The best thing on Meetup for last night sounded like Orson's Shadow, showing at the Southwark Playhouse, and for which, again, London For Less! had discounted tickets. They weren't booking out, so I managed to get one. And I wasn't going to let a little thing like a Tube strike stop me!
There are buses, of course, but the problem is, I don't normally take them, and I'm not very familiar with routes outside my area. Or the location of bus stops, for that matter! So, lots of research was required, and I duly had a plan for a bus from Victoria to Newington Causeway, across the road from the theatre, and from the theatre back home. TFL had warned that services would stop at 6pm, and all journeys should be finished by then, so I figured as long as I was in Victoria by then, I'd be ok.
I left at abt 5.20. The Tube journey to Victoria only takes about 15 minutes. At the station, there was a large crowd on the platform. The indicator board said that a train was due, and indeed, if you peered down the platform, you could see one at the end. Waiting. We wondered why. Eventually, it chugged up the platform and we got on for the journey to Earl's Court.
The train kept stopping and starting, and the driver apologised, saying there was a train at Victoria whose doors wouldn't open, and it was holding up the whole service. Finally, as Earl's Court loomed into view, the driver explained that District Line trains would not be stopping at Victoria that evening - the District Line platforms at Victoria were overcrowded, and had been closed. (Insert expletive here.) There was nothing for it - I was going to have to get a bus to Victoria. Handily, there was a bus map on the platform at Earl's Court, where I could see what bus to get and where to catch it.
So I left the station and crossed the road - the stop wasn't far away, and in due course I caught a bus to Victoria. I was lucky - it was empty when we got on. It was 5.45 - still almost two hours to go to curtain up. Ironically, the bus travelled back the way I'd come, initially - a waste of time, that Tube journey. But you can't predict these things. We had a mostly incident-free journey, although the bus had filled up completely by Knightsbridge. That was also where the worst of the traffic was. But it disgorged us outside Victoria at 6.20, which wasn't bad.
I crossed the road to the stop for my next bus, and joined the large crowd there. As I waited, a TFL guy strolled up and down, with information leaflets about how to get around Central London without Tube - very popular with the tourists. And I waited.. and waited. Many buses call at that stop, and it was very suspenseful, a bus coming around the corner to great anticipation, then crushing disappointment when it turns out not to be yours. 25 minutes I had to wait for mine.
The bus arrived at 6.45. Well, should still be ok, if traffic allowed - and I got on. Again, we were lucky - it was the terminus, and the bus was empty. And for much of that journey, it looked hopeful - there were long stretches without delay. And then there were a couple of horrendous bottlenecks that wrecked our whole schedule. As we approached Elephant & Castle, the driver obviously decided that this was going to take longer than he had left on his shift, and changed the destination to Newington Causeway. Well, at least I had that in my favour - it was my stop. Others on the bus weren't so happy, and argued with him that he hadn't warned them about this in advance! I guess these were people more used to travelling by Tube..
It was 7.35. By the time I made it up the road, it was 7.40, and no, they weren't still letting people in. I bought myself a much-needed glass of (very good value) wine at the bar, texted the organiser to let him know I was drowning my sorrows, and took a seat on the comfy sofa, in front of the telly, and with my wine and paper, it quite felt like heaven. And there I sat until the interval, when they streamed out and sympathised, and we chatted for a bit before going in for the second half. I also noticed a face I recognised, over the side, but couldn't place the name until somebody later remarked how cool it was to have Charles Dance in the audience!
The play tells the tale, based on true events apparently, of the collaboration of Orson Welles and Sir Laurence Olivier in a play in London. Also appearing is Vivien Leigh, who was married to Olivier at the time, but soon to be replaced as his wife by his co-star in the play. And that's pretty all there was to the plot. I thought the portrayal of these famous characters was superb, with particular kudos to the actor playing Vivien Leigh, who was bipolar - it's not easy to play someone having a manic episode and make it believable. The only real quibble I had was with the stage design - this is played in the round, but it's not designed for it, and I had Orson Welles' back to me for most of the show, as he directs proceedings from his chair. Which is a shame. I recommend sitting at the side furthest from the door for this production - that seemed to be where most of the action was directed.
Anyhoo, I did like the second half, and if you enjoy seeing famous personalities brought to life, this is the show for you. Runs till the 25th. Last night had pretty poor attendance, but that's probably down to the strike.
