Okay, so I’m a bit ambivalent. Just a bit. But a bit.

I love Sharon Gless. I think her and Tyne Daly’s portrayal of two women detectives some 30 odd  years ago did more for feminism than many an article written by well, feminists.

Also: What’s not to love about the story of a (real life, btw!!!) woman who advertises in a literary magazine: Before I turn 67 next March, I want to have a lot of  sex with a man I like. If you want to talk first, Trollope works for me. (Trollope not being  synonymic for whore (another synonym being Round-Heeled Woman, btw) , but the name of a famous author who wrote Jane Juska’s favorite novel about a woman of the Biedermeier who comes into money and is – at 36! – all of a sudden “a catch”! And that is what Jane wants to be – a catch, after years of an unloving marriage, a divorce and teaching to overcome the loneliness of her life)

Hooray! More power to her! Even though the men she then encounters are enough to get you off sex for good. Which is one of the weaknesses of the otherwise very clever, very funny,  very shamelessly to the point play. The various men presented (and incredibly funnily so) are all more or less morons and I kept asking myself: just for a romp in the hay would I really leave my dignity at home? would I really try to do the deed with THAT? No surprise she needs KY jelly (yes, it IS that kind of play! LOL)

Because despite her fresh and catchy ad Jane of course seeks a man she LIKES, a man that accompanies her, that makes her feel whole again. Unfortunately – just as during Biedermeier, where Trollope’s heroine found out  her suitors loved her money more than herself, – Jane has to realise that in modern times men like the sex more than herself. That is until -  after a lot of false starts – Jane finally meets Graham (Michael Thomson) who – as the only one – got her Trollope remark, who makes her laugh and who openly adores and worships her. His one fault? He is 33. The age her son is now – a son she hasn’t seen in 18 years.

So in an attempt to get everything right till that magical 67th birthday she finally makes herself fall for a decent man her age – who promptly has to confess he has liver cancer – and she googles her lost son only to find that the young frustrated punk had turned into a man with a job and a wife that is pregnant. And who is willing to make a new start on the mother/son relationship. And after all this bed hopping and soul searching Jane finally does what her heroine out of Trollope’s novel tells her: she kisses her own image in a mirror – she accepts herself with all her flaws and longings – and writes another email: I’ll be in a cabin in the woods with my family for a week. then my family leaves and I am staying for another week. Would you like to come and have … me? To which Graham answers: Load yer truck, lady, here I come…

I thought the play was hilarious. there were so many brilliant one liners (Jane’s son when she confides in him about the ad: so this is Fucking against the dying of the light? I thought I’d pee myself) (or Jane’s enthusiastic, blue eyed “Everything was better in Biedermeier! Name just one thing that wasn’t!” and her current man  answers “medicine!”) all impeccably presented by Sharon Gless and her co cast, it’s hard to remember them all. I do remember laughing a lot. The men Jane meets are mostly losers, but even that is a bit like real life, where you have to kiss a lot of frogs until one – hopefully – turns into a prince. And I realise that in the compressed form of a play you have to portray them as morons, but as I said before: I wouldn’t touch most of them with a looong stick. Just me, probably.

Now onto Sharon Gless. I love her. She’s marvellous. She owns the stage. (and she’s never off it for two hours!) Every wink, every innuendo is perfectly placed, enhances the text of the play, makes you laugh at all too crass descriptions. She is a wonderful actress who is a master of the tricks of the trade.

But, like many American actors I have seen on stage, she is just that: a brilliant actress who knows exactly what to do to present a character. Just – she never becomes the character. She stays sort of detached while exercising her part with brilliant precision. There is a scene where she is crying… there was not one tear shed. Her eyes didn’t even start to glitter in the light. I had been to Haunted Child the night before where both Ben Daniels and Sophie Okonedo shed very real tears in their creation of their parts and their inner struggles  and yet, when I talked to Ben afterwards and told him how much I admired his ability to go through this roller coaster of emotions every night, sometimes twice, he said, awww, that’s just tricks of the trade. Indeed, I’d just never guessed by watching him or Ms Okonedo. I definitely guessed while watching Sharon Gless.

Now this didn’t take away (much) from the enjoyment of watching the play. But the final bit, that bit where you sit in your seat and can’t decide to clap yet because you don’t want to break the magic, THAT bit – that was missing.

stagedoor

not missing, unfortunately, were the stage door sharks at Gless’ play. Hadn’t had the decency to watch the show, but had her sign numerous pics of her in Cagney & Lacey. And the very same sharks then came over to Haunted Child to pester Ben Daniels to sign pics of him as Tristan. I find that really appalling. No wonder Gless did not sign in person, but had her assistant bring stuff inside.

