Uhh.. was tired all today, after the shenanigans again last night, flying back with Ryanair. Having said that, they were an hour earlier than last time.. we actually left at midnight, which was most impressive! I thought we'd just keep getting later and later. Anyway, our bags miraculously got there slightly after we did - the National Express ticket machine at Arrivals was broken though, and with the queue at the ticket desk, I decided to queue and buy from the roving agents. A very wise move, as it turned out, and I made the 2.30am bus, so was home 90 minutes earlier than last time. Mind you, I had trouble sleeping with the heat - it's much cooler in Ireland..
So, today was not one of my brighter days. Starting two weeks of plays(!), tonight, Anthony's Cultural Events and Walking Activities Group was off to Westferry Circus again, for The Importance of Being Earnest. I RSVPed for that.. but then London Dramatic Arts announced that they were off to see One for Sorrow, at the Royal Court. They cleverly left the announcement until the theatre had sold out for today - I guess there was an offer. So they were the only place I could get a ticket, and I did - probably at a slightly higher price than the theatre charged. Anyway, better than sitting on the grass, in the heat. Happily, my last meeting got finished in time for me to grab a bite to eat, given that the play started a bit later than average: another advantage of choosing this over Westferry Circus!
I was on the Tube again, of course - lucky enough to get a seat on both lines, and oh, such blissful aircon on the District Line! Arrived at the theatre box office at the same time as a rather harassed organiser - seems she's really snowed under at work. Anyway, they have a bar in the alleyway these days, which seemed more attractive than heading to the basement, considering we'd have to head upstairs for the play.. however, since they were closing at around the time that Pity started in the main house, the basement bar was where we ended up. Took our drinks upstairs in plastic - and I thought we'd never get there! The Jerwood Theatre must be in the attic of the Royal Court - we must have climbed at least five stories from the basement. I stopped halfway to read the cast list, so got my breath back and made it alive. Feeling a bit chesty again these days.
With open seating, they forgot to save me a seat, but I ended up just behind them - we had another couple in the back. Some famous faces there tonight too, apparently - more common here than in the main house. The seats weren't the most comfortable, I have to say, and I'm afraid I wriggled a bit, probably to the annoyance of those behind me. A bit stuffy too. One point of annoyance with the play itself I'll state right here - the lights are a bit blinding as you come in, and kind of pulsing - if you shade your eyes with your hands, you can make out a set that comprises a living room with dining area, where the entire play is set. But the lights are very annoying, as are the flashes that mark a scene change.
As the organiser remarked when I mentioned it, it is probably meant to unnerve us - certainly, the complete darkness before the start of each act does, which lasts for some time, punctuated by whispering that previews what's going to happen in that act. The first act is also preceded by the sounds of explosions, screams and gunfire - goes on for ages, and is not recommended for those of a nervous nature. I found it more comfortable to close my eyes for this bit. Set in London, the play tells the story of some kind of attack (perhaps terrorist) and its immediate aftermath. (So, two explosive plays running in the same building at the moment!)
The first act opens with a family - middle-aged couple and two intelligent, well-educated, and feisty young daughters, one at secondary school, the other at college, and both highly opinionated. An argument is in full flight - dinner has been abandoned, and sits there on the table for the entire play. The elder daughter, you see, anxious to do something in the face of the atrocities happening outside, with chaos reigning and the death toll rising rapidly, has taken such action as she knew how to do. She's tagged their house online as being "open" - i.e. they are willing to give refuge to anyone who feels they need it tonight. Her parents are predictably furious, and the ensuing argument is actually hilarious, as idealistic youth tries to trump the older generation. Little sis agrees with her, of course, and just wants to get out into the action. Surprise, surprise, they get a response to the message, and soon a young man is pounding on the door.
He's a personable young chap, as it happens, and most articulate, as is pointed out. He's a PhD student - in mechanical engineering. Makes robots. And he's brown-skinned. He also has a strange reluctance to take off his coat - they put this down to shock. He certainly gives the appearance of it when he comes in, all dusty from the explosions. This is where the play really took off for me, as he engages the whole family in argument, challenging their cosily held, politically correct assumptions. And as the night wears on, and tensions rise, their world begins to crumble around them.
