Well, well, I'm back! It's been a great couple of days. Nabeel's birthday was on Wednesday, we went for drinks after work and a v sociable time was had. Unfortunately, our meal plans were scuppered when the place we were heading for turned out to be closed for a private function, and our group separated into those who wanted to eat somewhere that the World Cup was being shown, and those who didn't. Me, I headed for my local Chinese. My, I'd forgotten how spicy their kung po chicken is! - it's been a while.
Yesterday was the annual company barbeque, where, again, a v sociable time was had (we're a sociable bunch, y'know!) Nabeel, as he said, was "taking his birthday on tour", (we were in Guildford), although that wasn't the reason for the barbeque. Not really. ;-) During the barbeque, I ended up on the winning team for the table quiz! for once..
Now, the initial plan for today was to head to The Scoop. That, though, was weather-dependant, and it rained pretty persistently all morning. Frankly, I was glad of it - I'd have had to leave straight from work, and getting across town at that time is horrendous - particularly at Westminster and on the Jubilee line. So I had a look at what else Time Out had to suggest. And was I delighted when they came up with The Crucible..
I love this story, although I've only ever seen the film, never the stage version. Written by Arthur Miller, it describes the Salem witch trials, but is an allegory of McCarthyism. It tells the compelling story of a group of teenage girls, found to have been up to all sorts of shenanigans in the woods at night: who, when confronted - terrified of the punishment they will receive - blame the whole thing on whatever scapegoats they can find, and call it witchcraft. In these superstitious times, the village elders are only too ready to believe them, and the story escalates to a series of witch trials. Serious stuff, considering the court has the power to condemn people to death - and all on the word of a group of hysterical girls. Caught up in the madness is John Proctor, who has the misfortune to have had a brief affair with one of them, who now seeks revenge on him for dumping her, and seems like to have it as his wife is accused of being a witch..
It's showing at the Old Vic, with Richard Armitage as John Proctor. No other website that I tried had availability, for today, at as good a price as the official website; I managed to get the last of the lower-priced seats in the stalls. There were also seats in the dress circle - none in the balcony, and no two together. Advance booking required, therefore, if this doesn't suit. The seat I got was the same price as the non-restricted view seats in the dress circle - so I decided, for that price, I might as well be in the stalls. Ended up in the very back row, but I've been here before and knew that wouldn't be an issue.
This is one of the easier theatres to find - Tube to Waterloo, exit the underground station, turn right, and it's at the other side of the crossroads. Ironically, this journey also involves changing for the Jubilee line at Westminster. Well, but I left late enough that the crowds had dissipated somewhat. Thankfully, however, I was early enough that it didn't matter that the ever-unreliable District line decided to stop several times for no apparent reason. When I turned out of the station, I did expect to see the theatre - turned out that my view of it was obscured somewhat by a large tree across from it! Trust me, it is there..
It was nice, for a change, not to have to climb the stairs. I headed straight for the stalls bar - there's a bar on each level. Cash only, it's a small operation - only two bartenders. A good amount of seating if you want to stay there, but the containers they provide are plastic, so you can take your drink into the theatre. They only provide wine in quantities of 125ml or 175ml. I had the fun of crossing the stage proper to get to my seat. Legroom is a bit snug in the back row, but the saving grace is the space between the step down to the next row and the seat backs - so there's quite a space into which you can let your leg drop. Both at a time, if you so wish! I did this constantly throughout this mammoth, 3.5hr show, which meant that, for once, I didn't get cramp.
The sense of dread that permeates the entire show is heightened by the constant, low-level, bass drone that plays for the whole evening - before and during the play, and during the interval. Smoke machines emit a stream of white smoke that shrouds the stage area - never so dense that you can't see through it, but it does lend a sinister aura. As the play begins, the stage - which is in the round - is filled with wooden chairs, all at different angles. As the Time Out review explains, the reason for the lengthy running time is partly the scenes without words - and as they also say, all this time does is to give the author's words the weight they deserve.
A good play is an absolute joy to behold, for anyone who loves language. A pared-down set like this allows the play to shine through. The direction is fantastic - the first scene is reminiscent of a Greek tragedy, with all characters silently filing on stage, dressed in sombre black and grey, to take a seat each, where they sit briefly before silently filing off again, chairs under their arms, leaving the stage bare for the commencement of the story proper.
And what a gripping story it is. Apart from faint numbness, you really don't feel the time pass. The acting is spellbinding, as is the story - all the better, I think, when you know what's coming. At the interval, I dithered a bit before deciding to go to the loo. Well, I didn't do too badly - but I was still at the end of a sizeable queue for the ladies. The gents, needless to say, had a much higher turnover. Advice - if you want to go, go straight away! Lots of foreigners at this, interestingly - a group of Russians were sitting near me in the stalls, and there were French people ahead of me in the toilet queue. I had plenty of time, as I waited, to stare at the enormous chandelier hanging in the toilet "lobby". Really, the whole place seemed very rough and ready, the seating just on a kind of wooden frame, the toilets made from portakabins - although fetchingly decorated with promotional posters from past and present productions! By the time I'd finished and exited the toilet, they were letting the ladies into the gents - with stewards stationed outside, to ensure that they didn't go at the same time, I guess. Well, the interval had to end eventually, so they had to do something.. toilets are closed while the performance is underway, BTW.
The second act ratchets up the excitement, as the trials get underway. This play pulls absolutely no punches - "visceral", they're describing it as, and they're right. In no way do they hold back, with girls throwing themselves around the stage in "witch-induced" fits. Indeed, you need to have some nerve to sit in the front row, with no separation from the stage. It's stunning to watch. The lighting is quietly effective, and the prison scenes moved me to tears. Similar production values, then, to Wolf Hall, currently playing across town, and set about 150 years before. By the time the play wound to its inevitable conclusion, we were dying to leap to our feet in a unanimous standing ovation. Hard work, sitting through so much raw emotion - but well worth it. Runs until 13 September.
For tomorrow - well, you'll never guess. I FINALLY got a (seated) ticket to Skylight, starring Carey Mulligan as the woman visited late one night, in her flat, by her older ex, Bill Nighy. Nearly 20 years old now, apparently some of the references are a bit dated, but it's getting great reviews. The only site with availability this early was LondonBoxOffice.co.uk. I got a stalls seat - again - in Row L, which, apparently, is just before the balcony overhang starts to impede the view from the stalls. Also, it seems that legroom is a bit tight in this row, so I'm glad that, of the two (separate) seats available, I chose the aisle.. and at only £17 over face value, it's not bad at all.
Friday, 11 July 2014
Tuesday, 8 July 2014
Film: The Lady in Number 6
I decided to go to The Lady in Number 6 tonight, because it sounded interesting and was highly rated on IMDB. I booked, because that was cheaper than paying at the door. And today, I spent ages looking up how to get to the London Jewish Cultural Centre to see it!
Google Maps offered two suggestions - I could get the Overground to Finchley Road & Frognal and get the #13 bus, or get the Overground to Hampstead Heath and get the #268. However, I soon realised that the #13 bus wouldn't get me there - I'd have to take the #268 in the end anyway. So Hampstead Heath it was - only one stop further on, anyway.
This time, I had to get the 6.22 - which, fortunately, was on time, unlike yesterday. I didn't get a seat until I was most of the way there, and didn't get a paper like yesterday, but never mind. I did get to stand under an air vent, which was nice, and read the Standard over someone's shoulder. Unfortunately, he wasn't interested in the same stories I was, and turned the pages far too quickly. Nuts.