Christmastime is pantotime! And  Panto with John Barrowman always makes for good fun and two hours of laughter and hilarity. Despite the very formulaic and strict frame of all Panto stories there’s enough leeway not only for a lot of extra laughter, but also for  extemporisation and banter between the actors themselves and the actors and the audience.

Last year, while we were freezing in icy Glasgow, John Barrowman promised us Barbados – little did we know (copyright Bev) he meant on stage…

Because this year’s Panto is Robinson Crusoe and the Caribbean Pirates, cleverly starting off in Glasgow, where lucky Robinson (in red  pants and a red and golden sleeveless vest) has found a treasure map under deck of his ship. Now he, his father Captain Krankie and his identical twin brother wee Jimmy (“if Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito could pull it off so can we!”) are looking for a crew to find the treasure and be able to reign over Glasgow, over Scotland and even … Paisley!! Unfortunately they are not alone in this quest: There’s the pirate Captain Blackheart (the incomparable Pete Gallagher in wig and make-up as Captain Jack – “Wait!!! there’s only one Captain Jack!!” – Sparrow, or Captain J. Depp…) who has searched for the map for years and in the end found a mermaid (the woman who had rejected his proposal and therefore found herself with a fish tail – only to become a maiden again by true love’s kiss) who inadvertedly spilled the beans. He “offers” his help and becomes part of the crew.

The ship soon is on its way to the Caribbean, when Blackheart finally reveals that he is the pirate everyone was so afraid of. Though Robinson hadn’t shown him the map (Blackheart: “The map, the map the map, he has the map…” to an improvised belly dance, to which Robinson says: “Nothing escapes you, no?”) Blackheart now casts a spell and creates a storm that has Robinson’s ship sinking – so that he can grab the map.

Lucky for Robinson the magical mermaid is there to the rescue – not only is she in love with the Glaswegian, she doesn’t realise that Robinson has fallen for her, too. So out of love she has Robinson – in a hilarious red and white swimsuit from the 20ies, a yellow floating tyre and flippers – breathing and talking under the sea. The normally tight swimsuit is just loose enough to be decent, and John milks the scene with the huge tyre till everybody is crying with laughter. Now the new 3-D-effects start and they are even better than last year’s. We get bubbles and stone-explosions, an enormous squid, terrifying fish, crabs and finally a shark that had me flinch every time it emerged!

Then Robinson is finally swept ashore and – “be quiet, this is my big fainting scene!!” – lies there in the sand while the mermaid summons Man Friday (Jeremy Fontanet) to guide Robinson to the treasure before Blackheart has the chance to rob it. Robinson wakes up  and – “MAN if that’s Friday, I’d love to know what Saturday looks like!” – drools just as much over the half naked built actor as every female in the audience. He even fails to recognise the mermaid

With Friday he’s on his way to the treasure,they have to fight a last obstacle – a huge Krakken, a sea monster of epic proportions that seems to fly into the audience and breathes fire! in a duet (John said it was planned as another solo for him, but he had to change costumes again, so Jeremy sings part of it) Robinson and Friday fight the monster (and John’s voice is absolutely marvellous, soaring over the orchestra and clear as a victorious trumpet) and Robinson slays the beast.

Meanwhile the Krankies emerge from the sea – they have survived, too. Thanks to the friendly natives led by Friday they all rest for the night (while acrobats “the Acromaniacs” show off their skills) in Friday’s house. The villa is yet another Panto-speciality with its revolving doors and closets that open with ghosties and ghoulies in them…

What ensues now is the most hilarious threesome I have ever had the pleasure to see. Some ppl have deemed this scene improper for children – BEFORE they had even seen it, mind you! I needed new make-up after that, I cried so hard with laughter. Wee Jimmy sees all the scary ghosts, Robinson – in superman pajamas -  is in the closet (“You never were in the closet!” “Shut up, we’re in enough trouble as it is!”), Jimmy and Robinson are in the same bed, when another ghost chases them out of it, (to much screaming of the audience) and they hide in Captain Krankie’s bed. Jimmy’s the last one to clamber onto the bed (humming “Memoriiiies” while straddling her husband) and falls onto Robinson (“Fantasiiiiies!”) in his attempt to find the middle spot of the bed. As Jimmy’s hungry he dives under the covers to find something to eat – and finds a banana. (Captain: “that’s mine!!” Robinson: “if you find a salami, that’s mine!”) and indeed Jimmy waves with a huuuuge slab of sausage which causes first the Captain and then Robinson to fall out of the bed. When they finally are able to rest someone poops and the twins run away.

The next day finds the three together with Friday as they  start their trip through 3-D-ghosts and spiders to find the treasure. There is a run in with a scary ogre in a magical forest and finally the only obstacle left is Pirate Blackheart who gets deterred by Wee Jimmy masked as Beyonce with a growing belly! the young audience (I sat between 5 year olds at one time) loves that kind of humor – they were screaming and singing along and laughing. Unfortunately there is yet another run in with Blackheart with a hilarious sword fighting scene with Robinson – but again Wee Jimmy (this time as Spider Man) saves the day and Blackheart is banned to …Paisley!  Now a child from the audience gets to come up the stage to unlock the treasure trove. And then all draws to an end – but wait!! What about the magical mermaid?