With really clever, quick-fire dialogue through most of the play, I was highly engaged. As I remarked to one of the group, I love to see smug people getting told off! Unfortunately, the last 10 minutes or so don't really gel with the rest, as - well, we weren't quite sure what happened! Either there's a massive plot twist or the thing just goes completely off the rails. I'm going for the plot twist - but we needed a bit more to support that. As someone mused afterwards, it smacked of something that got finished in a hurry - which is a shame, as it could have been memorable. Still enjoyable though - runs until Saturday, with mostly limited availability; it is a small theatre, and was mostly full tonight, too.
At the interval, I hadn't fancied traipsing all the way down, only to drag myself upstairs again. So I stayed where I was - those who did go down took the lift back, wisely! Afterwards, nobody really fancied staying in the basement bar, so we hung around outside - à la Up in the Cheap Seats (UITCS)! Happily, tonight someone did suggest that, if we were going to hang around chatting, we should do it over a drink - so we schlepped next door to Colbert, where they could have done with aircon! Anyway, they found us a booth down the back, and served us some tap water, some moreish frites, and some excellent wine, while we chatted about all sorts. A good evening was had all around - and I took the bus back, traffic being lighter now. Again, I have to marvel at the cute departure boards they have at bus stops around Sloane Square! Worth taking the bus just for those.
The rest of this week, as it happens, is with UITCS. Tomorrow, they're off to When Midnight Strikes, Upstairs at the Gatehouse. I guess I'll be on the Tube again, what with evening meetings.
On Wednesday, London Literary Walks was supposed to be back with "Brook Green" - another area near where I used to live! Actually, the first medical practice that I registered with, in London. Nice nurse - one very narky doctor. Sadly, he then cancelled - I don't know why, as his comment on the page disappeared with the page when he cancelled the event! Unfortunately, I'm now booked up for the rest of the Wednesdays in the month, too. Instead, this Wednesday, I'm off to Allelujah at the Bridge Theatre. Well, at least it's closer. Funnily enough, I accidentally nearly booked for the matinee of this - and there was better availability for the evening performance! Odd..
On Thursday, we're back to the Camden Fringe, with How to Be a Londoner in an Hour, at the Hen & Chickens Theatre. Then I'm down to Helen's for the weekend, for a party..
Next Monday, back with Anthony's Cultural Events and Walking Activities Group, back to Westferry Circus.. this time it's for A Woman of No Importance.
On the 14th, with nothing on Meetup that I was interested in (and hadn't done), I'm headed with my £3.60 club to a play called Faith & Heresy, at The Bread & Roses in Clapham.
On the 15th - sorry, London Literary Walks, you didn't advertise early enough! Instead, I'm off with North London Friends for Things of Dry Hours, at the Young Vic.
On the 16th, I'm headed to Soho Theatre for The One. Then back to Ireland for the weekend, again.
On the 20th, I'm going with UITCS to the Arcola, for Elephant Steps.
On the 21st, the £3.60 club is providing me with a ticket to see Aprile Millo perform at Cadogan Hall. Gotta say, terrific value for something whose official prices start at £35!
And on the 22nd, again, missing out on London Literary Walks - instead, off with UITCS to the Camden Fringe. We're seeing Secondhand Stories and Whimsy, two short plays at The Lion and Unicorn.
Showing posts with label Colbert. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Colbert. Show all posts
Monday, 6 August 2018
Tuesday, 2 May 2017
Play: The Ferryman
Hey! It's May! Sunshine (mostly), slightly warmer, rain but not much. And I spent most of the weekend fielding queries from my mother, along the lines of: "It's not a bank holiday on Monday? I was SURE it was a bank holiday on Monday. <so-and-so> said it was a bank holiday on Monday.." Well, I held to my guns that no, it wasn't, and duly flew back on Sunday night.
See, it was indeed a bank holiday on Monday (yesterday), and given that I was in Ireland for the weekend, I should have stayed over. But I'd already booked The Ferryman for last night, and didn't want to miss it - I think what happened was that, when I booked it, I thought I'd be in London this past weekend. Then Easter came along and fecked up my schedule, so I ended up in Ireland. Now, I could have taken a lunchtime flight back yesterday - but the last time I did that, Aer Lingus blithely cancelled it and put me on the evening flight instead, so I missed my play anyway. Not happening this time!
