Afraid of the Dark

So, Laura and I went to see Afraid of the Dark tonight, at the Charing Cross Theatre on Villiers Street. Villiers Street, of course, has a couple of advantages over some other venues. It's handy for getting home - on the District Line, convenient for both of us, and also has plenty of eateries. We decided to eat in Café Rouge, at the top of the street, where we've both eaten before.

It was busy, but they managed to seat us, and service was friendly throughout. If rather slow, which I guess was a consequence of how busy they were. The last couple of times I ate here, I went for beef bourguignon, so I decided on a modification tonight and went for steak. Laura had mussels, which arrived (eventually) in a rather enormous and roasting hot pot. My steak, for some reason, was less hot, as though it had been left sitting. Still, it was very tasty, with a lovely pepper sauce. With the combination of a short amount of time and very slow service, we didn't have time for starter or dessert, sadly - this is the place I remember that does the dessert that tastes exactly like a Penguin chocolate biscuit.

Anyway, we headed for the theatre, whose location I vaguely remembered as being in the passageway under the railway arches with other businesses. I was right. We had booked cheap tickets through Living Social, separately, and been allocated separate seats. We asked whether we could sit together, and were told that Row M was, at that stage, completely empty, and we should go there - we could move if necessary. It turned out not to be necessary, and thus we ended up several rows further forward than we should've been. Nice one..

This play came with a lot of hype - always a bad sign. So I wasn't expecting much. Having said that, the opening half, in particular, was promising, with some classic horror touches, excellent lighting and sound effects, and, eh, audience participation. The main problem was that the story fell completely apart as the play wore on, and fizzled out towards the end. I do wonder whether this (anonymous) playwright just couldn't think of a decent ending. Can happen to the best of us, y'know. All in all, enjoyable, watchable, but not unmissable. And I think those with heart conditions can, by and large, feel safe in watching this. Contrary to what the advertising says. Runs until October 26.

I'm thinking of films for the next while. For tomorrow, it's looking like Winter of Discontent, a political thriller set in Cairo and showing in the Institute for Contemporary Arts. For Saturday, I've booked a ticket for Alice Walker: Beauty in Truth, showing at the British Film Institute, because it was already half sold out, and for Monday, I've booked an Indian film called Jadoo, because it's showing in Cineworld, and, having registered on the site, I get a discount for booking. Honestly, I can't remember when so many new films were released in one week..

Opera: Wozzeck

Well, I made it in time that I didn't have a heart attack climbing all the way to the balcony of the Coliseum, for tonight's performance of Wozzeck. Handy that the Tube disruptions this weekend only apply westbound from my station, not eastbound into town.

So, this is the view from my seat. Very good seat for the money, gorgeous building and ample opportunity, from the balcony, to see the detail of the ceiling, all that marble and gilt. Lovely. And, as you can see from the bald head in the photo, which was taken from a seated position, the rake is steep enough that people in front of you don't really spoil the view.

But oh my, did I regret coming to this opera. Which is a shame, because I love coming here. Having lasted until the end (there was no interval), I think the problem is, it's too bleak. Now, I can do bleak. Have done many bleak plays. But you see, when opera does bleak, it does it operatically. In other words, it goes completely over the top. Now, this worked in the section of the opera where our (anti-)hero, Wozzeck, is going around murdering people. That scene suited the simplistic dialogue, and the raucous, tuneless cacophony that the orchestra produced. Unfortunately, the whole blasted opera was like that. And what was with the plot in the first part, with a whole conversation about the correct way of cutting hair, and a doctor who seemed to be performing bizarre medical experiments on Wozzeck?! No wonder he went bonkers. I'm sorry, this had nothing going for it. Except the set design, that was interesting and worked well. Ugh. Avoid, unless you're an absolute opera fanatic.

Peckish afterwards, I headed for Villiers Street, where I know there are many restaurants - although I've tried the Indian and don't recommend it. This time, I headed for Café Rouge, at the top of the street. This is a decent chain, which I ate in the last time I was in Gatwick airport. And they were showing the Eurovision song contest final, which was nice - with the sound down, which is probably wise. I can recommend their garlic mushrooms - they come with a lot of sauce, and some pastry, unusually, and are divine. The house white is drinkable, the beef bourgignon, sadly, was a tad tasteless. I adore their chocolate ganache dessert though, which tastes exactly like McVitie's Penguin biscuits.

Speaking of the Eurovision, I watched the end when I got home. Never heard Graham Norton commentating before, as I've always watched it in Ireland. Jeez, he is hilarious.. but then, many Irish with access to BBC do watch his commentary, in preference. I might have, but we didn't have BBC.. I see we came last. :-( Well, I'm sorry, but I did say that song was s**t. And well done to the UK for getting a respectable placing. With Denmark following Sweden's lead last year in winning, it seems to be the Nordic era. Can't say I thought much of the song, though.

Heading to a play called "Mess" in the Battersea Arts Centre on Monday. It's about anorexia, apparently, but quite entertaining, they do say.