Indeed – and thankfully Friday is not jealous (“Don’t flatter yourself!”) – there still is work to be done: Robinson, who has fallen for the mermaid, too, finds her resting on a boulder, and his kiss (to the chanting of excited kids: KISS HER KISS HER!!) breaks the spell. A lovely girl again, she says yes when he proposes!

After a final part from the Krankies (which gives everyone time to change costumes again) there’s the final curtain. And nobody has actually realised it has been two and a half hours of brilliant, innuendo laden, fun, clean, laughable, traditional Panto. Everyone leaves with a smile on their faces, after a great – often first – night at the theatre.

Much has been said about the “unfortunate” interview the Krankies gave just as their Panto started – that they were swingers in the swinging 70ies… well, they incorporate the interview into their jokes when the audience doesn’t consist of children only and it’s absolutely hilarious. John is his naughty, fun loving self who is able to crack up in the middle of the scene, bringing the audience with him in helpless laughter. It’s just fabulous family entertainment along the lines of traditional panto. And it’s great!

addendum from January

one of the tiny guests, Adam, was absolutely hilarious – the wee one answered to “what did you get for christmas?” with: A fishtank and.. jammies” and the look on his face when he said jammies was absolutely priceless. John was basically breaking down on the stage. he then asked, “so what about the fish in the fishtank” to which the boy said: they were all sick….” John flat on the floor and Man Friday barely holding up and having to hide his face. John, laboriously coming up for air: “They’re all dead?” in broad scottish to which the boy sagely nodded. John: “Get the boy some more fish!!!”

That said I have two tiny complaints with this year’s panto:

Whilst I really like the Krankies – they are a hilarious pair and I’m happy that they got under contract with Gavin Barker Associates! – I was a bit disappointed that their big last number was basically the same as last year. Now I do realise that very few people are as obses… determined as I am to see more than one show of the same panto per year, but for me it was a bit of a let down – most of all because I think that the Krankies are not a one-act-act… And as soon as I post I learn (thank you, Stephen) that this is their “signature” piece that people would feel cheated out of if the Krankies didn’t do it. They’d done it for 40 years and it is part of their act. I’m very grateful for the explanation!

The second bit I was not too keen about: this time acrobats were hired, four men doing a brilliant show with a trampoline, a chest used in acrobatics and a mattress. It was really awesome, their mastery of their bodies amazing. What it had to do with the show though, will forever be beyond me.  I learned that an acrobatic number was a must in traditional panto, so I understand why they were there, but as much as I admire their skills, the act left me rather unimpressed. But that’s just me of course. I thought this part and the identical Krankie number made the second act a bit slower than the pulsing and mad-dash of the first part that had us all breathless from all that happened on stage and from laughter.

The song list (as I keep telling my lovely readers, I am LOUSY at the song lists)

Hey Ho, we’re pirates till the end

Sondheim’s Putting it together

Celebration

That special moment

the duet during the Krakken fight that was written especially for Panto last year

a brilliant solo for Pete Gallagher

All the single ladies

dirrrty wee boy

but you love me Daddy

and John has at least two solo numbers but I can’t remember them right now, sigh. help is greatly appreciated.

oh and this time there’s one other thing:  Do not reproduce this review or parts of it without asking. If you have something to say, comment and I’ll answer. thank you

The official summary reads: A small boy is driving his mother to distraction – waking at night, hearing phantom noises and fixating on his absent father. When he glimpses a figure prowling the house at night, a shadow is cast which gradually strips away his childhood certainties.

listen to Sophie Okonedo and Ben Daniels

And this is probably the least favorable synopsis one could give – even though the play derives its title from these first scenes, where Julie tries to calm her son by talking about his nightmares and calling him a “haunted child”. But there is so much more to this play by Joe Penhall – the little boy just seems to be a catalyst for all that ensues in the next two hours.

Because the play does not just deal with the hauntings of a little boy, but with everything that haunts the grown-ups too – their fear of being left alone, their need to belong, their sense of responsibility or their lack thereof and their regrets. There is a veil of sadness hanging over this family, that clouds their judgement and makes them vulnerable – just as vulnerable as a little boy who all of a sudden hears someone moving in the attic, hears noises that shouldn’t be there.

His mother doesn’t believe him, until one night she stumbles down the stairs and almost runs into her husband Douglas, who disappeared weeks ago, left work and family behind to find a way out of his bottomless desperation, his depression that had engulfed him since his father had died years ago.

