Buckle up, people, because this is one bitch of a review for one bitch of a play.
Listen— if I'm going to dedicate my whole life for a noble cause, it'll be to formulate a hate-inducing, man-slapping cult against Look Back in Anger for ever being written. For ever existing with such a sick and awful agenda that must've been imbued in thousands via the author's mighty movement. This review will not just be anti the play itself, but against Osborne himself since I'm well studying his contextual background and the reasons why he wrote this in the first place. I'll be quoting my professor every once in a while, but fair warning that I won't give a rat's ass as to whether she did her research or not. I am usually more thorough in any critical review for or against a literary piece, but in this case, I won't give the satisfaction to John fucking Osborne.
Context for anyone who's reading this before I dive so deep: this play is about a man called Jimmy Porter who's fucking angry all the time. That's it. That's the whole story. You tell me why he's angry? I'll tell you for fucking colonist reasons, because dear baby Osborne couldn't take it that Britain lost the Suez Canal and that they were defeated in Hungary. Osborne thought it's a really fine idea to establish an entire movement, and call it the Angry Young Men Movement. What was their main issue? It was their "𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘰, 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰-𝘰𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺, 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴." (Luc Gilleman). And how did they try to achieve this? Well, by creating a misogynistic, even more rage-inducing genre to express their emotions and call it kitchen sink realism. Look Back in Anger was basically an inauguration of this new drama. It established the right to backlash at women for absolutely no reason.
Well fucking done, Osborne.
So, let's start with that gender representation, eh? Because easy, right? You, an esteemed writer in the TWENTIETH century, should well know how to represent people the way they are, not woebegonely diss an entire gender because you're fucking angry. But no, instead let's create Jimmy, a low class man who marries an upper middle class woman called Alison, in order to fucking piss on capitalism and class division. He literally marries her for revenge, and these are not even my words, everyone, but Osborne's. And not just that: Jimmy is verbally and physically abusive the whole play towards his wife, because ho ho motherfuckers that's how you do it. You enslave and manacle down the whole gender, ruin their lives, and call it justice because they "had it good" their entire lives. And not just that; Osborne embedded the idea of worshipping patriarchy, and that in the end women must get to their senses and understand that men were right all along. Despite the fact that when Alison returns she finds out he was cheating on her the entire time while she was gone. But yeah, let's forgive Jimmy because now she finally understands his anger and pain. What a fucking JOKE.
I haven't even started yet. According to my esteemed professor, who thought it's a fine nice idea to teach us this, the attack against women wasn't due their societal background only, but because, “𝘞𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺.” (Raymond Williams). Well, isn't this just delightful. It's not against the women guys!!!! It's just about society and women are the backlash. We are going to go against society, and in the middle of it turn against our women as well because some fuckhead decided the narrative should incline that. Day by day do I wish I was born in another time in order to give out just a few nicely rounded slaps.
The misogyny is going to take me a while, so perhaps scroll a bit down further if you're already sick of what you're reading. I, too, am sick of what I read. Because you know what? Sometimes authors try to be subtle about their misogynistic thoughts, even some skillfully hide it inside their texts and seldom would you find an uprise about it, but John Osborne made it his personal mission with this play to become the absolute worst human being. I could quote the book, and believe me, you can pretty well get hateful quotes from every single page, but I'll try to narrow it down because I'm already sick of remembering that I will still write a paper about this or however way the professor makes us pass the course.
“𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚, 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙣-𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙖 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙪𝙥. 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙙𝙟𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙀𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞���𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝—𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚! 𝙋𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙨!”
•
“𝘿𝙞𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝘼𝙧𝙖𝙗, 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙗 𝙛𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙡𝙚? 𝙒𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙨𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙂𝙤𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙨! 𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙜𝙪𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙣𝙤 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.”
•
“𝙇𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙪𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨. 𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙩, 𝙄 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜— 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙠𝙨, 𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙨, 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨, 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙚, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙒𝙝𝙮? 𝙏𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚. 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙛 𝙄'𝙢 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙙.”
And that's just act 1 for y'all. News flash it only gets worse. His verbal abuse is just infinite. Seriously, someone give this man a medal for having the stamina to be this fucking awful all the time. You go through the entire play and it's just Jimmy being resentful and abusive. He constantly takes pleasure in insulting his wife and her societal background. He gets even angrier when Alison, who's nearly always silent, doesn't shit back on him. He alienates himself (which is Osborne's stand on how he felt in Britain at that time) and thinks that he's the only one with valid emotions and deserves the right to speak. When others try to talk with him, or God forbid do something worthwhile on their own without asking for his fucking unwanted opinion, he disqualifies their right and egotistically says, “𝙄'𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙧, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚, 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚.” And yet, when they don't even bother replying to his hateful spew, he rages even more for being ignored. “𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣'𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙊𝙡𝙙 𝙋𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥.” Well, news fucking flash, no one likes talking to a hateful person like you, bitch.
Oh, and the emotional manipulation! My my, how could I forget. Dear Jimmy doesn't just disrespect and hurt and cheat on Alison, but he also emotionally manipulates her to a sickening extent that she couldn't even bring herself to tell him that she was pregnant. Her friend called her father on her to finally come and take her, because she couldn't do it herself without feeling like she was asking for something she shouldn't be given. As if Jimmy took any and all respite out of her system. And it doesn't end just here, bois. The "everything I've done for you" narrative is there. As if Jimmy ever did anything for her or for us other than ruin our fucking evenings. Again, I must stress on the fact that she couldn't even, for the life of her, tell her husband that she's pregnant and confided in their friend instead. Because when she was about to actually tell him, Jimmy prescribes for Alison's lack of authenticity that if ever she should have a child that it should die. That's how sick of a character he was. That's the character you're supposed to define as a hero, or even an anti-hero. Kill my fucking soul before I do either.
Somewhere I had read a critical appreciation for this play that says something in the terms of if you're young, this play will get to you. But really, how could anyone justify or accept this narrative. I am disgusted and sick that some people actually resonate with such violent, rageful ways of expression. “𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴.” (Quote someone I cannot recall right now and I'm too dedicated to this trashing to even look it up.) What kind of sick entertainment is this, to give people verbal abuse and expect them to actually be moved in a right direction from it. Jimmy Porter’s cries of anger are supposedly the cries of a whole generation. Yet, what sick of a generation it must have been to think that resentment and anger are the way to achieving one's hopes and aspirations. I understand it must've been a difficult time, and that the generation gap and the class gap must've ruined thousands of lives, yet in the end the solution does not reside in taking an entire gender hostage, decapitate their rights and freedom, and represent them as your problem in order to try and fix the problem.
Bitterness, simply, should not justify actions. Want your new ethic to go “𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪-𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪-𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪-𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯” (Judith Rider and Harold Silver), do it in a respectable way that would make the reader actually bother to listen to what you're saying. I personally don't agree with any of that, but that's my own personal opinion, and couldn't even be nudged especially after a hateful narrative. Sympathy cannot stem from resonating with hate. I believe that Osborne's way at trying to move people was even worse than the circumstances they ached to be moved from. And what's worse is that the play could've even been culminated with a respectful intonation, or just one that doesn't further degrade women for the sake of making peace with "society", but Osborne would rather stick his anger in our faces than stick it up his—
May God give me strength to keep up with the shitty works I have to keep studying. And may my professor stumble across this review because I really wouldn't mind being kicked out of uni at this point.