Every now and again, London Dramatic Arts Meetup comes up with a cheaper ticket for a performance than I can get anywhere else. Which determines whether I'll go with them - frankly, I've had some bad experiences with them that have soured the group for me, somewhat. Well, I'm willing to give them a chance if they can get me a cheap ticket - which is why I ended up with them last night for The Flick, at the Dorfman (formerly the Cottesloe) in the National.
It was an early start, at 7, but I was fairy confident of making it unless I was delayed. I was delayed. Apparently, there'd been accidents all day, for some reason, and the effects were still being felt by the time I got away. On my way back into London, it became apparent that I wouldn't make it for the start, and I texted the organiser to ask that my ticket be left at the box office.
I was lucky enough with the train - I'd thought I wouldn't be in time for the next departure to Waterloo, at the other end of Clapham Junction, but hurried down there anyway, knowing that Platform 10 was the one with the most frequent departures. Lookee that - the train that was "due" was inexplicably delayed, and pulled in just after I got to the platform. No delay for me there, then. I knew my way to the National, and as I had remarked to my passenger on the way back in the car, at least when you know you're going to be late, and there's nothing to be done about it, it really takes the pressure off. I knew to pass to the other side of the National for the Dorfman, and strolled in at about 7:15.
The staff were attentive enough, and I was immediately asked whether I was there for The Flick, and directed to the ticket desk (right in front of me). Where there was some confusion, as only my first name had been written on the ticket. And I didn't know the organiser's married name. Well, but I did know her first name, and - ticket in hand - I made use of my spare time to go to the toilet.
When I came back, it was to take a seat in the foyer bar and wait to be called to take my seat in the theatre. There was a screen on which we could watch the performance, live - well, kind of. It was so small I could hardly make out anything that was happening, and the volume was so low, I could hardly hear anything. Particularly with the loud conversation of the bar staff. I eventually realised there were a couple of playtexts with which we could follow what was going on - but they were in use, so I sat there and waited. I do hate being late here - the facilities are dire.
In due course, we were assigned an usher each (sort of), and a couple of us with seats near the stage were told we couldn't take those seats until after the interval, and asked whether we'd mind sitting further back until then. Fair enough. Oh, but the palaver of getting us into the auditorium - really, did we have to wait for quite so long, our usher peeking around the door to see whether there was a break and she could hurry us in?! And when we made it, it was to plastic chairs that had been moved from the back wall, and were now positioned in a corner of the balcony: from which I could see about half the stage. At least the volume was better in here, but it was an inauspicious start. Sadly, I could see my vacant, front row seat from where I was watching.
It's set in a cinema, the stage filled with rows of tip-up seats, and the play centres around the bits in between films, when the staff come in to clean. When the lights come up after another brief period of darkness (that's when the film is on), little vignettes give us snippets of conversation among the staff. It's hard to get into a comedy after the start: people were laughing around me - I wasn't. I considered leaving - but something kept me there. See, it's a great premise for a play - the script contained exactly the sort of weird, rambling little chats you might have with people you vaguely know, in an environment such as a cinema with the lights up, when there's really nothing else to do.
As the play progressed, I started to relax into it. It's also a great play if you're at all into film - these characters patently are, and many of the conversations revolve around film - film connections, what can be considered a great film, and so on. There's a slight plot, but mainly the style was what impressed me - a nice, relaxed, easy, chatty style of conversation: quite funny, quite entertaining. Hey, and I had the best of both worlds, in a way - a bird's-eye view for the first act, when I could see the whole spread of the seats on stage, and for the second act I was up close, and could see the actors' expressions: particularly Sam's, which really helped (he has a great face for comedy, really expressive). Definitely recommended for anyone into film - runs until the 15th June, booking advisable; it's quite popular. Contains strobe lighting.
At the interval, I was out quickly and to the bar, securing a glass of wine - lucky, because it became impossible later, with the crowd. And after a while, I spotted members of my group, and could reassure them that yes, I had pretty much caught most of the play so far! We chatted pleasantly, but it's not a comfortable environment - the Dorfman bar is far too small, was terribly crowded, and the open door let in a freezing cold breeze (coat advised!). We'd just had about enough of it by the time the bell went for the second act, and we went in. At the end of the evening, they didn't want to go anywhere - this group generally don't, on a worknight. So I got home reasonably early - but you know, not all groups are so well behaved, and after the exertions of the night before, I was pretty tired: too much so to blog.
Tonight, the same group are off to Lawrence After Arabia, in Hampstead Theatre - I got cheaper from the theatre itself, so I'm going separately. (And oh, but it was a little uncomfortable as we were saying our farewells last night, and many of them were talking about how they'd be coming tonight.) They don't like people buying their own tickets, see. And what's worse, they still have one ticket available, at time of writing - so my branching out on my own would not be appreciated. Anyway, I have a seat upstairs, so it should be possible to avoid them - and, of course, having banned me from linking to this blog on their website, they're less likely to read the blog and find out what I'm doing. And I think I'll survive a night without them. Only thing is, the theatre doesn't do Print at Home, so I have to pick up the blasted ticket..
No comments:
Post a Comment