But the man who comes back into Julie’s life is not the man she knew – not only has he lost his teeth and a considerable amount of weight, judging by the way his clothes are hanging on him, he also looks disheveled, his hair too long and his beard scraggly. But what is probably the most disturbing: Douglas has found religion – in his quest to escape his desperation he has been picked up by an apparently charismatic guru, who deprived him of sleep, food and drink and pressed him into a set of rules that leave no room for individuality. “I believed you were dead – and in some ways this is worse…” she says at one point when faced with alien ideas and concepts that have no place in her reality. And yet – still Julie hopes for a continuation of their life together as they knew it – a life spent as a family, when the brainwashed stranger in her husband’s body responds to her just like her husband did – even though his guru had told them to abandon all carnality for good (and masturbate to specific pictures provided by the guru if nature becomes too overwhelming).

The next morning becomes unbearable to Julie, though. Douglas, guilt ridden that he has sinned, does a weird cleansing ritual and plans on going back to his group – after selling the house that Julie tried to make into a home for their son, handing the money over to his guru as an entrance fee. It is only then Julie accepts that he is beyond help from her – now she is fighting for her child as Douglas tries to take the boy with him – a child needs adventure! he says while she says: a child needs structure and rules. He leaves.

And comes back dirty, battered and alone – without money, he was worth nothing to his group, was nothing and abandoned again and so came back to a place where mother and son had come to a fragile peace about the fact that Douglas would never return. He comes home to his suitcases packed…

The play gives you flashes of lives, glimpses into the souls of three people, with little structure, but a lot of psychological insight wrapped into monologues and dialogues that have you poised on the edge of your seat. At first I missed the classical structure of any play but now I think Penhall’s way of telling this story, in scenes that seem to be ripped out of the lives of his protagonists, even deepens the drama and heightens the sense of urgency that comes with Douglas’ desperate attempts of finding any  meaning in his life.

Of course the play depends on excellent actors to pull off the tension, to make the drama believable. The Royal Court Theatre was therefore very lucky to get Sophie Okonedo and Ben Daniels as their Julie and Douglas. Both actors have known each other for years, and been friends, and their rapport on stage is amazing. Their intensity and the chemistry they have together create the perfect environment for a midnblowingly brilliant performance. These two together create exactly the sort of magic theatre should be. Such is rare (only Holding The Man comes to mind as equally awe inspiring) and should be celebrated. And it will make me come back in January.

Addendum January

so I saw it again – and it was even better. They had tightened the play, tweaked and cut it – not even that much, but obviously very well, because it now worked better, the scenes flowing into each other with greater precision without losing any significant text or subtext. On the contrary – now the play makes one thing clear:  They are all haunted.

One of the pivotal scenes is where Douglas tries to convince Julie to come with him into his cult – into his world – a world where there is guidance, where there are no responsibilities other than observe the spiritual leader’s words. A world where they can discover what they really want, according to Doug, where they can be children again. And Julie is on the verge of accepting all this – a tempting thought: to be freed  from your responsibilities as a grown up, a mother, a working class woman, and being guided to spirituality, to become a child… but what about her son? He IS a child – what is he supposed to become? And how are they supposed to have more children within this group if they have to forsake all carnality? And as she asks this questions, the answers Doug is providing sound like out of a badly written book, they are empty. Julie is too grounded to be sucked into the cult’s rationalising – she sends her husband away, without his money.

When he comes back battered and destroyed, kneeling at Julie’s feet, it becomes clear: He is the child desperately seeking any kind of hold on life. And even his strange ramblings about his soul being part of his son, his own father’s soul being part of him and therefore part of his son too, so his son might even be his father – a litany that had confused his beloved child, becomes clear and true to an extent. Because his own son now stands next to his mother, and both pat the sobbing man’s head, a comforting gesture used to calm a little boy…

the packed suitcases now symbolising more an end of an era, the era of Doug being in charge, rather than his ejection.

As I said before – the play grew and got even better, both Sophie Okonedo and Ben Daniels were riveting, and made the audience geel for and with them. I am very lucky to have seen this play at the beginning and the end of the run. The last performances were absolutely AWESOME!

Whatsonstage – I couldn’t have said it any better!!!