I swung by the office beforehand anyway - they have free WiFi, plus I needed to Skype my mother from there - I Skype her every weekday, and needed to be in the office for it, after all that hoo-ha about me "having to be in the office" yesterday. And lookee, they had wine in the fridge again! And my, but it was nice. So I ended up drinking far too much of it before I headed out.
The Royal Court, so I hopped on the bus again. And when i got there, some confusion - because someone had posted on the London Dramatic Arts (LDAM) event page that he was there already, with a drink, at a small circular table. I ran into another group member at the entrance, but we couldn't find him, so we just took a nearby table, and when she said she was ordering a cheeseburger, so did I. And a wine. And just as it arrived, so did the organiser - typically late - and had a table booked at the back. So we all schlepped up there - it wasn't big enough for us all, but the others got a table nearby. And that cheeseburger was delish - although another group member, inspired by my recommendation, ordered one and found it greasy. But this is the same person that went vegan for Lent, so.. each to their own.
To be fair, I had a great seat, in the fourth row. And this helped, because it's quite a long show.. although enjoyable throughout. Set during the Troubles, in Armagh, 1981, we start with a tense scene on a city street somewhere - probably Derry. A priest is meeting with some hard men - the body of a man, missing for years, has been found. And this all rings very true - South Armagh has long been known for nationalist violence, and there are still many missing people from the Troubles, whose bodies are probably buried in bogs around the country.
Soon, however, the backdrop lifts, and we find ourselves in the large kitchen of the Carney farm (pictured), where we will spend the rest of the play. And it needs to be a large one, for the traditionally large, multi-generational family they have. And these characters, for the next three hours and more, might be said to take us on a whistle-stop tour of the Troubles. The older members of the family might be said to represent the older Ireland - Aunt Pat, for instance, whose brother fought in 1916, and who hushes everybody so that she can listen to "that bitch", Thatcher, on the radio - at the time during which the play is set, the hunger strikes are in full swing, and hatred of Britain is at a highpoint. But there's also "far-away" Aunt Maggie, who spends most of the play in a wheelchair, gazing wistfully into the distance. She's the one who warns us about banshees, and in the end, she's the only one who can hear them.
Those hard man show up again, representing the modern face of nationalism - and it seems that the family patriarch, Quinn, had business with them once - now devoting himself to hearth and home. His wife, Mary, is hardly seen for much of the play - the mother of several children, she seems to have lost her spirit, languishing upstairs (and a very long staircase it is, too) under the influence of some virus or other, appearing every now and again, frail in a nightie. Instead, busying herself around the kitchen, we have his sister-in-law, Caitlyn, a victim of the Troubles: her husband (Quinn's brother) is the one they found in the bog, and he disappeared when her son, Oisin, was just four years old. Now, 10 years later, Oisin has grown into a troubled young man, seeking a place for himself in this family to which he only belongs on the periphery. We have a group of young hotheads, in fact - various cousins, but with differing attitudes to the discovery of this man's body. Completing this large cast of characters is the gormless Englishman, Tom Kettle, who came to them as a homeless youth, and hasn't improved his knowledge much since. He loves the place and the people, but ultimately ends up doing more harm than he ever intended.
Whew! That's a lot of archetypes, a lot of characters to keep track of, and a lot of action. No wonder it's such a long play. Indeed, we agreed afterwards that we didn't feel the time passing, that it was engaging enough. It's perfectly acted - they even manage to integrate a (real) baby in the Carney family, and a live goose makes an appearance at one point! (I assume that's not the same one that appears, butchered, later.) A poor, startled-looking bunny makes a number of appearances from the inside pocket of Tom Kettle's jacket - he's good with animals.
The characters are believable, the plot rings true, and in this kitchen - the centre of the household - we have a forum for all the goings-on to come; we don't need to step outside it any more. It, and our cast, are large enough to encompass a whole saga of history and to predict what is coming. And it packs a punch - we see life and death in this kitchen, lit candles provide atmosphere, and we even have the ominous wailing of banshees towards the end. A powerful and memorable production, and the whole audience leapt up in a standing ovation at the end. Runs until the 20th, but completely sold out - do go see it if you get a chance.
