Play: A Taste of Honey

Well, I finally got to A Taste of Honey, eh? It was sold out last week, and I would've gone last night, except the only tickets left were £50 each. Plus booking fee. Which wouldn't stop me in some cases, but for a 50s kitchen sink drama, I didn't fancy it. Well, there were two cheaper tickets available for tonight, and I took the more central of them.

Left in decent time for town, and, just to be sure, took the first train to pass through West Brompton, even though it wasn't going my way - but they all stop at Earl's Court, and you can change.. and the next heading into town from West Brompton wasn't for another six minutes, so I said, surely I'll save time by taking this one and changing. And I do believe I did, as I wasn't at Earl's Court long before one came along heading the right way.

I managed to get a seat. And then I heard a persistent "mouw, mouw".. Could there be a cat on the train? Indeed there was. First I've come across! (on a train). In a carrier, positioned across from a couple who were doing their very best to placate it, but puss was having none of it. "Mouw, mouw, mouw". Very unhappy-sounding cat, despite her trying to play with it. Anyway, they all got off at Victoria.

My trip to the National Theatre was unusually trouble-free - I had left in good time for once, and actually had no trouble finding where I was supposed to go. Gee, could I finally be getting used to the place?! I don't think there are any really bad seats here - certainly, mine was central enough to the row to keep me happy, and I didn't feel too far from the stage (I was about a third of the way along the row, about halfway up the circle).

A kitchen sink drama it is, revolutionary for its time, about a teenage girl with a positively frightful mother, who regularly neglects her to be with her male friends. Unsurprising, then, that when the daughter finds someone who shows her some affection, she jumps at it, and soon finds herself pregnant. The father, a sailor, has sailed off into the sunset - neither can she rely on her feckless mother, who has remarried; that turns out not to be such a great decision either.

It's quite an old story, but it's well told, the script is excellent, and I enjoyed it. The mother disappears for the first part of the second act, and it is only when she makes an unwelcome return that we realise what a malign influence she is. It's interesting, because you can just sense the breath of promise that the future holds in this play. A promise that the mother threatens to stifle. On a whole number of levels, I can see why this was shocking in the 50s. Still popular today, obviously. Runs until 11 May - booking advisable, especially if you want a cheap-ish seat. Limited availability for the rest of this month, and getting busy for April as well.

And tomorrow night, I'm off to The One, at the Soho Theatre. Which sounds good. I must leave in time for that one, though - it's another place I'm always rushing for, and a couple of times I've been late for the show. And that's mostly down to having to push my way through crowds in the West End.. it's a 10-minute walk from Leicester Square, not accounting for lost tourists you have to dodge!