The Guardian

The ArtsDesk

The Wharf

The Financial Times

Talk about dysfunctional families – a brilliant glimps into the hate/love of a long defunct marriage, a husband with a young lover, three sons who are a jock, a cunning manipulator and a rather dim wannabe who are all fighting for power and gain. One of the sons is gay, one a sociopath and one plain stupid. And both parents, though living apart for obvious reasons, still mourn the death of their eldest son who in hindsight and with the misty-eyed view of their past, would have been the perfect successor for both his father’s and his mother’s enterprises. So this is indeed a very modern play – even though it is set in 1183 and the players are Henry II and his wife Eleonore of Aquitane and their sons Richard Lionheart, Jeffrey and John Lackland…

Assisted by brilliant Joanna Lumley and Robert Lindsay, the story unfolds as Henry wants John as his successor, Eleonore wants Richard and Philipp of France wants his sister married off and to continue his dalliance with Richard. On a very cold and dark Christmas Day the twists and turns of these plotters and schemers revolve around power and one upmanship until in the end nothing has been solved and the status quo is reestablished – a war with Philipp probably avoided and every solution postponed until the next time Eleonore is let out of her luxury prison – at Easter. The war of words will continue – and will end only after Henry’s and Eleonore’s death, when they are put to rest next to each other in Fontevront Abbey.

It’s a brilliant play, obviously known through the movie, but well played in London and well worth a visit! Lindsay and Lumley find the perfect interplay showing their love and contempt for each other. Go and see – it’ s fantastic!

It’s autumn and with the falling of leaves there also comes the shedding of inhibitions for fans when they embark on a trip with Entertainer John Barrowman during one of his shows.

And as John certainly knows his fans (and his demographic, it appears) he feeds our every need. There’s stories about his childhood again, lots of pictures to document and prove the hilarious tidbits he gives away, and enough innuendo to fill three two-hour shows and not just one. And that is a VERY good thing, believe me.

But there is also his incredible energy that sweeps the audience off their feet, clapping, singing along and cheering when he starts off in a sparkly blue suit with a medley of all new songs that set the tone for the evening. It’s indeed all about entertaining. The J4 have their moments in the spotlight, well deserved, with a solo number (to give John the time to don yet another of his four – blue, green, purple and red  – outfits) and they do sing well and dance even better, and raised the estrogen level among the (mostly) female audience when ripping their clothes off.

Jodie Prenger is a firecracker who’s on stage in the first half with two songs and in the second half  with two more songs, a very bluesy rendition of the hit Umbrella amongst it, until she’s reunited with John to do  So Close. And as much as I’d have liked to see someone new on stage together with John, I loved every second of Jodie on stage.

Also John’s parents make an appearance  in the midst of hilarious stories (probably very well made up) about their private lives, dressed as a construction worker and a sexy police woman – so the logical conclusion was to perform YMCA from the Village People.

One of the highlights of the show – well, for me at least – was an absolutely amazing medley of Eurovision Song Contest winning songs, and a Hollywood medley accompanied by pictures of him with Bob Hope and with Petula Clark whose Downtown started this segment… where John had all the audience singing along.

And then the show was almost over and a last change into a brilliant black suit with sparkly sequins adorned to back and arms and its pink lapels was on the menue, in which John then performed the last few songs that had us all giving standing ovations – which clearly moved him. And when the show finally ended with his anthem I am what I am everybody was VERY happy and in the best of moods.

stage door:

no such thing. it’s already too cold after the shows, John had a bit of a sore throat and made it out the back door to his car, where his parents and Scott were already at the ready. He drove off while standing up, waving through the open roof and to the cheers of the waiting fans. A wonderful evening, a marvellous memory.

But please don’t expect John to sign after the show – at all three shows I saw he just tried to get home / to a hotel as quickly as possible. He does have his parents with him as they are part of his show, so it’s understandable that he doesn’t want to keep them waiting.

***

Unfortunately not a great venue was Brentwood – which I actually refuse to call a proper venue and the concert started 20 minutes late. It was a sports hall, where people in the wings were unable to see much of John, the acoustics were a challenge and the security – all tough guys with microphones clasped to their ears just as they saw it on US-TV shows – did NOTHING when a nutty woman walked all the way down to the front of the stage where John was singing to take pictures. John was dealing with the situation admirably, but he shouldn’t have had to deal with this at all. Security btw watched the drama unfold and kept standing at the corners of the so called stage, looking the other way.(the crazy woman fell on her way back to her place, btw – so she was probably drunk, too)

The “venue” was indeed that bad that John felt the need to apologize via twitter afterwards – but it was definitely not his fault at all.

***

What a difference a day made: I had the pleasure of seeing the third concert, too! This time in the renowned corn exchange in Cambridge, a tried and tested venue with fantastic acoustics and an intimate feel to it that made the show a very special event, indeed. the only mishap that had us all in stitches with laughter though: the fog machine run amok right at the beginning of the show and produced greyness to last the venue a lifetime. Which made John play “Foghorn” while the smoke was slowly vanishing again. hilarious doesn’t even start to cover it.

***

addendum – the London concert – it was a true joy to watch – the orchestra and John and the J4s were on fire and working together like a well oiled perfected machine, the venue, the renowned Palladium theatre, added to the wonderful “feel” of a masterpiece concert. that the whole gig was also a fun fan convention where people who only met on twitter and via the lists finally came together and had fun was an added bonus. And everybody wanted to be a fly on the wall of the Green Room, a bar in the Palladium, where after the show John continued to entertain his guests, Kai Owen among them.