Afterwards, a few of us stayed on for drinks - but our organiser, too stressed to eat beforehand, was now hungry, and the kitchen was closed. So we schlepped next door to Colbert - a posh-looking French establishment that I've never before visited. It was now past 11, and their kitchen was closed too - but they let us have cold meats, bread, and wine, which they serve till 11:45. I had one of the mini-baguettes - pleasantly warm, and very moreish, spread with the butter that comes in little pots on the table. And the wine was lovely, served straight from the bottle, into pretty glass goblets. Not the cheapest, for sure, but I suspect that dinner here - which was suggested by one of us for a future occasion - would be a delightful experience.
It was nearly midnight by the time we left, and I had great fun on the phone to my mother as I waited for my bus back, trying to persuade her that I hadn't drunk so very much, and that yes, of course I was at home! (It was very noisy.) Should be an earlier one tonight; London Speaks Sessions, LDN Talks @ Night, and London for a Tenner or Less have advertised a talk called Origin of Vampires: Fact or Fiction? Too late to cancel now, if I wanted to - which I don't, this sounds fascinating.
Tomorrow, London Literary Walks is off around Gloucester Road.
On Thursday, Let's Do London - for less! is off on its last scheduled trip to the opera house - the occasion is Mayerling, my favourite ballet, and is sold out by now, I see. We have tickets in both slips and amphitheatre, as usual. The clock is counting down on remaining Meetups for this most excellent group - we're already feeling the pinch of its events being scheduled less frequently. There isn't another group out there like this man's. May the hiatus be brief.
On Friday, I'd bought a ticket to Nell Gwynn, at the Globe - then it turned out that LDAM is going on the same night! (Buy Your Own Ticket.) As the organiser said, it must be fate.. it'll certainly be nice to have company. Odd venue for them, though - I know the organiser doesn't like it.
And on Saturday, I'm joining the London European Club for a classical concert at the Royal Festival Hall. Oh joy, they're playing Beethoven's 9th. LDAM has a double-bill that day, in the Arcola, but it wouldn't be convenient, and I'm not that pushed anyway.
See, it was indeed a bank holiday on Monday (yesterday), and given that I was in Ireland for the weekend, I should have stayed over. But I'd already booked The Ferryman for last night, and didn't want to miss it - I think what happened was that, when I booked it, I thought I'd be in London this past weekend. Then Easter came along and fecked up my schedule, so I ended up in Ireland. Now, I could have taken a lunchtime flight back yesterday - but the last time I did that, Aer Lingus blithely cancelled it and put me on the evening flight instead, so I missed my play anyway. Not happening this time!
I swung by the office beforehand anyway - they have free WiFi, plus I needed to Skype my mother from there - I Skype her every weekday, and needed to be in the office for it, after all that hoo-ha about me "having to be in the office" yesterday. And lookee, they had wine in the fridge again! And my, but it was nice. So I ended up drinking far too much of it before I headed out.
The Royal Court, so I hopped on the bus again. And when i got there, some confusion - because someone had posted on the London Dramatic Arts (LDAM) event page that he was there already, with a drink, at a small circular table. I ran into another group member at the entrance, but we couldn't find him, so we just took a nearby table, and when she said she was ordering a cheeseburger, so did I. And a wine. And just as it arrived, so did the organiser - typically late - and had a table booked at the back. So we all schlepped up there - it wasn't big enough for us all, but the others got a table nearby. And that cheeseburger was delish - although another group member, inspired by my recommendation, ordered one and found it greasy. But this is the same person that went vegan for Lent, so.. each to their own.
To be fair, I had a great seat, in the fourth row. And this helped, because it's quite a long show.. although enjoyable throughout. Set during the Troubles, in Armagh, 1981, we start with a tense scene on a city street somewhere - probably Derry. A priest is meeting with some hard men - the body of a man, missing for years, has been found. And this all rings very true - South Armagh has long been known for nationalist violence, and there are still many missing people from the Troubles, whose bodies are probably buried in bogs around the country.
Soon, however, the backdrop lifts, and we find ourselves in the large kitchen of the Carney farm (pictured), where we will spend the rest of the play. And it needs to be a large one, for the traditionally large, multi-generational family they have. And these characters, for the next three hours and more, might be said to take us on a whistle-stop tour of the Troubles. The older members of the family might be said to represent the older Ireland - Aunt Pat, for instance, whose brother fought in 1916, and who hushes everybody so that she can listen to "that bitch", Thatcher, on the radio - at the time during which the play is set, the hunger strikes are in full swing, and hatred of Britain is at a highpoint. But there's also "far-away" Aunt Maggie, who spends most of the play in a wheelchair, gazing wistfully into the distance. She's the one who warns us about banshees, and in the end, she's the only one who can hear them.