It was raining by the time I disembarked at Hampstead Heath. Nuts again! I had a little bit of a walk to the bus stop - I'd looked it up carefully on Streetview, which is a blessing, so knew exactly where I was going. Left out of the station onto South End Road, right onto Pond Street, left at the lights onto Rosslyn Hill, bus stop across the road. I've been in Hampstead before, so I knew it was hilly. I'll say this - if I lived here, I'd be fitter. Virtually every road I travelled was uphill! Mercifully, the bus stop was covered, and also, conveniently, had an lcd display showing when the buses were due. I had five minutes to wait.
Now, I have yet another beef with Google Maps. They told me the name of the stop I had to get off at was Hampstead Way.. it isn't, it's named after the adjacent Golders Hill Park! (I've complained.) Luckily, I recognised where I was going - as we sped past it - from Streetview, got off at the next stop, and walked back (uphill).
And then something interesting happened. As I finally reached the top of the hill, and my destination, two men in suits emerged from the building. I think one might have been putting up a poster, the other handing out fliers. They stood there - I could see them as I approached. One - the one putting up the poster, presumably for this evening's event - was wearing a kippah. I suddenly felt very intimidated, and decided not to go in.
I have nothing against Judaism. I'd actually be very interested in learning more about it. But.. I wasn't here to do that. I have nothing to do with Judaism, nor was I accompanying someone who had. I wanted to see a good film - that's all. I didn't want to associate myself with a cultural or religious group, and what with the kippah, and also the fact that there were two of them.. just as cult members travel in pairs.. I felt that this was somewhere I didn't want to be.
So I walked on past. And I won't be back, unless to find out about something specifically Jewish. Crossed at the zebra crossing - there are lots of them in Hampstead - and made the bus stop on the other side just as the bus arrived! On my way back to the station, I stopped in at a Marks & Spencer Food Store - I should have food in already, I bought enough ready meals last night, but our fridge, it so happens, is on the fritz, and I had to dump them. So I bought some chicken escalopes with bbq sauce, which were quite nice. Oh, and I got both a seat, and a discarded paper, on the train back.
Tomorrow night is Nabeel's birthday celebration, Thursday the annual company barbeque. On Friday, I might head to The Scoop, where they're doing something with the London Swing Dance Society. Weather-dependant, of course!
Google Maps offered two suggestions - I could get the Overground to Finchley Road & Frognal and get the #13 bus, or get the Overground to Hampstead Heath and get the #268. However, I soon realised that the #13 bus wouldn't get me there - I'd have to take the #268 in the end anyway. So Hampstead Heath it was - only one stop further on, anyway.
This time, I had to get the 6.22 - which, fortunately, was on time, unlike yesterday. I didn't get a seat until I was most of the way there, and didn't get a paper like yesterday, but never mind. I did get to stand under an air vent, which was nice, and read the Standard over someone's shoulder. Unfortunately, he wasn't interested in the same stories I was, and turned the pages far too quickly. Nuts.
It was raining by the time I disembarked at Hampstead Heath. Nuts again! I had a little bit of a walk to the bus stop - I'd looked it up carefully on Streetview, which is a blessing, so knew exactly where I was going. Left out of the station onto South End Road, right onto Pond Street, left at the lights onto Rosslyn Hill, bus stop across the road. I've been in Hampstead before, so I knew it was hilly. I'll say this - if I lived here, I'd be fitter. Virtually every road I travelled was uphill! Mercifully, the bus stop was covered, and also, conveniently, had an lcd display showing when the buses were due. I had five minutes to wait.
Now, I have yet another beef with Google Maps. They told me the name of the stop I had to get off at was Hampstead Way.. it isn't, it's named after the adjacent Golders Hill Park! (I've complained.) Luckily, I recognised where I was going - as we sped past it - from Streetview, got off at the next stop, and walked back (uphill).
And then something interesting happened. As I finally reached the top of the hill, and my destination, two men in suits emerged from the building. I think one might have been putting up a poster, the other handing out fliers. They stood there - I could see them as I approached. One - the one putting up the poster, presumably for this evening's event - was wearing a kippah. I suddenly felt very intimidated, and decided not to go in.
I have nothing against Judaism. I'd actually be very interested in learning more about it. But.. I wasn't here to do that. I have nothing to do with Judaism, nor was I accompanying someone who had. I wanted to see a good film - that's all. I didn't want to associate myself with a cultural or religious group, and what with the kippah, and also the fact that there were two of them.. just as cult members travel in pairs.. I felt that this was somewhere I didn't want to be.
So I walked on past. And I won't be back, unless to find out about something specifically Jewish. Crossed at the zebra crossing - there are lots of them in Hampstead - and made the bus stop on the other side just as the bus arrived! On my way back to the station, I stopped in at a Marks & Spencer Food Store - I should have food in already, I bought enough ready meals last night, but our fridge, it so happens, is on the fritz, and I had to dump them. So I bought some chicken escalopes with bbq sauce, which were quite nice. Oh, and I got both a seat, and a discarded paper, on the train back.
Tomorrow night is Nabeel's birthday celebration, Thursday the annual company barbeque. On Friday, I might head to The Scoop, where they're doing something with the London Swing Dance Society. Weather-dependant, of course!
Monday, 7 July 2014
Play: Mr. Burns
I suppose that my primary motivation in going to Mr. Burns tonight was that I am a sometime Simpsons fan. Anyhoo, Time Out gave it a good review, and I managed to get one of the last three tickets - I chose the single seat, second row from the stage. As I was booking (with the venue - I found it impossible to get tickets anywhere else), I noted that they still had my Irish address! Gee, is it THAT long since I went to something in the Almeida?
I looked up directions on Google Maps. Fastest way is by Tube, but the most direct is to take the Overground - also cheaper, since you're not going through Zone 1. So that's what I determined to do. Leaving in good time, I arrived at the station at 6.30, for the 6.37 train. Only to see a train already at the platform. Now, they're never early - not that early, anyway - which meant that this was surely the 6.22! A bad sign, if it was delayed this much.. and I wasn't quite in time to make it, so had to depend on the 6.37 being on time. Luckily, it was, and despite a couple of hold-ups en-route, arrived pretty much on time at Highbury & Islington. And I'd even got a seat after just one stop!
From the station, hang a right and continue on the main road for about 10 minutes. By the time you get to Almeida Street, where the theatre is, you think you must be lost - but it's there, never fear. A large crowd blocked the pavement in front, spilling out from the bar next door. I entered the lobby. The box office, where I had to pick up my ticket, was to the right - but then I saw the queue for it. And followed it to the end. I couldn't believe it - I had never seen a queue this long for a box office! and this just for ticket collection. With the two-minute warning, then the one-minute warning, then the "performance starting" announcement, I worried that we wouldn't get our tickets in time. A good incentive to get there early - I arrived five minutes early, and there were people behind me.
I was tempted by the woman walking up and down the line, asking whether anyone wanted a free ticket - she had one to spare. It would have meant I'd have got my ticket faster, but I could see from the row number on the ticket that it was further back than mine. I decided to hold out - of course, despite their stern warnings, they didn't actually start until the queue was finished, and indeed not for some time after. And I quickly found my seat - at the end of the middle section of the second row from the front, it was a single seat, unusually for a theatre full of doubles, and that row also projected past the one in front, which meant there was actually no seat in front of me, and I had lots of leg room. (B17, for future reference).