***

addendum . Cardiff -

Cardiff is always “special”, the fans learned years ago. it’s “home” to John and he seems to enjoy his time on stage there even more than anywhere else. That said it’s no surprise he filled the huge venue almost to the last seat. The audience was going strong from the beginning, and John once again was on fire, performing and just plainly having fun. Eve Myles was in the audience and recognised immediately by the fans (there was a rumor that Gareth David Lloyd was attending too, but I didn’t spot him at any point, nor did the audience, who immediately crowded around Eve who let them take pictures).

John’s parents milked their scenes until there wasn’t a dry eye in the audience, adlibbing until even John himself broke down in helpless laughter (” I think I peed myself a bit”) which didn’t help…

But the real treat was when some stage hand brought Scott Gill on stage, who at first seemed a bit taken aback by the enthusiasm of the audience, but relaxed as soon as John was holding his hand (together now: awwwwwwwwwwwwww). And then the band started to play Rhinestone Cowboy and the incomparable Mr Gill was “forced” to sing along. It was a brilliant rendering of the song, showing off Scott’s deep voice even tho the first few bars were a bit… a tiny bit off key, but endearingly so. John joined immediately as the “choir” and all went absolutely brilliant and perfect (and obviously rehearsed, even tho they made as if John had just plotted right now) – “now work the audience” and John led Scott to the sides of the stage to woo the audience there – until he finally held the note to which Scott kept on singing. Perfect! Standing Ovation for Scott! and  a last send off from John “He’s gonna kill me for that tonight!” LOL

Stage door – we waited. sigh. for hhhoooourrrs it seemed! LOL but we saw Eve and family come out and Gavin leave – they had all been at the small reception held in the venue. Then finally John came out – happy, content but – and that was a  new one – absolutely knackered and thanked us for being there and supporting him etc. it was marvellous and I loved every second. So happy I was able to see Cardiff this year…

The set list – well, I’m notoriously bad at that and grateful for any input. that’s what I recalled so far

Celebration (as the intro)

firework

and thanks to the wonderful Jo Julier:

Holiday medley

Hollywood (Buble)

Listen to the music

Mandy

Eurovision medley: Kisses for Me, Boombangabang, Making your mind up (J4s) Waterloo

Tonight’s the Night

Greatest Day by Take That

You Raise Me Up from Josh Groban

I owe it all to you

And I love you so

the winner takes it all

what about us

Downtown

YMCA

So Close with Jodie

I am what I am

How far can your love for telling the truth go? How much truth can people stomach? What is truth and when is it actually more merciful to obfuscate and tell a lie?And finally – where will it leave you if you tell the truth all the time?

It seems Moliere,  under patronage from a few aristocrats and well equipped by the royal court (he was even allowed to use rooms in the palace appointed for performances), was quite fed up with the hypocrisies of that same aristocratic society when he wrote this play i n 1666, trying to make the court see just how vain and false they all are.

In the play Misanhrope Alceste always tells the truth – not caring if he is hurting people or just destroying his life at court. Even when he falls in love with the beautiful young widow Celimene, he has to tell her just how much he despises her behaviour at court as she is flirty and enjoys quite a few suitors at the same time. When Alceste mocks the badly written sonnett of a powerful and rich courtier, he is charged, sentenced and humiliated and decides to go to exile.

But Alceste’s truth is just the truth as he sees it – and his belief that he has seen through all the lies at court takes a blow when he realises that his beloved Celimene, who had kissed and sworn to love only him, had instead written identical love letters to all her suitors. Not able to cope with her lies but still in love with her, he asks her to follow him into exile.

He leaves alone.

The play – now rated as Moliere’s best – was not a success when it was first performed – audiences complained that Alceste is made to look like a fool on stage. And that was one of the things I didn’t like either. Even though Ben Carlson tried hard to make Alceste believable, the character given by Moliere still makes you think: well, would it have been so hard to bend a little? Which is probably exactly the opppsite of what Moliere tried to achieve with the play.

I also didn’t like the rather pompous verse – but then I have to admit that I am not a massive fan of Moliere’s work. I guess that a lot of French literature and plays are pieces I need to see more often to get to like them. I probably won’t see The Misanthrope again.

It’s all about the music. The very complex story of four people in love – and love has so many faces – , the pairs being shuffled and shifted until they find their other halves, it’s still all about music in this interpretation of the fabulous Twelfth Night.And it works – with a rock band on the stage and the incredible versatility of the actors involved it works like a charm, like the magic it’s supposed to be.