Those hard man show up again, representing the modern face of nationalism - and it seems that the family patriarch, Quinn, had business with them once - now devoting himself to hearth and home. His wife, Mary, is hardly seen for much of the play - the mother of several children, she seems to have lost her spirit, languishing upstairs (and a very long staircase it is, too) under the influence of some virus or other, appearing every now and again, frail in a nightie. Instead, busying herself around the kitchen, we have his sister-in-law, Caitlyn, a victim of the Troubles: her husband (Quinn's brother) is the one they found in the bog, and he disappeared when her son, Oisin, was just four years old. Now, 10 years later, Oisin has grown into a troubled young man, seeking a place for himself in this family to which he only belongs on the periphery. We have a group of young hotheads, in fact - various cousins, but with differing attitudes to the discovery of this man's body. Completing this large cast of characters is the gormless Englishman, Tom Kettle, who came to them as a homeless youth, and hasn't improved his knowledge much since. He loves the place and the people, but ultimately ends up doing more harm than he ever intended.
Whew! That's a lot of archetypes, a lot of characters to keep track of, and a lot of action. No wonder it's such a long play. Indeed, we agreed afterwards that we didn't feel the time passing, that it was engaging enough. It's perfectly acted - they even manage to integrate a (real) baby in the Carney family, and a live goose makes an appearance at one point! (I assume that's not the same one that appears, butchered, later.) A poor, startled-looking bunny makes a number of appearances from the inside pocket of Tom Kettle's jacket - he's good with animals.
The characters are believable, the plot rings true, and in this kitchen - the centre of the household - we have a forum for all the goings-on to come; we don't need to step outside it any more. It, and our cast, are large enough to encompass a whole saga of history and to predict what is coming. And it packs a punch - we see life and death in this kitchen, lit candles provide atmosphere, and we even have the ominous wailing of banshees towards the end. A powerful and memorable production, and the whole audience leapt up in a standing ovation at the end. Runs until the 20th, but completely sold out - do go see it if you get a chance.
Afterwards, a few of us stayed on for drinks - but our organiser, too stressed to eat beforehand, was now hungry, and the kitchen was closed. So we schlepped next door to Colbert - a posh-looking French establishment that I've never before visited. It was now past 11, and their kitchen was closed too - but they let us have cold meats, bread, and wine, which they serve till 11:45. I had one of the mini-baguettes - pleasantly warm, and very moreish, spread with the butter that comes in little pots on the table. And the wine was lovely, served straight from the bottle, into pretty glass goblets. Not the cheapest, for sure, but I suspect that dinner here - which was suggested by one of us for a future occasion - would be a delightful experience.
It was nearly midnight by the time we left, and I had great fun on the phone to my mother as I waited for my bus back, trying to persuade her that I hadn't drunk so very much, and that yes, of course I was at home! (It was very noisy.) Should be an earlier one tonight; London Speaks Sessions, LDN Talks @ Night, and London for a Tenner or Less have advertised a talk called Origin of Vampires: Fact or Fiction? Too late to cancel now, if I wanted to - which I don't, this sounds fascinating.
Tomorrow, London Literary Walks is off around Gloucester Road.
On Thursday, Let's Do London - for less! is off on its last scheduled trip to the opera house - the occasion is Mayerling, my favourite ballet, and is sold out by now, I see. We have tickets in both slips and amphitheatre, as usual. The clock is counting down on remaining Meetups for this most excellent group - we're already feeling the pinch of its events being scheduled less frequently. There isn't another group out there like this man's. May the hiatus be brief.
On Friday, I'd bought a ticket to Nell Gwynn, at the Globe - then it turned out that LDAM is going on the same night! (Buy Your Own Ticket.) As the organiser said, it must be fate.. it'll certainly be nice to have company. Odd venue for them, though - I know the organiser doesn't like it.
And on Saturday, I'm joining the London European Club for a classical concert at the Royal Festival Hall. Oh joy, they're playing Beethoven's 9th. LDAM has a double-bill that day, in the Arcola, but it wouldn't be convenient, and I'm not that pushed anyway.
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