This play has three acts - so two intervals - each act beginning and ending with a crash! and the lights being turned off suddenly. Not really a play during which you can drop off. In the first act, we are introduced to a small group of frightened survivors of some unspecified holocaust, huddled round a camp fire somewhere in the Northeast United States. They pass the time by remembering old Simpsons episodes. And like the other acts, this act mixes hilarity with deadly seriousness; I, for one, found it very shocking when a stranger approached - down the aisle beside me, you do need to keep feet and bags out of the way - and everyone onstage whipped out a gun, in a reflex action. My unease was heightened, I think, by the fact that I was so close to them, as well as that I knew there were to be gunshots at some point..
During the first interval, I bought an immensely overpriced, but very tasty, double chocolate ice cream, and politely nodded and smiled at the effusive, elderly, American-sounding woman sitting near me, who was obviously a Gilbert and Sullivan expert, and probably delighted that their music was also incorporated into the play. They incorporate a lot of popular music, both in the play and during the intervals.
Act 2 takes place seven years later, we're told by the helpful woman brandishing a board with this information chalked on it. By now, The Simpsons has become a way of making money - or something to barter with - in this post-electric world where no-one can watch tv any longer, so groups tour the country, re-enacting episodes. Again, hilarity mixes with deadly seriousness. There's a terrific routine of "greatest hits of the 00s", and a sense of desperation as these people try to eke out an existence, and one describes how it's gotten tougher out there.
And the final act? Defies description. This is the climax of the show, and the pinnacle of meaning of The Simpsons in this brave new world - Act 3 takes place 75 years after Act 2. You have never seen The Simpsons done like this! It's completely OTT, and completely mesmerising. As I walked back to the station afterwards, someone walking behind me was discussing with his companion the meaning of the play - how, in a world without meaning, cultural icons take on a new significance. Well, yes. Indeed.
It's also terrific fun, especially for lovers of The Simpsons. I can highly recommend this. Runs until the 26th - booking perhaps not absolutely necessary, but probably advisable.
For tomorrow, I've been looking for films again. Top of the list was Boyhood - a Richard Linklater project, where he takes Ethan Hawke and Patricia Arquette as the parents, and casts a six-year old boy. He then films a bit each year for the next 12 years, showing the little boy growing up. The little boy's sister is played by Linklater's real-life daughter. Really unusual, and supposed to be really good. Unfortunately, it's also really long, and not showing anywhere nearby. It's showing at venues about an hour away, but not until 8pm. So not feasible during the week, at least. Instead, I've booked to go the London Jewish Cultural Centre, of all places, where they're showing a documentary called The Lady in Number 6 - the world's oldest pianist and Holocaust survivor. On Wednesday, Nabeel has summoned us to a gathering for his birthday, and Thursday is the annual company barbeque. On Friday, I'm provisionally looking at heading to The Scoop in the evening - weather permitting, of course - where they're having a month of music. Apparently, the London Swing Dance Society is involved that evening.. and, as ever at The Scoop, it's free!
I looked up directions on Google Maps. Fastest way is by Tube, but the most direct is to take the Overground - also cheaper, since you're not going through Zone 1. So that's what I determined to do. Leaving in good time, I arrived at the station at 6.30, for the 6.37 train. Only to see a train already at the platform. Now, they're never early - not that early, anyway - which meant that this was surely the 6.22! A bad sign, if it was delayed this much.. and I wasn't quite in time to make it, so had to depend on the 6.37 being on time. Luckily, it was, and despite a couple of hold-ups en-route, arrived pretty much on time at Highbury & Islington. And I'd even got a seat after just one stop!
From the station, hang a right and continue on the main road for about 10 minutes. By the time you get to Almeida Street, where the theatre is, you think you must be lost - but it's there, never fear. A large crowd blocked the pavement in front, spilling out from the bar next door. I entered the lobby. The box office, where I had to pick up my ticket, was to the right - but then I saw the queue for it. And followed it to the end. I couldn't believe it - I had never seen a queue this long for a box office! and this just for ticket collection. With the two-minute warning, then the one-minute warning, then the "performance starting" announcement, I worried that we wouldn't get our tickets in time. A good incentive to get there early - I arrived five minutes early, and there were people behind me.
I was tempted by the woman walking up and down the line, asking whether anyone wanted a free ticket - she had one to spare. It would have meant I'd have got my ticket faster, but I could see from the row number on the ticket that it was further back than mine. I decided to hold out - of course, despite their stern warnings, they didn't actually start until the queue was finished, and indeed not for some time after. And I quickly found my seat - at the end of the middle section of the second row from the front, it was a single seat, unusually for a theatre full of doubles, and that row also projected past the one in front, which meant there was actually no seat in front of me, and I had lots of leg room. (B17, for future reference).
This play has three acts - so two intervals - each act beginning and ending with a crash! and the lights being turned off suddenly. Not really a play during which you can drop off. In the first act, we are introduced to a small group of frightened survivors of some unspecified holocaust, huddled round a camp fire somewhere in the Northeast United States. They pass the time by remembering old Simpsons episodes. And like the other acts, this act mixes hilarity with deadly seriousness; I, for one, found it very shocking when a stranger approached - down the aisle beside me, you do need to keep feet and bags out of the way - and everyone onstage whipped out a gun, in a reflex action. My unease was heightened, I think, by the fact that I was so close to them, as well as that I knew there were to be gunshots at some point..
During the first interval, I bought an immensely overpriced, but very tasty, double chocolate ice cream, and politely nodded and smiled at the effusive, elderly, American-sounding woman sitting near me, who was obviously a Gilbert and Sullivan expert, and probably delighted that their music was also incorporated into the play. They incorporate a lot of popular music, both in the play and during the intervals.
Act 2 takes place seven years later, we're told by the helpful woman brandishing a board with this information chalked on it. By now, The Simpsons has become a way of making money - or something to barter with - in this post-electric world where no-one can watch tv any longer, so groups tour the country, re-enacting episodes. Again, hilarity mixes with deadly seriousness. There's a terrific routine of "greatest hits of the 00s", and a sense of desperation as these people try to eke out an existence, and one describes how it's gotten tougher out there.
And the final act? Defies description. This is the climax of the show, and the pinnacle of meaning of The Simpsons in this brave new world - Act 3 takes place 75 years after Act 2. You have never seen The Simpsons done like this! It's completely OTT, and completely mesmerising. As I walked back to the station afterwards, someone walking behind me was discussing with his companion the meaning of the play - how, in a world without meaning, cultural icons take on a new significance. Well, yes. Indeed.
It's also terrific fun, especially for lovers of The Simpsons. I can highly recommend this. Runs until the 26th - booking perhaps not absolutely necessary, but probably advisable.