The story is most likely very well known: Duke Orsino is in love with Countess Olivia, who mourns her beloved brother and is intent on rejecting his advances. Sir Toby Belch tries to wed her off to his best friend, Sir Aguecheek, while her steward Malvolio pines for her. Meanwhile a shipwreck parts the two siblings Viola and Sebastian; both are saved but both think the other one’s dead. And Viola, in fear for her virtue on strange shores, disguises herself as a man.

In this disguise “Cesario” soon becomes the favorite servant of Orsino – only to fall in love with him. When he is sent to Olivia, she falls in love with “Cesario”. It takes a while until with the help of fate, the magic of the twelfth night of christmas and the not in the least foolish fool everything unravels and Orsino finds to Viola, Sebastian to Olivia.

Des McAnuff directed and made good use of his incredibly versatile cast – the fool for instance is played by Ben Carlson (one of the reasons I keep coming back to this festival) who to my honest surprise not only is playing a mean bass, but also the guitar and a mouth organ. And there we are in the middle of the magic of this particular adaption of Twelfth Night: There is an honest to god rock band on stage, dancing, playing, having the time of their lives obviously. Together with Stephen Ouimette and Brian Dennehy Ben Carlson does a canon on “Hold my piece” that is absolutely brilliant, and their rendition of “if music be the food of love, play on” is just as stunningly perfect.

Effortlessly they change the musical rhythm into something more medieval, only to get back to cheeful and fun as Olivia’s feelings for “Cesario” awaken. It is magic, happening on an almost empty stage (only once propped with a huge bar and a fridge hanging from the ceiling – which only sounds strange, but makes perfect sense in the course of the play). The costumes change from turn of the century to almost modern, to Hippie-seventies and it doesn’t bother you, it only enhances the performance. Not surprisingly the shows are almost sold out and the actors get standing ovations from an enchanted audience that obviously enjoys the early trip to a christmas celebration with  a little twist! Because the Twelfth Night of christmas was the last holiday in Shakespeare’s time, after which not only people had to go back to work again, it was (and still is) epiphany – where three wise men name the new king. Given that England was on the brink of the death of their Queen it also turns the play into a farewell to a long period of safety and unvarying prosper.

And just as Malvolio, bitterly mocked by Belch (and brilliantly played by Tom Rooney) says “I’ll be revenged by the whole pack of you” this is also an ominous foreboding – 40 years later the puritans under Cromwell will overthrow the british monarchy and close the theatres. It is with a little bit of sadness and bitterness the sweet love stories are consumed – and Belch is in more ways than one symbol of a fading order. But a little sadness has always enhanced a sweet story – as is the case with Twelfth Night.

By the way: Most of the music is composed by Des McAnuff, the director of the play. Also: You can buy the CD in the theatre store!

When I was a lot younger – and therefore had a lot more patience – I read the book Les Miserables. It was looooong and convoluted. (I’m not really a fan of french lit) The musical is just the same. The West End production is fantastic, the cast is great (with the exception of Cosette Lisa Anne Wood, whose soprano was rather shrill around the edges). And I didn’t even see Alfie Boe but his understudy, who also was very fabulous!

The true highlight tho was Thenardier – the Master of the House – brilliantly played by Matt Lucas, whose comic timing was never in doubt. But I didn’t realise he actually has a great voice. His performance saved the musical for me. Because the musical covered the whooole book (which I didn’t know) and even tho the music has its merits (otherwise it wouldn’t be on for 25 years and still is going strong) I admit – I am so not going to see that a second time.

Maybe it’s because the show covers what? 40 years worth of lives? Maybe because the characters are introduced and executed or shot in fast succession so you can never relate to them properly. Maybe I was just tired and I do get bored easily. Fact is – I really can’t see the overall hype about this musical.

What actually did make me smile were Simon Burke’s fun remarks in his brilliant one man show about the time when he was in Les Mis playing Marius. I finally understood his hilarious description of the dance steps in the show.

But overall  I have to admit that I am probably one of the very few people in the world who couldn’t care less about Les Mis…

I saw “Broken Glass” in its West End pre-run at the Tricycle Theatre in the outskirts of London. And (aside from two tedious taxi-trips I could have done without) that was the best decision. The intimacy of the tiny Theatre gave the play an added intensity, and me an almost voyeuristic pleasure in following the characters’ life for a too short 150 minutes. Arthur Miller places the story he wrote in ’94 in 1934, the dreadful dawn of the Nazi regime. But in truth the play is a timeless study about repression, desperation and forbidden love that drags four people into an abyss of guilt and disgust.

It is the story of  Sylvia Gellburg, who one day is no longer able to move her legs. From the waist down, she is paralysed. But even though it is Sylvia, who visibly suffers, it is in truth all about her husband Philipp. He adores her and loves the attention she draws when she is among friends. But he also can not cope with her being independent and joyful. He is rendered impotent in her presence – both figuratively and literally.