Had a lovely drink & chat afterwards with the group members. And yes, the journey home did take less than half the time of the outbound journey - although it started with a freezing 15-minute wait at the bus stop. Home too late to blog, again. And yes! tonight I'm braving the buses again. I've booked a ticket to Gypsy, with Imelda Staunton, at the Savoy. You know, for a show that's been out this long, I'd have expected more deals - but if you book at the last minute, the official website is the way to go. Too little legroom in the Grand Circle and rear Dress Circle, so I'm in the rear stalls. As it happens, I came across this through yet another Meetup group - the London Dramatic Arts Meetup. I was too late to book a ticket with them (tickets have opened up since, but never mind), but what they hey, might meet them anyhow. Bus routes researched - I can probably skip the first bus and just walk to the top of the road, if I leave early enough. Fingers crossed, everyone..
Film again last night, and top of the list was a short film called Beverley. Showing as one of the Rebel Girl shorts at the East End Film Festival. Well, it was a long, but easy, trip across town, and although the programme started late, I'd still be back in time to go to bed (just!) and the late start did give me time to eat at home. And top up the meters. All that kind of stuff.
So I headed out in decent time. The District Line might have taken me all the way, except that all the trains leaving at the same time I was were headed to Edgware Road, on the other branch. So I ended up changing at Earl's Court. Then it was a long, long run to Stepney Green - I made sure to bring the paper, which I'd finished by the time I got there.
Turn right upon exiting the station, walk for five minutes or so, and the Genesis cinema is on your right. There's a bar on your left as you come in - the box office is on the right, and I had a short queue to buy my ticket - good value at £8. I was just in time, and went straight in - they were handing out feedback forms, and I groaned - as usual, I didn't have a pen! but these were very handy; the film names were written in a list at the side, and you just tore off the name of your favourite film. The cinema was mostly, but not completely, full, and I got a side section to myself and kicked off my shoes.
The programme comprised seven films, five of whose directors gave a short speech beforehand, as well as one of the festival organisers, who had compiled the list. He mentioned what a privilege it was to choose the films - and I must say, they were excellent!
First up was One Thousand & One Teardrops, whose director explained that this was her graduation project. A charming animated film, it tells the story of a little Iranian girl who's starting her first day at school, and trying to decide what to wear. Then her mother comes in and breaks the news that she can't wear that! she has to wear the uniform - which, of course, is grey and drab. A talking glass vase appears, who explains that she's a tearcatcher, and tells how over the ages she has caught many, many tears of Iranian women with the same problem. And she takes us through a potted history of Iranian women's clothing. Excellent film!
A Small Dot on the Western Front tells the true story of a female war correspondent during the First World War, who buys an army uniform at a flea market, cycles to the front and walks right into a barracks and reports for duty, pretending to be a man.
7.2 is a laugh - a schoolgirl loses her memory and has to piece together why these girls are bullying her! Very entertaining. The title, BTW, refers to the rating the boys have given her.
Trato Preferente is a 4-minute Spanish film involving a female pensioner, a banker, and a food mixer. I'll leave the rest to your imagination! Laugh-out-loud funny.
Jaya tells the story of a street urchin in India - a girl dressed as a boy, for her own protection. Based on a real person, apparently.
La Guerre des Bleuets is a Québecois film telling the story of an elderly woman who sells products made with local blueberries - until a young hippy buys the farm and she can't pick there any more! What's a woman to do..?
Finally, Beverley tells the tale of a teenage mixed-race girl in Leicester in 1980. Really excellent in its description of her problems with a good-for-nothing father, a mentally retarded brother, and the constant menace of the local branch of the National Front. The young star was sitting in the front row, and much cheering greeted the film's start and end.
Indeed, we clapped after every film, which is a nice feature of film festivals. I had considerable trouble choosing which I liked best, but in the end I went for Beverley - appropriately, the reason I was there.
As I say, I was back too late to blog - just in time for bed. Tonight, I'm back with the London For Less! group - I sorted my Meetup page display problem by widening my search radius. You forget how widespread London is - I'm keeping it at 10 miles now, to be safe. They're headed to Southwark Playhouse, with discounted tickets for a production of the play Orson's Shadow, which tells the story of how Orson Welles and Sir Laurence Olivier worked together on a play, with Olivier's wife, the volatile Vivien Leigh, and his mistress, with whom he's starring in this production, thrown into the mix. It's all about massive theatrical egos.
