot of the scenes are very short: in Act 2, we have 24 scenes! The play has to have three things going on stage at the same time, it’s quite tricky.” Yet, I’m never worried that this will be a significant challenge for this production as it has been for other shows. Something that keeps becoming clearer in our conversation (ironic, given the presence of alcohol) is Henry’s attention to detail. Earlier during rehearsal, he was quick to point out to cast members whereabouts pieces of set would be: a good approach given the breakdowns I’ve seen directors endure when their pitch-perfect blocking is upended by the sudden presence of a “giant f*cking wall!”

For the director, the play remains incredibly pertinent, even outside of its personal significance: “Theatre is about empathy… [the final monologue is] just calling for empathy for people who are completely screwed over by the government and the press.” This is an approach that has bled over into Henry’s approach to his cast and crew: “it takes a village to make a play - everyone’s judgment matters. There’s never been a moment where it’s just like, I don’t want to hear what you have to say, we’re moving on. We stop, we actually engage, and we think how can we integrate this into the play.” Unafraid of any expectations generated by the film, the team prefer to view it as a “framework” to play with, rather than an instructive vision of how the finalised play should look: Henry cheekily refers to the creation of The Thick Of It as an example of how much actors and crew can contribute to a narrative, even if some parameters have already been set. With a team as talented as his, (just LOOK at that CamDram!) there is little cause for concern.

We end our discussion, and subsequent walk back to Market Square, with talk of our upcoming theatre projects, the best of our time in Cambridge and our favourite pieces of modernist literature. (I’m sadly never escaping my degree.) Throughout, I am continuously struck by Henry’s extensive knowledge and eloquence. A true devotee to the art form of theatre, and a brilliantly intelligent director, I return to college with a smile on my face, and a ticket to Brassed Off safely secured in my pocket.