Yup, it happened again. Time Out's listings changed. I'm gonna have to move to Dalston, I think - tonight's play, The Nightmares of Carlos Fuentes, was on in the Arcola again! Hey, at least I know the way..
So, I didn't even have to look up the time to leave at - I knew I had to catch the 6.20 Overground from West Brompton. Which I did, just managing to squeeze on. Yes, it was another sweaty journey. At, I think, Kensington Olympia, someone got on whom I recognised - let's call him the Overground oddball. This is a tall-ish black man, who gets onto the front carriage of the Stratford-bound Overground that passes through Kensington Olympia at about 6.25pm on weekdays, wearing a pale-coloured, short-sleeved, check shirt and one of those sleeveless jackets with all the pockets, and carrying a plastic Waitrose bag. If he can't get a seat - likely at this hour - he proceeds to hang off the overhead bars on both sides of the carriage, thus taking up more space than he should (one hand on each bar). And he's talking and singing to himself. And then he starts rocking violently, back and forth. He was on the train last week as well, but I wasn't near him - this evening, I was right beside him, which was great fun as I tried to avoid his rocking. Anyway, he gets more and more agitated until he gets a seat, then calms right down - apart from the odd muttering to himself. Someone offered him her seat this evening, which was a great relief to us all! The lady standing beside me had already moved down the carriage to stand somewhere else, as soon as there was a space.
Me, I didn't get a seat until near the end of my long journey, and a sweaty journey at that. At least there was some air after many passengers got off at Hampstead Heath. But what a relief it was to get off at last.. I was well in time for the play, and knew my way, although you come across the Arcola Bar first, and I nearly went in there; it's been a while since I was in the Arcola proper. I soon realised my mistake and went to the theatre door, where I queued to buy a ticket - this is nowhere near booking out. As we were queueing, the lady behind the counter asked whether anyone was waiting to collect a ticket for the Arcola Tent - they could collect it at the tent itself. One woman stepped forward, said she was. Off she went to the tent. Mind you, by the time I'd bought my ticket, she was back, irate: turns out she hadn't bought a ticket for the tent at all, thought that anyone collecting a ticket could get it there. Yes, well..
After a short wait, we were let into the auditorium. When I was choosing my ticket, she had advised me that, with only side seats available, I might do well to choose one near the corner - so I did. Mind you, it was tricky finding where the seat was! There are no floor markings for the different rows - you had better remember the seating arrangement from when you chose your seat! I figured mine should be in the far corner, and counted from the front to see which row was mine. I knew my seat was on the end. It was only after I took my seat that I noticed the teeny tiny labels on the seat frames, with the seat numbers on 'em. Challenging! We were also asked, when crossing to the other side of the stage, not to step on the carpet that covered part of the stage area. No such warnings seemed to apply when we were leaving - they didn't seem to mind us trampling all over their pale-coloured carpet then..
This is an interesting play. It's a series of snapshots from the life of Carlos Fuentes, an Iraqi immigrant to the UK. Scene by scene, more of his story is revealed to us - including why his name is Carlos Fuentes! And it behoves the audience to remain open-minded, because every single scene changes our perspective - the more so, because they jump backwards and forwards in time. A projection, high on the wall behind the stage, gives the month and year, among other things, and helps to keep us on track.
It starts out very funny - although, in the first scene, when they're looking for the key to let him out of the handcuffs he's wearing as part of a sex game, they really should've hidden that key better! I could see it for several minutes before they decided to find it. Things become more and more serious, however, as the play progresses. And maybe we're being shown how serious life is for Iraqis, and others in their situation, as opposed to the frivolity of life in Britain.
As I say, interesting. Runs until the 16th - plenty of seats available, if tonight was anything to go by. Warning - there are a few explosions, which might be disturbing to those of a nervous disposition.
Well, tomorrow night, courtesy of lovetheatre, I finally get to see Richard III, with Martin Freeman. Premium seat - and in the third row from the stage, which should be far enough back to avoid the blood that the website warns might splash on the audience. Though mind you, I'm unsure what they intend when they advise patrons to "dress appropriately" in those rows: plastic macs..?
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