And the fun part is, there's a Tube Strike this evening! Well, I made it around during the last one.. better leave straight from work, to avail of the services while they're still running! And research the bus routes..
I was delighted to see Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief, so near the top of my film list. Sounded fascinating, and it was the highest rated film on my list that was showing last night. So off I went to the Picturehouse Central - a new cinema, I haven't been before.
Unfortunately, I got started late - had a lot to get around to, yesterday evening. Well anyway, although it's a documentary, it's also showing at a regular cinema, and they don't much mind you arriving late. And generally have ads showing beforehand. So I wasn't horribly worried. When I got to Piccadilly Circus, I figured the Trocadero exit was the one to take, given that the cinema was supposed to be around there somewhere. Unfortunately again, when I got into the Trocadero corridor, there were no signs for the cinema. Unfamiliar with the area, I got confused, and ended up taking the first stairs out of there, exiting through a cut-price theatre ticket office!
Well, I had some idea where the cinema should be, so I headed off in that direction - and praise be! I came across a passageway with a "Picturehouse Central" sign at the end. I entered a plushly designed foyer, but couldn't see a ticket desk. Luckily, there was a guy standing at the entrance, who directed me up the grand staircase and to the right. Where there were a very small number of ticket desks, occupied by all of two people, one of whom was under constant instruction by a manager, it seemed, and the other of whom was dealing very, very slowly with two young ladies. I think it was more their fault though - they moved with terminal slowness.
When I finally got to the desk and told him what I wanted, he broke the news that it had already started. Well nuts, I couldn't have missed that much of it, and told him to go ahead. He did remark that since it was a documentary, I'd probably be ok. So I got my ticket (docs are just £8 here till the end of the year) and trotted off to where a neon sign helpfully said "Screens". A smiley lady tore my ticket, and I set off. Up the escalator. The next level up just housed Screens 1 & 2. Escalator again. Toilets on the next level up, no screens. The escalators were moving so slowly, I trotted up them rather than wait. Final escalator, and I found myself on the level with the rest of the screens. I found mine, slipped in, and took a seat right behind where I was supposed to be, just because I didn't have to push past anyone to get in there. I must say though, the seats were soo comfy! With nice high headrests, so no chance of obstructing anyone's view.
Someone was being interviewed on screen when I arrived - this was the subject of most of the film. He, in common with the rest of them, turned out to be an ex-Scientologist. And the early part of the film deals mostly with the history of its founder, L. Ron Hubbard, and the now ex-members describe with shining eyes the enthusiasm they felt, how they were sucked in with the promise of saving the world. So, this is the light-hearted start of the film.
..and then things get darker, with descriptions of Hubbard's descent into madness - how he kidnapped his baby daughter and rang his wife, pretending he'd killed her and chopped her into little pieces. She eventually got herself and the children away from him, at least. Fleeing tax evasion charges, he kept a low profile, but ran his Scientology empire from the shadows until his death in 1986. Not that they believe he died, of course. You see, it's like this; Scientology requires you to go through a series of personality tests, and the higher ones are prefixed with "OT" - Operating Thetan (they do love their acronyms). There are eight levels of those, it seems. Ol' Ron had surpassed the highest level, and was now conducting his research exterior to his human shell, y'see. They celebrate his birthday every year, it seems.
And there it might have ended. Except there was an heir waiting in the wings - David Miscavige. He's been head of the Scientologists ever since. An interesting figure, he's the one who masterminded the badgering of the IRS with lawsuits until they gave in and allowed Scientology to declare itself a religion, so it wouldn't be taxed. His former personal assistant, Marty Rathbun, is one of the ex-Scientologists interviewed, who describes him as paranoid and physically abusive. Gave me a shock when I saw Marty, BTW - he's the spit of Bill Murray.. Some of the most interesting footage is of Scientologists coming to his door, little cameras on their hats, to harass him for speaking out against them. Or Scientologists sitting in a car across the road, filming his wife as she gets home. She calls the cops - they're still filming when they get there. Say they're making a documentary. About Scientology.
Yeah, they don't much like anyone who speaks out against them. They're notorious for going after them. But we still haven't got to the worst of it. People had been laughing at the beginning of the film - they weren't laughing later on, as ex-high ranking members described how they were subjected to the correctional facility designated for those who violate the code of ethics. One of them kept describing it as "The Hole". People spoke of insanely long hours - one mentioned 30 hours on, 3 hours off, to crash for as much sleep as you could get on a sodden mattress on the roof. The 30 hours were 30 hours of manual labour. She described how she had to fake illness to get them to let her telephone her sister-in-law, who came to rescue her and her baby daughter, whom she found neglected, filthy and covered in flies - they're not allowed to keep their children with them.