For tomorrow, I've been looking for films again. Top of the list was Boyhood - a Richard Linklater project, where he takes Ethan Hawke and Patricia Arquette as the parents, and casts a six-year old boy. He then films a bit each year for the next 12 years, showing the little boy growing up. The little boy's sister is played by Linklater's real-life daughter. Really unusual, and supposed to be really good. Unfortunately, it's also really long, and not showing anywhere nearby. It's showing at venues about an hour away, but not until 8pm. So not feasible during the week, at least. Instead, I've booked to go the London Jewish Cultural Centre, of all places, where they're showing a documentary called The Lady in Number 6 - the world's oldest pianist and Holocaust survivor. On Wednesday, Nabeel has summoned us to a gathering for his birthday, and Thursday is the annual company barbeque. On Friday, I'm provisionally looking at heading to The Scoop in the evening - weather permitting, of course - where they're having a month of music. Apparently, the London Swing Dance Society is involved that evening.. and, as ever at The Scoop, it's free!
Sunday, 6 July 2014
Acrobatics: Knee Deep
We'd arranged to go to Glór in Ennis yesterday evening, to see an acrobatics performance by Casus - an Australian company - called Knee Deep. Then my mother wasn't keen, when she realised that the All-Ireland Senior Hurling Qualifier (for entry to the quarter-finals) between Clare and Wexford was scheduled for that afternoon, in Cusack Park. In Ennis. She was worried about parking, but I eventually persuaded her.
On the way, it occurred to me that, instead of eating in the Old Ground Hotel, as we are wont to do when we have to go to Mass as well, in the cathedral across the road - we could stop at The Grove on the outskirts of town. Parking wouldn't be a problem, and we could head into town for Mass, and then the show, after the match had finished and the crowds dispersed. So that's what we did.
She had salmon, as usual - seeing a special offer on steak, I decided to go for that. It soon became obvious that they were watching the match in the bar, which is separated from the restaurant area. We could follow Clare's fortunes by the crowd's audible reaction (a cheer for a Clare point, a roar for a Clare goal - silence for a Wexford score). My mother remarked on the lack of atmosphere where we were sitting, in comparison.. I followed the score more precisely on my phone. As for the food, well, I believe she liked the salmon. My steak was a bit so-so, but filling; I could've done without the sauce though, which was quite tasteless. Given that the match went to extra time, we decided to have some ice cream for dessert. Popped over to the side, where I could see the telly, to watch the end of the match - it was a thriller, with Clare coming from a substantial distance behind to level the match, and then take the lead, and this with one man down! Then Wexford rallied, and matched them point-for-point, until finally it ended in a draw, and they have to do it all again next Saturday. In Semple Stadium, in Thurles, for the sake of having a neutral venue.
Well, we finally ventured into town. We were wise to eat on the outskirts; we met the sea of people - cars and pedestrians - exiting the stadium before too long. We were surprised how far out they'd obviously had to park - this was, without doubt, a capacity crowd. We made decent progress until we reached Clon Road. This isn't too far from the stadium, and a lot of people had parked off to the side of this road, and now wanted to be let back into traffic. So a road that would normally take me approximately 30 seconds to drive down, yesterday took 25 minutes. Just as well we were early!
The town had pretty much emptied after the match, and parking wasn't now a problem. We got Mass, and made our way nice and early to the venue. When we went in, I noticed they've apparently done away with the book-swap they had just inside the door. Nuts! That was handy for getting rid of old books. Just as well I'd forgotten the one I'd intended to bring. Anyhoo, I collected our tickets and we settled ourselves with an ice cream (hey, it's July!) and a glass of wine at one of the café tables until it was time to go in to the auditorium. It's a funny thing when you have central seats - they can never decide which door to send you in by. So first, we were told we'd enter by the first door - when we tried to do so, the person on the door sent us to the other door. Maybe because most people were using that first door.
Our seats were fine, except on the flat, and my mother complained that she couldn't see properly, with the big head attached to the guy sitting in front of her. We managed, though. We noticed a trio taking their seats, still bravely wearing their Wexford jerseys! Ooh.. the nerve! ;-) Just before the show started, one of the performers - as evidenced by his accent - made the pre-show announcement about fire exits, and not recording. He also told us that one of them (turned out to be the female performer on the promotional material) wouldn't be performing that night because of injury. Yep, par for the course in this game, and unsurprising, considering how they push themselves, as I've said before.
The show ran for slightly under an hour, and was reworked for three performers. I've seen quite a few shows of this kind lately. Some are purely focused on the physical feats - think A Simple Space - some develop a theme, like La Meute. Actually, the group that performs A Simple Space is also Australian. What is it with Australia.. does it have a great circus school or something?
This show was, apparently, the sell-out act at last year's Galway Arts Festival. Now, I always used to go to the Galway Arts Festival when I lived in the area. I've been going since I was a kid - I think it's fantastic. Knowing it as I do, and the kind of acts it favours, it wasn't a surprise to see that Knee Deep takes an artistic bent. With a hypnotic soundtrack running throughout, the performers are as concerned with dance moves, the flow of performance, and the different meanings you can attach to - er - eggs, as with feats of strength and balance. Yes, eggs. Eggs feature prominently in this show. They have a couple of full egg boxes at the front of the stage before the show starts. The first act involves walking gingerly along the stage, on top of the eggs in their boxes. Well, of course, they're strong at the ends. Eggs, that is. And then they hold eggs as they balance, as you would expect. Just to make it harder.
As the show progresses, they introduce some comedy routines, to shake things up a bit. But there's no dilution of the acrobatics, which are the equal of any I've seen. It was refreshing to be part of an audience that was obviously less jaded than what I'm used to in London, and ooh-ed and aah-ed and gasped appreciatively at various bits. The performers liked that too! And it was nice that they got a standing ovation at the end. As my mother remarked, as we were getting ready to leave, "They're very fit!" Yes mother, just what I was thinking..
And when we got home, as usual, there was no internet downstairs, and by the time I went to bed, I was too tired to blog. And today, there were a whole host of other things to do before I left. So here I am, finally filling you in, when I should already have taken my shower! Lordy, what a busy existence. For tomorrow, I've just booked for Mr. Burns, at the Almeida. Should be good for us Simpsons fans - apparently, it's set in a post-apocalyptic world where people get by on the ethos of the Simpsons. Got one of the last three seats in the stalls - it's hard to get tickets for the big shows these days. At least, since it's not in the centre, I shouldn't run into travel problems, what with the Tour de France being in town tomorrow..
On the way, it occurred to me that, instead of eating in the Old Ground Hotel, as we are wont to do when we have to go to Mass as well, in the cathedral across the road - we could stop at The Grove on the outskirts of town. Parking wouldn't be a problem, and we could head into town for Mass, and then the show, after the match had finished and the crowds dispersed. So that's what we did.
She had salmon, as usual - seeing a special offer on steak, I decided to go for that. It soon became obvious that they were watching the match in the bar, which is separated from the restaurant area. We could follow Clare's fortunes by the crowd's audible reaction (a cheer for a Clare point, a roar for a Clare goal - silence for a Wexford score). My mother remarked on the lack of atmosphere where we were sitting, in comparison.. I followed the score more precisely on my phone. As for the food, well, I believe she liked the salmon. My steak was a bit so-so, but filling; I could've done without the sauce though, which was quite tasteless. Given that the match went to extra time, we decided to have some ice cream for dessert. Popped over to the side, where I could see the telly, to watch the end of the match - it was a thriller, with Clare coming from a substantial distance behind to level the match, and then take the lead, and this with one man down! Then Wexford rallied, and matched them point-for-point, until finally it ended in a draw, and they have to do it all again next Saturday. In Semple Stadium, in Thurles, for the sake of having a neutral venue.
