Play: Mr. Burns

I suppose that my primary motivation in going to Mr. Burns tonight was that I am a sometime Simpsons fan. Anyhoo, Time Out gave it a good review, and I managed to get one of the last three tickets - I chose the single seat, second row from the stage. As I was booking (with the venue - I found it impossible to get tickets anywhere else), I noted that they still had my Irish address! Gee, is it THAT long since I went to something in the Almeida?

I looked up directions on Google Maps. Fastest way is by Tube, but the most direct is to take the Overground - also cheaper, since you're not going through Zone 1. So that's what I determined to do. Leaving in good time, I arrived at the station at 6.30, for the 6.37 train. Only to see a train already at the platform. Now, they're never early - not that early, anyway - which meant that this was surely the 6.22! A bad sign, if it was delayed this much.. and I wasn't quite in time to make it, so had to depend on the 6.37 being on time. Luckily, it was, and despite a couple of hold-ups en-route, arrived pretty much on time at Highbury & Islington. And I'd even got a seat after just one stop!

From the station, hang a right and continue on the main road for about 10 minutes. By the time you get to Almeida Street, where the theatre is, you think you must be lost - but it's there, never fear. A large crowd blocked the pavement in front, spilling out from the bar next door. I entered the lobby. The box office, where I had to pick up my ticket, was to the right - but then I saw the queue for it. And followed it to the end. I couldn't believe it - I had never seen a queue this long for a box office! and this just for ticket collection. With the two-minute warning, then the one-minute warning, then the "performance starting" announcement, I worried that we wouldn't get our tickets in time. A good incentive to get there early - I arrived five minutes early, and there were people behind me.

I was tempted by the woman walking up and down the line, asking whether anyone wanted a free ticket - she had one to spare. It would have meant I'd have got my ticket faster, but I could see from the row number on the ticket that it was further back than mine. I decided to hold out - of course, despite their stern warnings, they didn't actually start until the queue was finished, and indeed not for some time after. And I quickly found my seat - at the end of the middle section of the second row from the front, it was a single seat, unusually for a theatre full of doubles, and that row also projected past the one in front, which meant there was actually no seat in front of me, and I had lots of leg room. (B17, for future reference).

This play has three acts - so two intervals - each act beginning and ending with a crash! and the lights being turned off suddenly. Not really a play during which you can drop off. In the first act, we are introduced to a small group of frightened survivors of some unspecified holocaust, huddled round a camp fire somewhere in the Northeast United States. They pass the time by remembering old Simpsons episodes. And like the other acts, this act mixes hilarity with deadly seriousness; I, for one, found it very shocking when a stranger approached - down the aisle beside me, you do need to keep feet and bags out of the way - and everyone onstage whipped out a gun, in a reflex action. My unease was heightened, I think, by the fact that I was so close to them, as well as that I knew there were to be gunshots at some point..

During the first interval, I bought an immensely overpriced, but very tasty, double chocolate ice cream, and politely nodded and smiled at the effusive, elderly, American-sounding woman sitting near me, who was obviously a Gilbert and Sullivan expert, and probably delighted that their music was also incorporated into the play. They incorporate a lot of popular music, both in the play and during the intervals.

Act 2 takes place seven years later, we're told by the helpful woman brandishing a board with this information chalked on it. By now, The Simpsons has become a way of making money - or something to barter with - in this post-electric world where no-one can watch tv any longer, so groups tour the country, re-enacting episodes. Again, hilarity mixes with deadly seriousness. There's a terrific routine of "greatest hits of the 00s", and a sense of desperation as these people try to eke out an existence, and one describes how it's gotten tougher out there.

And the final act? Defies description. This is the climax of the show, and the pinnacle of meaning of The Simpsons in this brave new world - Act 3 takes place 75 years after Act 2. You have never seen The Simpsons done like this! It's completely OTT, and completely mesmerising. As I walked back to the station afterwards, someone walking behind me was discussing with his companion the meaning of the play - how, in a world without meaning, cultural icons take on a new significance. Well, yes. Indeed.

It's also terrific fun, especially for lovers of The Simpsons. I can highly recommend this. Runs until the 26th - booking perhaps not absolutely necessary, but probably advisable.

For tomorrow, I've been looking for films again. Top of the list was Boyhood - a Richard Linklater project, where he takes Ethan Hawke and Patricia Arquette as the parents, and casts a six-year old boy. He then films a bit each year for the next 12 years, showing the little boy growing up. The little boy's sister is played by Linklater's real-life daughter. Really unusual, and supposed to be really good. Unfortunately, it's also really long, and not showing anywhere nearby. It's showing at venues about an hour away, but not until 8pm. So not feasible during the week, at least. Instead, I've booked to go the London Jewish Cultural Centre, of all places, where they're showing a documentary called The Lady in Number 6 - the world's oldest pianist and Holocaust survivor. On Wednesday, Nabeel has summoned us to a gathering for his birthday, and Thursday is the annual company barbeque. On Friday, I'm provisionally looking at heading to The Scoop in the evening - weather permitting, of course - where they're having a month of music. Apparently, the London Swing Dance Society is involved that evening.. and, as ever at The Scoop, it's free!