Dr Hyman soon figures out Sylvia’s passive aggressive response to a life in celibacy and her husband’s controlling, flaring temperament – but it is too late for him already: despite his very understanding wife suspecting he has fallen in love with her and she with him.The woman’s illness goes much deeper though. She is appalled by the news from Germany, where after Reichskristallnacht jews are made to scrub the sidewalks with toothbrushes – just to humiliate them. Being jewish herself, Sylvia is shocked and thrown out of her secure life, even more so as her son is in the Military. Philipp on the other hand mocks her fears and foreboding – he is desperately trying to fit into a society he perceives as more and more antisemitic and full of imagined slander against his religion.

But before feelings can complicate the situation even more, Philipp, up till then a very successful accountant, makes a wrong decision and costs his firm a promising deal. It doesn’t only cost him the faith of his employer, it also sends his temper into overdrive. Torn between his resentment of his birth and himself, his failure at his job and his helpless inability to have a normal and satisfying marriage with the woman  he adores, he finally confronts the most obvious “problem” – his boss. And has a heartattack.

As he dies at home in their marital bed he hasn’t been allowed in since his wife fell ill, Sylvia slowly rises from her wheelchair. His last words are “forgive me”.

It is a tense play, supposedly written as some sort of strange therapy, depicting Miller’s own failing marriage with Marilyn Monroe. I didn’t see it that way.

I saw a brilliant study of a jewish couple in an increasingly antisemitic, hostile world, dealing with their attempts to leave lives they hated.

And it was especially Sir Antony Sher’s Philipp that elevated the play from performance to brilliant character study. Sher turned the repressed, self hating accountant into a really pityful character – and yet me and the rest of the audience couldn’t help but feel for this unfortunate man. Sir Antony Sher dominated the stage, his charisma drawing you into a play about lives falling apart – just as the painting on the walls on the minimalist stage blister and peel off. The way he turns from loving husband to hate filled antisemite to raging liar when confronted by his doctor (Stanley Townsend and equally very good) is a fantastic how-to of developing a character before a mesmerised audience.

The play will come to the Vaudeville Theatre in September. If you have any chance, go and see it. It’s so worth it.

Oh – and last, but not least: thank you, dearest Beverley, for pointing out your “other man” to me. You are right, he IS brilliant and I am so lucky to have seen him!

So this is going to be a short one, I think.

First of all – Jude Law is in it. And for the first 10 or so minutes he’s shirtless and wet and proves that if you have a lot of time, you can chisel your body like a statue. Yes, he looks that good even with a hideous beard that covers more than half his face – but that is easily compensated with  a lot of eye rolling and grimacing.

Second: Ruth Wilson is in it. She was the femme fatale in “Luther” and she’s even better on stage. The way she effortlessly changes her personality from the truth to her father’s perception of her is truly awe inspiring.

Third: The play – it is – even tho written bei Eugene O’Neill and awarded with a Pulitzer prize and we are all in awe already – a clunker. The two huge metaphorical elephants in the room nowadays are merely mice at best and that makes it hard to even “get” the tragical events that ensue. So Anna was a prostitute to get by. In Austria a prostitute just wrote a bestseller and married a surgeon. There’s no reason why the father should be eaten by guilt and the would be husband repulsed only to come back two days later to grovel at her feet. And a propos grovelling: everything that goes wrong – the father always blames it on “the old devil sea” – and after a while even the very friendly audience of the Donmar only laughs at his accusation.

There is a moment in the play where I was hoping for a turn-around – the father brings a gun from his last drinking binge. Anna takes it and threatens Mat with it. And then the revolver falls to the ground and lies there, a third metaphorical elephant, plainly visible for everyone, an ominous black thing on an otherwise almost empty stage and we wait… and wait… they both enrolled on the same ship… and wait…

… and then there are the bows and my wonderfully theatre crazy neighbour muttered: I waited for the shooting!!!

Me, too!

Both the father and Mat use heavy accents during the play – I have no idea if that was O’Neill’s idea or this directors, but it made understanding Chris Christopherson rather hard at first . They peter off after Law’s Mat is introduced into the mix, though. The play itself was written in 1921 and centered around the father at first, was even called Chris in the tryouts, until it was introduced on Broadway in ’23 under Anna Christie and with the new focus on prostitute Anna. It might have been an eye opener then, it’s outdated and thematically irrelevant now (even more so when compared to  the Donmar’s last producton, Luise Miller, Schiller’s 1784 written play about corruption and the impossibility of love). That said: the actors are outstanding – even though sometimes hamming it up (yes, Jude, I’m talking to you) – and try their best – alas they have to fail because of the play’s content. I really loved Ruth Wilson – she was brilliant. Even in comparison to an icon – Greta Garbo, who played the part in the ’31 movie adaption – which was the first speaking part for the great Garbo.