Mental cruelty. Sleep deprivation. They're not supposed to contact non-members, even within their own families. Any of this sound like any other organisations we know about? Interestingly, the review of the film on the IMDB site (quoted at the top) mentions how the author has passed a Scientology Centre many times and been urged to come in and have a stress test. He says he takes one look at the frozen, zombie-like face of the person talking to him, and has the urge to laugh out loud. Seriously?! Would I want to look like you?
Of course, we know a couple of famous Scientology members. One of the film's interviewees used to be John Travolta's assistant. Oh, she was gun-ho for it, signed up for the famous Sea Org, the whole business. Unfortunately for her, Miscavige took against Sea Org - figured they were out to get him, or something. Anyway, she was the one described above, who had to rescue her daughter and flee with her sister-in-law. The film contends that Travolta knows what goes on in Scientology, but has been cowed from speaking out by the fact that they have to do all these personal confessions, and they record them.. so they have all this personal information on him, and are effectively blackmailing him.
Then of course, there's Tom Cruise. He's pictured in the film, being awarded some kind of (enormous) medal by Miscavige himself. The implication is that the Scientologists broke up his marriage to Nicole Kidman, because her father was a psychologist, and they don't like them. Apparently, they tapped her phone. After the divorce, they set him up with a custom-made girlfriend, with whom he fell out after her perceived rudeness to Miscavige at a private dinner (apparently, she hadn't been feeling well). They subsequently had her scrubbing out toilets, after her fall from grace.
You'd have to wonder, eh? What does it take to manipulate Tom Cruise like that? At the end, we learned that Scientology isn't nearly as popular any more, but they've invested in so much lucrative property around the world that they are literally worth billions. Pretty good going for a non-profit, as someone remarked! This documentary moves from poking lighthearted fun, to something dark and scary that literally had me on the edge of my seat. Probably the most gripping and chilling documentary I've ever seen. Showing in selected cinemas. Go see.
Tonight is looking like the movies again - there's an East End Film Festival on, and a programme of shorts tonight that looks good - Rebel Girl. It's on right on the other side of town (as you'd expect from an East End Film Festival) - in the Genesis cinema. Bah humbug. But hey, it's a straight run on the District Line, if a long one..
Now, as I say, I've been having trouble accessing London For Less! on the Meetup site. So the handiest way, for now, of finding out what they're doing is for the organiser to send around emails - which he did, last week, and I saw that yesterday they were headed to an opera I hadn't seen before. And there were tickets left! Cool.. so I planned my week up to that point (unusual for me to plan that far ahead) and booked it.
At least the start time was late enough that I didn't have to rush - while early enough that I was back at a reasonable hour. The venue was a new one for me - the interestingly named Asylum Chapel, in Peckham. Google Maps suggested I take the Overground, and handily enough, although much of it was closed yesterday for engineering works, this bit wasn't, so that's what I did.
The journey was enlivened by a Greek passenger sitting opposite me, discussing the Greek referendum with his companions. I got off at Queen's Road Peckham, and found Asylum Road, just to the right of the station - thanks Streetview, as usual! The chapel itself is located in Caroline Gardens, a 15-minute walk away on the left. I was early, the day was sunny and warm, and the walk was easy. One of us looked up the history during the interval, and discovered that this asylum wasn't a madhouse, but instead used the meaning of "asylum" as a place of sanctuary, being a retirement home for publicans:
Sadly, my phone battery died right after this, so I don't have any more photos from yesterday. But it was very atmospheric inside, and there are more photos on the event website.
I moseyed on in, but there was no-one on the door, and when I entered the performance space, it was obvious that they were still rehearsing. So I came back out and took a seat on the vacant bench. After a while, others from the group arrived, and when we saw people coming out with drinks, we decided to head on in and see whether the bar was open. There was a lady at the door now, who checked off our names, and in we went.