Well, we finally ventured into town. We were wise to eat on the outskirts; we met the sea of people - cars and pedestrians - exiting the stadium before too long. We were surprised how far out they'd obviously had to park - this was, without doubt, a capacity crowd. We made decent progress until we reached Clon Road. This isn't too far from the stadium, and a lot of people had parked off to the side of this road, and now wanted to be let back into traffic. So a road that would normally take me approximately 30 seconds to drive down, yesterday took 25 minutes. Just as well we were early!
The town had pretty much emptied after the match, and parking wasn't now a problem. We got Mass, and made our way nice and early to the venue. When we went in, I noticed they've apparently done away with the book-swap they had just inside the door. Nuts! That was handy for getting rid of old books. Just as well I'd forgotten the one I'd intended to bring. Anyhoo, I collected our tickets and we settled ourselves with an ice cream (hey, it's July!) and a glass of wine at one of the café tables until it was time to go in to the auditorium. It's a funny thing when you have central seats - they can never decide which door to send you in by. So first, we were told we'd enter by the first door - when we tried to do so, the person on the door sent us to the other door. Maybe because most people were using that first door.
Our seats were fine, except on the flat, and my mother complained that she couldn't see properly, with the big head attached to the guy sitting in front of her. We managed, though. We noticed a trio taking their seats, still bravely wearing their Wexford jerseys! Ooh.. the nerve! ;-) Just before the show started, one of the performers - as evidenced by his accent - made the pre-show announcement about fire exits, and not recording. He also told us that one of them (turned out to be the female performer on the promotional material) wouldn't be performing that night because of injury. Yep, par for the course in this game, and unsurprising, considering how they push themselves, as I've said before.
The show ran for slightly under an hour, and was reworked for three performers. I've seen quite a few shows of this kind lately. Some are purely focused on the physical feats - think A Simple Space - some develop a theme, like La Meute. Actually, the group that performs A Simple Space is also Australian. What is it with Australia.. does it have a great circus school or something?
This show was, apparently, the sell-out act at last year's Galway Arts Festival. Now, I always used to go to the Galway Arts Festival when I lived in the area. I've been going since I was a kid - I think it's fantastic. Knowing it as I do, and the kind of acts it favours, it wasn't a surprise to see that Knee Deep takes an artistic bent. With a hypnotic soundtrack running throughout, the performers are as concerned with dance moves, the flow of performance, and the different meanings you can attach to - er - eggs, as with feats of strength and balance. Yes, eggs. Eggs feature prominently in this show. They have a couple of full egg boxes at the front of the stage before the show starts. The first act involves walking gingerly along the stage, on top of the eggs in their boxes. Well, of course, they're strong at the ends. Eggs, that is. And then they hold eggs as they balance, as you would expect. Just to make it harder.
As the show progresses, they introduce some comedy routines, to shake things up a bit. But there's no dilution of the acrobatics, which are the equal of any I've seen. It was refreshing to be part of an audience that was obviously less jaded than what I'm used to in London, and ooh-ed and aah-ed and gasped appreciatively at various bits. The performers liked that too! And it was nice that they got a standing ovation at the end. As my mother remarked, as we were getting ready to leave, "They're very fit!" Yes mother, just what I was thinking..
And when we got home, as usual, there was no internet downstairs, and by the time I went to bed, I was too tired to blog. And today, there were a whole host of other things to do before I left. So here I am, finally filling you in, when I should already have taken my shower! Lordy, what a busy existence. For tomorrow, I've just booked for Mr. Burns, at the Almeida. Should be good for us Simpsons fans - apparently, it's set in a post-apocalyptic world where people get by on the ethos of the Simpsons. Got one of the last three seats in the stalls - it's hard to get tickets for the big shows these days. At least, since it's not in the centre, I shouldn't run into travel problems, what with the Tour de France being in town tomorrow..
Thursday, 3 July 2014
Film: Video Nasties: Draconian Days
It was a beautiful evening this evening as I took myself into Leicester Square to see Video Nasties: Draconian Days at the Prince Charles cinema. There was such a crowd outside that I wondered whether I'd be able to get in - turned out they were eavesdropping on an interview being conducted with someone I think was associated with the film - I'm not an expert. Anyway, I bypassed the excitement and queued for a ticket - it always takes forever here. Made my way downstairs and chose a seat. This was very well attended - turned out it was the world premiere, and several rows were reserved for guests. I squeezed into a seat. Unfortunately, I then had to get up lots of times, because the rows are quite tight here and people haven't a hope of squeezing past you unless you stand. And even then, you'd better be comfortable with close physical contact.
Anyway, this is a documentary about when various films, considered exceptionally gory, violent, sexually explicit, or all of the above, were heavily censored or outright banned, and classified as "video nasties". The censorship was stricter on videos, which could be watched at home, than on cinema releases - it was felt that it was easier, in a cinema, to control who saw a film, but that at home there was the danger that children could see something inappropriate. I remember all this from when I was growing up, and the ensuing furore - in particular, how such films were blamed for inciting the boys that killed Jamie Bolger, something that's highlighted in this film.
It was obvious, of course, which side this audience were on. Much derision greeted any clips of interviews with the censors - at least at the start, although as the other side of the argument was shown, the audience calmed down a bit. Some offending clips were shown - and you could see what was objectionable about them. Much was made of how the United Kingdom had "the most repressive censorship regime in Western Europe". Eh, excuse me, Ireland had the same! To be fair, the hysteria was imported from the UK, I think.
So, following the timeline demonstrated by the film: prior to the Jamie Bolger case, it was kind of academic - but after the murder, people developed a hysteria about such films, the term "video nasty" was coined, and video stores were seen to burn copies of these films. Someone in this film rightly compared that to the book-burning carried out under the Nazi regime. Various titles were banned outright. There's a very funny clip from a tv interview where the panel included a horror film director, who was the only calm and rational one there. The myth of "snuff films" arose, with people as notable as Charlie Sheen saying that what they had seen on screen must have been real, with people really dying. As one of the interviewed filmmakers remarked, to come out with such a comment, you'd really have to know very little about what special effects could do. Or just be very stupid.
The next part of the film is the bit I found most interesting, after all the enthusiasts of this kind of film had to go underground. So they produced cheap magazines at home, distributed them among like-minded people, met at trade fairs. They had to smuggle titles in from abroad, feeling, as one described it, like drug smugglers. There were all-night horror marathons at various venues in the UK, where they would meet to view banned films. There was a great sense of camaraderie, and of showing two fingers to the powers-that-be: although the threat of prosecution always loomed over them.
Finally, the censor who'd held sway for so many years found himself unable to battle both porn and violence - so he decided to concentrate on the violent films, which he considered more dangerous. However, he unilaterally decided, overnight, to legalise all forms of pornography. Without a by or leave, as they say. And found himself facing an irate public. He resigned soon after - and was replaced by someone who promptly legalised everything.
There is an argument that banning something makes it more attractive. I've always found that to be the case. Some films you wouldn't believe could have been banned, and I'm very glad, for instance, that the ban was lifted on The Exorcist - one of my favourite films. It seems so ridiculous now to hear that their objection wasn't so much specifically what happened in it, as that it was happening to a 12-year-old girl, so other 12-year-olds would be likely to see it. You what..?!
