Michael Riedel

Michael Riedel

Theater

A loving salute to London’s National Theatre

Nicholas Hytner, the head of Britain’s National Theatre, has corralled quite a group of thespians to celebrate the theater’s 50th anniversary Nov. 2.

Judi Dench will re-create a scene from her performance as Cleopatra in the National’s celebrated 1987 production of “Antony and Cleopatra.” (I saw it when I was studying in London, standing in line all day until I snagged a student rush ticket — for $10!) She’ll also sing “Send In the Clowns” from “A Little Night Music,” which the National produced in 1995.

Maggie Smith will reprise her famous comic turn as Mrs. Sullen from the 1970 production of “The Beaux’ Stratagem.” Simon Russell Beale will be on hand with “Hamlet.” Ralph Fiennes will play Lambert Le Roux in a scene from David Hare and Howard Brenton’s play “Pravda,” about a newspaper baron. And there’s likely to be a reunion of Alan Bennett’s “The History Boys,” which Hytner directed and which won a Tony in 2006.

The gala is by invitation only — mine hasn’t arrived yet, Sir Nicholas! — but it will be broadcast live in movie theaters around the world. (Check NTLive.com for New York locations.)

If you want to get a flavor, a very zesty one, of what it was like to work at the National in its early years, get a copy of Michael Blakemore’s new memoir, “Stage Blood” (Faber and Faber). Blakemore is one of the world’s top directors, having staged the Broadway hits “Noises Off,” “City of Angels” and “Kiss Me, Kate.” He was set to direct “Rebecca” last fall, but if you follow this column, you know how that turned out.

He sent me a copy of his book, inscribed “For Michael Riedel — warily — but with my very best wishes!” I am devouring it.

Blakemore’s an elegant writer who serves up heaps of high-class backstage gossip. He joined the National in 1971 as an associate director under Laurence Olivier. I’ve read several biographies of Olivier, but nothing on the subject as incisive as this.

Olivier was an autocrat from the old school, meaning he worked out the details before rehearsals, then gave actors their marching instructions. He could, of course, be charming, generous and kind. But he gave the orders. Blakemore once objected to the fact that John Dexter, a co-associate director with whom Blakemore was supposed to be on equal footing, was promoted over his head.

“You can’t have it both ways, Larry!” Blakemore said.

“The smile on his lips was razor-thin,” he continues. ” ‘I can have it anyway I like!’ he crooned. Richard III had just addressed me.”

As Blakemore tells it, the National is full of Jacobean intrigue. Everybody’s nice to each other’s face, but as soon as a back is turned, the knife goes in. Especially treacherous is Dexter, who directed “Equus.” Whenever he’s about to do someone in, he speaks of himself in the third person: “John’s got something very difficult to say . . . but John’s got to say it.”

Blakemore’s chapter on the famous revival he directed of “Long Day’s Journey Into Night,” starring Olivier, is the best description I’ve ever read about what goes on in a rehearsal hall. You feel you’re right there watching Olivier create, with Blakemore’s guidance, one of his greatest roles.

Blakemore resigned from the National in 1976 after some bruising battles with Peter Hall, who ousted Olivier in a coup worthy of Richard III in 1973. Hall dished Blakemore in his malicious “Diaries” in 1983, and “Stage Blood” is Blakemore’s revenge.

I won’t give away the delicious details, but by the end of the book, Blakemore is carrying Hall’s head on a stake.

“Stage Blood” is the best theater book I’ve read since, well, Blakemore’s equally enthralling 2004 memoir, “Arguments With England.”

Both deserve a place of prominence on your shelf.

michael.riedel@nypost.com