Anyway, afterwards, I'd had enough of people talking about it, so I skipped the star-studded Q+A and made for the Tube instead. Where I found myself right behind an enormous group of what looked like Japanese schoolkids. That wasn't the end of it though.. as I entered the station, the police were deploying themselves frantically to the lower levels. I soon saw why - I have never seen the Tube so crowded. They let us go down no-entry corridors to relieve the crush. Luckily, most seemed to be going Eastwards. I moved right up the platform and got on at the front of the train, to avoid the worst of it. Even got a seat. I was to be glad I got on at that station though - the crowd at the next station, Piccadilly Circus, was much worse..
Well, I'll be braving the increased security checks at Heathrow tomorrow, to head back to Ireland. And we're booked to go to Knee Deep, an acrobatics show, at Glór in Ennis on Saturday.
Anyway, this is a documentary about when various films, considered exceptionally gory, violent, sexually explicit, or all of the above, were heavily censored or outright banned, and classified as "video nasties". The censorship was stricter on videos, which could be watched at home, than on cinema releases - it was felt that it was easier, in a cinema, to control who saw a film, but that at home there was the danger that children could see something inappropriate. I remember all this from when I was growing up, and the ensuing furore - in particular, how such films were blamed for inciting the boys that killed Jamie Bolger, something that's highlighted in this film.
It was obvious, of course, which side this audience were on. Much derision greeted any clips of interviews with the censors - at least at the start, although as the other side of the argument was shown, the audience calmed down a bit. Some offending clips were shown - and you could see what was objectionable about them. Much was made of how the United Kingdom had "the most repressive censorship regime in Western Europe". Eh, excuse me, Ireland had the same! To be fair, the hysteria was imported from the UK, I think.
So, following the timeline demonstrated by the film: prior to the Jamie Bolger case, it was kind of academic - but after the murder, people developed a hysteria about such films, the term "video nasty" was coined, and video stores were seen to burn copies of these films. Someone in this film rightly compared that to the book-burning carried out under the Nazi regime. Various titles were banned outright. There's a very funny clip from a tv interview where the panel included a horror film director, who was the only calm and rational one there. The myth of "snuff films" arose, with people as notable as Charlie Sheen saying that what they had seen on screen must have been real, with people really dying. As one of the interviewed filmmakers remarked, to come out with such a comment, you'd really have to know very little about what special effects could do. Or just be very stupid.
The next part of the film is the bit I found most interesting, after all the enthusiasts of this kind of film had to go underground. So they produced cheap magazines at home, distributed them among like-minded people, met at trade fairs. They had to smuggle titles in from abroad, feeling, as one described it, like drug smugglers. There were all-night horror marathons at various venues in the UK, where they would meet to view banned films. There was a great sense of camaraderie, and of showing two fingers to the powers-that-be: although the threat of prosecution always loomed over them.
Finally, the censor who'd held sway for so many years found himself unable to battle both porn and violence - so he decided to concentrate on the violent films, which he considered more dangerous. However, he unilaterally decided, overnight, to legalise all forms of pornography. Without a by or leave, as they say. And found himself facing an irate public. He resigned soon after - and was replaced by someone who promptly legalised everything.
There is an argument that banning something makes it more attractive. I've always found that to be the case. Some films you wouldn't believe could have been banned, and I'm very glad, for instance, that the ban was lifted on The Exorcist - one of my favourite films. It seems so ridiculous now to hear that their objection wasn't so much specifically what happened in it, as that it was happening to a 12-year-old girl, so other 12-year-olds would be likely to see it. You what..?!
Anyway, afterwards, I'd had enough of people talking about it, so I skipped the star-studded Q+A and made for the Tube instead. Where I found myself right behind an enormous group of what looked like Japanese schoolkids. That wasn't the end of it though.. as I entered the station, the police were deploying themselves frantically to the lower levels. I soon saw why - I have never seen the Tube so crowded. They let us go down no-entry corridors to relieve the crush. Luckily, most seemed to be going Eastwards. I moved right up the platform and got on at the front of the train, to avoid the worst of it. Even got a seat. I was to be glad I got on at that station though - the crowd at the next station, Piccadilly Circus, was much worse..
Well, I'll be braving the increased security checks at Heathrow tomorrow, to head back to Ireland. And we're booked to go to Knee Deep, an acrobatics show, at Glór in Ennis on Saturday.
Wednesday, 2 July 2014
Film; La Vénus a la Fourrure (Venus in Fur)
La Vénus a la Fourrure (Venus in Fur) has slipped in IMDB ratings again, but peeked briefly above the rest today, long enough for me to see it and declare it the Chosen Film for today. For some reason, I'd recorded its showing time as 8.30, but when I (wisely) checked the cinema website, I saw it was on at 6.30, which meant I'd have to go straight from work.
So I headed off, in balmy sunshine, to Kensington Olympia to catch the Overground. It's directly across from the exhibition centre, where something major was obviously in swing - the place was packed. As I neared the entrance, I could see a sign for Imbibe Live - a trade fair for those involved in the drinks industry. Well, you could have gleaned what industry it was from the disgraceful condition of some of the nametag-wearing delegates, who were falling about the streets outside, one actually violent, and from the disgusting puddle of vomit I had to avoid on my way into the station. Respectable drinks-industry workers - avoid this event! I've complained to the venue, for all the good it'll do.
Anyway, I had a little wait for the Overground, and when it arrived, we all squashed in like sardines, of course. Thankfully, I was only going three stops, to Kensal Rise. Then it's a left turn from the station, and keep walking until you get there. Feels like forever, because all you can see are houses, but persevere - it's beside bus stop KB. (Actually, I was lucky I came out that exit - I discovered, when I went back, that the exit for the other platform is around the other side entirely, and you actually have to leave the station and re-enter it to get up the stairs and around to the exit I took, at the upper level. Which would have been confusing..)
To get into the Lexi, you push the wooden gate, which sticks a bit. It's quite a normal, non-cinematic-looking building - with a sign on the front that says "I am a Cinema - Love Me". Ahh. Programmes are available beside the front door, and when you go in, the ticket desk is to your right. You can also buy snacks there. It isn't hard to find your way after that - there's only one screen, which is through the next door. A large screen has a number of rows of seats arranged in front of it - leather armchairs in front, regular cinema seats behind. A couple of little round tables right in front, with nightlights flickering on them. Little crystal balls whose colours keep changing hang from the ceiling. Nice vibe to the place.
Just past the screen, there's a bar. You can't miss it - before the showing starts, the screen displays the message BAR, with an arrow. :-) There's only one table in there, but never fear - you can bring your purchases into the screen with you. I did. I wondered whether there was some special requirement for permission to sit in the leather armchairs, but no-one had said anything and there was no indication, so I just sat there. And no-one told me to leave. So that was fine!
Venus in Fur is a new Polanski film. Based on a play, it's set in a theatre, in the evening, where a disillusioned director has just finished holding auditions for the female lead of his new production of the novel, Venus in Furs, by Leopold von Sacher - Masoch. The term masochism is derived from his name. So you get an idea of what the book is about.. Anyway, this director is fed-up; none of the candidates so far meet his requirements for the role. And then, just as he's packing up and going home - in bursts a fiery woman who insists that she had an appointment although he can't find her name on the list, and persuades him into giving her a reading. Indeed, as the film progresses, she becomes the dominant participant, just like in the novel, and reality and fiction blur..
Well, I, for one, loved it! I am so glad I saw this, on the last evening this week it's showing. I found the beginning hilarious - the roles are spectacularly well cast. She's an unpredictable firebrand, and despite initially being in the position of power, he obviously is no match for her in the end. It does help if you're a bit open-minded - some of what transpires might shock those of a nervous disposition. Anyhoo, I can recommend it, to those who aren't offended by my description of it so far. And by the way, isn't it great that I got to two new cinemas this week?!
With nary a hope yet of getting an actual seat to see Skylight, I'm still on films for tomorrow. And what's coming up is Video Nasties: Draconian Days - a documentary about the rules that used to govern video productions. Showing tomorrow only in the Prince Charles cinema - it's a while since I've been there. Then, having cleared a good lot of my film list, it's back to Ireland for the weekend, and on Saturday we're off to Knee Deep, an acrobatics show at Glór in Ennis. Part of the street festival.
So I headed off, in balmy sunshine, to Kensington Olympia to catch the Overground. It's directly across from the exhibition centre, where something major was obviously in swing - the place was packed. As I neared the entrance, I could see a sign for Imbibe Live - a trade fair for those involved in the drinks industry. Well, you could have gleaned what industry it was from the disgraceful condition of some of the nametag-wearing delegates, who were falling about the streets outside, one actually violent, and from the disgusting puddle of vomit I had to avoid on my way into the station. Respectable drinks-industry workers - avoid this event! I've complained to the venue, for all the good it'll do.
Anyway, I had a little wait for the Overground, and when it arrived, we all squashed in like sardines, of course. Thankfully, I was only going three stops, to Kensal Rise. Then it's a left turn from the station, and keep walking until you get there. Feels like forever, because all you can see are houses, but persevere - it's beside bus stop KB. (Actually, I was lucky I came out that exit - I discovered, when I went back, that the exit for the other platform is around the other side entirely, and you actually have to leave the station and re-enter it to get up the stairs and around to the exit I took, at the upper level. Which would have been confusing..)
To get into the Lexi, you push the wooden gate, which sticks a bit. It's quite a normal, non-cinematic-looking building - with a sign on the front that says "I am a Cinema - Love Me". Ahh. Programmes are available beside the front door, and when you go in, the ticket desk is to your right. You can also buy snacks there. It isn't hard to find your way after that - there's only one screen, which is through the next door. A large screen has a number of rows of seats arranged in front of it - leather armchairs in front, regular cinema seats behind. A couple of little round tables right in front, with nightlights flickering on them. Little crystal balls whose colours keep changing hang from the ceiling. Nice vibe to the place.
Just past the screen, there's a bar. You can't miss it - before the showing starts, the screen displays the message BAR, with an arrow. :-) There's only one table in there, but never fear - you can bring your purchases into the screen with you. I did. I wondered whether there was some special requirement for permission to sit in the leather armchairs, but no-one had said anything and there was no indication, so I just sat there. And no-one told me to leave. So that was fine!
Venus in Fur is a new Polanski film. Based on a play, it's set in a theatre, in the evening, where a disillusioned director has just finished holding auditions for the female lead of his new production of the novel, Venus in Furs, by Leopold von Sacher - Masoch. The term masochism is derived from his name. So you get an idea of what the book is about.. Anyway, this director is fed-up; none of the candidates so far meet his requirements for the role. And then, just as he's packing up and going home - in bursts a fiery woman who insists that she had an appointment although he can't find her name on the list, and persuades him into giving her a reading. Indeed, as the film progresses, she becomes the dominant participant, just like in the novel, and reality and fiction blur..
Well, I, for one, loved it! I am so glad I saw this, on the last evening this week it's showing. I found the beginning hilarious - the roles are spectacularly well cast. She's an unpredictable firebrand, and despite initially being in the position of power, he obviously is no match for her in the end. It does help if you're a bit open-minded - some of what transpires might shock those of a nervous disposition. Anyhoo, I can recommend it, to those who aren't offended by my description of it so far. And by the way, isn't it great that I got to two new cinemas this week?!
With nary a hope yet of getting an actual seat to see Skylight, I'm still on films for tomorrow. And what's coming up is Video Nasties: Draconian Days - a documentary about the rules that used to govern video productions. Showing tomorrow only in the Prince Charles cinema - it's a while since I've been there. Then, having cleared a good lot of my film list, it's back to Ireland for the weekend, and on Saturday we're off to Knee Deep, an acrobatics show at Glór in Ennis. Part of the street festival.
Film: La Jaula de Oro (The Golden Dream)
I didn't go out on Monday - had to run to the post office for the parcel they've been holding for me for over two weeks. I'd been waiting until I was next at my local cinema, which is down that way, but that only happened on Sunday - when, of course, the post office is closed - so I decided I'd better get onto it, and went on Monday evening. Which meant that going to La Jaula de Oro (The Golden Dream) was postponed until last night.
It was beautiful yesterday evening, so it was lucky that the film wasn't on until 8.55. I headed to the cemetery first and passed a pleasant while in the sunshine, reading the free book I'd been sent (and collected the day before) as part of my U2 fan club subscription. Saw someone walking a small fluffy dog right past the "No Dogs" sign. :-)
Now, it was interesting getting to this cinema. The Curzon Victoria is new - I hadn't been there before, and Google Maps has never heard of it. Nor is it on Streetview, which just shows a large construction site - they've massively redeveloped all this area. So I was obliged to go by the address on the cinema website (58 Victoria Street). It turns out to be about equidistant from Victora and St. James's Park Tube stations. Google Maps wanted me to go to St. James's Park and walk down back streets - I figured it would be easier, and about as quick, to get off at the previous stop - Victoria - and walk straight down Victoria Street. And that's what I did.
That, in itself, was made a bit tricky by the ongoing construction works. I knew the cinema was to be on the other side of the road, so I crossed over, weaving my way between construction barriers. And promptly had to cross back, and cross over again further down, because the pavement on the other side was blocked by yet more construction works! They have finished a substantial amount, however, and I found myself walking down a canyon of glass and chrome, all shiny new shops. I haven't been down this side of the station in years, and it was quite a revalation to me. And then.. there was a sign for Westminster Cathedral (to the right). You wot? Yes indeed, there it was - sandwiched in between a couple of tower-block shopping units. O dear, talk about insensitive developments - I don't like the way that's been done at all! Typical, as they say, of this mayor's lack of concern over building regulations (build 'em fast & build 'em high).
Anyway, I duly came to the cinema, quite discreetly tucked into one of the developments. It has the name over the door, it has a screen showing film clips. Still, I think you might miss it if you weren't specifically looking for it! Might be easier to see from the other side of the road. I rather dubiously walked in - I say dubiously, because apart from that screen, it doesn't look like a cinema at all, more like a swanky bar. I felt rather underdressed. Well, I approached the bar and asked for a cinema ticket. :-) No problem (except for the £14.50 regular adult peak price, which I guess is necessary to pay for the swish decor). She produced a laminated seat plan to ask where I'd like to sit, told me it was downstairs.
So down the glass staircase I ventured, now feeling distinctly underdressed. Into an even swisher bar - all black walls, a huge screen on the wall showing film clips. Glass cases to the side housed banks of cd / dvd players. The staff were quite attentive - one immediately appeared and asked me what screen I wanted. But it wasn't hard to find - Screens 3, 4, 5 are straight ahead as you come down the stairs. For Screens 1 & 2, you have to double back. I proceeded to my screen, admired the decor in there too. Understated red and black, quite a small space. The seats are lovely and comfortable, non-tipping. Oh yes, very nice indeed.
Well, I was here to see a film. For once, the trailers before it were for films I might actually like to see. And o my, what a little gem this is. It's the story of three Guatemalan teenagers heading for Los Angeles, subsequently joined by an Indian who doesn't speak Spanish, meaning that what dialogue there is is somewhat curtailed, particularly near the end of the film. Now, I like that - films that use that device generally keep your attention in other ways.
It's a long and dangerous trip from Guatelama to the States. Not only do they have to worry about US immigration - they have to get into Mexico first. The film title in Spanish means "The Golden Cage", which should give you a hint that all does not go well - and indeed, this film pulls no punches. Although it's not too graphic, you wouldn't believe everything that happens to these poor kids. Quite apart from the difficulties of travelling all that way with no money, and no travel permits of any kind, they encounter bandits, corrupt local police, army, and US immigration guards, all out to do them no good. And it's a moot point which are worse. Some events in the film are a real wake-up call - actually, pretty much everything is.
It's harrowing, but it's such a memorable film. The (obviously inexperienced) actors were given outline scripts and just let do their thing, and it works tremendously. As one reviewer remarked, these are characters we really care about. And the visuals are absolutely stunning. The scenery is breathtaking, and as mentioned above, when the dialogue peters out, the visuals just take over, with mesmerising shots of the trains they're riding on, use of light, images telling a thousand words. As the film ends, we see the "golden cage" of the Spanish title.
I can't recommend this highly enough. It's one of those films that will stay with you for a long time. It's been a long time since I sat in a cinema and didn't want to leave once the end credits rolled.
For tonight's film: well, I've given up entirely on Chef. It's still highly rated, and should be next on my list - but, you know what happened? I simply saw the trailer too many times! I got sick of it, and started to think this wasn't my thing. I was bolstered in my opinion by a review in the Evening Standard, which described it as a vanity project - a fair enough description, given that the same man directed, wrote, and stars in it. The same review described it as the male equivalent of a chick-flick whose star solves all her emotional problems by opening a cupcake shop. Except here, it's a greasy spoon. Well said. Instead, there is a cluster of films around 7.2.. but just checking them now, I see that one has pulled ahead - Venus in Fur, a new Polanski film, is showing tonight only in the Lexi. It'll mean a trek straight from work, but sounds like it might be worth it!
It was beautiful yesterday evening, so it was lucky that the film wasn't on until 8.55. I headed to the cemetery first and passed a pleasant while in the sunshine, reading the free book I'd been sent (and collected the day before) as part of my U2 fan club subscription. Saw someone walking a small fluffy dog right past the "No Dogs" sign. :-)
Now, it was interesting getting to this cinema. The Curzon Victoria is new - I hadn't been there before, and Google Maps has never heard of it. Nor is it on Streetview, which just shows a large construction site - they've massively redeveloped all this area. So I was obliged to go by the address on the cinema website (58 Victoria Street). It turns out to be about equidistant from Victora and St. James's Park Tube stations. Google Maps wanted me to go to St. James's Park and walk down back streets - I figured it would be easier, and about as quick, to get off at the previous stop - Victoria - and walk straight down Victoria Street. And that's what I did.
That, in itself, was made a bit tricky by the ongoing construction works. I knew the cinema was to be on the other side of the road, so I crossed over, weaving my way between construction barriers. And promptly had to cross back, and cross over again further down, because the pavement on the other side was blocked by yet more construction works! They have finished a substantial amount, however, and I found myself walking down a canyon of glass and chrome, all shiny new shops. I haven't been down this side of the station in years, and it was quite a revalation to me. And then.. there was a sign for Westminster Cathedral (to the right). You wot? Yes indeed, there it was - sandwiched in between a couple of tower-block shopping units. O dear, talk about insensitive developments - I don't like the way that's been done at all! Typical, as they say, of this mayor's lack of concern over building regulations (build 'em fast & build 'em high).
Anyway, I duly came to the cinema, quite discreetly tucked into one of the developments. It has the name over the door, it has a screen showing film clips. Still, I think you might miss it if you weren't specifically looking for it! Might be easier to see from the other side of the road. I rather dubiously walked in - I say dubiously, because apart from that screen, it doesn't look like a cinema at all, more like a swanky bar. I felt rather underdressed. Well, I approached the bar and asked for a cinema ticket. :-) No problem (except for the £14.50 regular adult peak price, which I guess is necessary to pay for the swish decor). She produced a laminated seat plan to ask where I'd like to sit, told me it was downstairs.
So down the glass staircase I ventured, now feeling distinctly underdressed. Into an even swisher bar - all black walls, a huge screen on the wall showing film clips. Glass cases to the side housed banks of cd / dvd players. The staff were quite attentive - one immediately appeared and asked me what screen I wanted. But it wasn't hard to find - Screens 3, 4, 5 are straight ahead as you come down the stairs. For Screens 1 & 2, you have to double back. I proceeded to my screen, admired the decor in there too. Understated red and black, quite a small space. The seats are lovely and comfortable, non-tipping. Oh yes, very nice indeed.
Well, I was here to see a film. For once, the trailers before it were for films I might actually like to see. And o my, what a little gem this is. It's the story of three Guatemalan teenagers heading for Los Angeles, subsequently joined by an Indian who doesn't speak Spanish, meaning that what dialogue there is is somewhat curtailed, particularly near the end of the film. Now, I like that - films that use that device generally keep your attention in other ways.
It's a long and dangerous trip from Guatelama to the States. Not only do they have to worry about US immigration - they have to get into Mexico first. The film title in Spanish means "The Golden Cage", which should give you a hint that all does not go well - and indeed, this film pulls no punches. Although it's not too graphic, you wouldn't believe everything that happens to these poor kids. Quite apart from the difficulties of travelling all that way with no money, and no travel permits of any kind, they encounter bandits, corrupt local police, army, and US immigration guards, all out to do them no good. And it's a moot point which are worse. Some events in the film are a real wake-up call - actually, pretty much everything is.
It's harrowing, but it's such a memorable film. The (obviously inexperienced) actors were given outline scripts and just let do their thing, and it works tremendously. As one reviewer remarked, these are characters we really care about. And the visuals are absolutely stunning. The scenery is breathtaking, and as mentioned above, when the dialogue peters out, the visuals just take over, with mesmerising shots of the trains they're riding on, use of light, images telling a thousand words. As the film ends, we see the "golden cage" of the Spanish title.
I can't recommend this highly enough. It's one of those films that will stay with you for a long time. It's been a long time since I sat in a cinema and didn't want to leave once the end credits rolled.
For tonight's film: well, I've given up entirely on Chef. It's still highly rated, and should be next on my list - but, you know what happened? I simply saw the trailer too many times! I got sick of it, and started to think this wasn't my thing. I was bolstered in my opinion by a review in the Evening Standard, which described it as a vanity project - a fair enough description, given that the same man directed, wrote, and stars in it. The same review described it as the male equivalent of a chick-flick whose star solves all her emotional problems by opening a cupcake shop. Except here, it's a greasy spoon. Well said. Instead, there is a cluster of films around 7.2.. but just checking them now, I see that one has pulled ahead - Venus in Fur, a new Polanski film, is showing tonight only in the Lexi. It'll mean a trek straight from work, but sounds like it might be worth it!
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