The church is dilapidated, and they haven't bothered to renovate the interior. Lost of peeling plaster, missing windows, rickety doors. Actually very atmospheric, as I say, and photogenic as it happens. They'd set up rows of wooden chairs for us, and the pop-up bar was at the back. Drinks were served in plastic containers, and I got myself a glass of wine. And we were all entertained by the open-plan changing room, where the performers were preparing beside the bar! ;-)
We took seats near the front, and admired the interior. Several plaques remain on the wall, and the stained-glass windows to the sides are still intact. I was so jealous of the people around me taking photos.. the area where the altar would have been was studded with large white candles, and I believe the place is used for weddings as well as a performance space. We figured out that the door to the right was where the toilets were.
Now, this is the pop-up opera, and normal rules don't quite apply. The dapper guy in the panama hat, selling programmes beforehand (and doing deals on them!) is apparently married to the owner of the company, and entertained the audience merrily. He took time out before the show to explain the concept of opera to some little 'uns in the front row.. how, you know, they sing everything they're thinking. The company don't bother much with sets or scenery - two clothes rails, a trunk containing clothes, a table and some folding chairs is about as far as it got.
The opera yesterday was L' Italiana in Algeri, and sung in Italian. A screen to the side had translations projected on it, but true to form for pop-up opera, they weren't exactly.. verbatim. As the performance progressed, I was reminded more and more of when I saw them before; it was ages ago though, and I hadn't remembered many of the details. Yep, this is opera as you haven't seen it before - rough and ready, witty, accessible.
In no way, however, do they skimp on quality. The singing is top-notch, and with a lot of the action taking place as they dart up and down the centre aisle, you can end up with an aria sung right in your ear! (People with aisle seats, take note.) Now that's quite an experience, and I recommend it if you get the chance. The original story is updated to the present day, and the location shifted to the "Algiers Casino" in Las Vegas. The hapless Lindoro is now in thrall to Mustafa because of a gambling debt, and Isabella comes to audition for Mustafa as a dancing girl, with Taddeo as her agent!
It's riotous, it's hilarious, and the projected "translations" made us roar with laughter. As we roared and cheered at the end. Really, really highly recommended if you ever get a chance to see this company - they're quite a treat!
At the interval, they were already sold out of wine.. instead, I visited the toilets, which were rather snug. When I flushed, one of the little vases with a flower in it came crashing to the floor.. a rather delicate operation, then.
We hung around outside for a while afterwards, but there wasn't much of a yen to go to a pub, and we made our separate ways home. I was starving by this point, so just popped in home to grab a coat (evenings are cool) and made my way to my local Chinese. Where I had my new usual dish there, sizzling beef in a sweet and tangy sauce. And as I told the lady at the next table who enquired what I was having: from past experience, I know it's delicious! As it was.. although they must have cooked the rice in a hurry, because some grains were chewy.
Too late to blog last night. Tonight, I'm heading to the pictures - and top of the list is the documentary Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief. Which is showing at a new cinema - the Picturehouse Central, apparently either in, or adjacent to, the Trocadero. Well, that'll be interesting. Oh, and for the rest of the year, they have a special offer of £8 tickets for documentaries.
Ah yes, the new washing machine. Ready, dressed and groggy I was at 7 this morning, just in case the guy came to replace the old one. Mooched around for a while. Then I got a horoscope email, which said: You will definitely have to take the initiative today if you want the day to go smoothly. The folks in charge don't know as much about things as you do, and they could use a little help... Sitting back and watching them fail might appeal to a certain part of you, but if you do that, you'll only end up suffering in the end too.
Uh-oh, I thought, better see what's happening with this washing machine. Seems like the folks in charge don't know what they're doing. So I emailed the letting agent. An hour and a half later, I was actually having a nap (being exhausted from the early start) when she replied. Seems she emailed me and my flatmate yesterday, after placing the order, to say that they didn't deliver weekends, so it'd have to wait until my (student) flatmate is free, on Thursday. Except she forgot to include me on the email..
(Insert swear word here.) So I'd gone to bed early last night, and gotten up early this morning, for precisely nothing. And now I was wrecked, and hadn't a clear idea what to do for the day. I'd arranged to go to the Bermondsey Carnival with the CLOGgies, whom I met through Meetup, but I could always cancel. I had a look at what else was on, and saw something even more appealing - Ken's Events had something called Dancing in the City of Skyscrapers. Upon closer inspection, it was a series of free, outdoor, dance performances this afternoon in Canary Wharf. So I cancelled the poor CLOGgies, and booked with Ken instead.
Now, I haven't been to Canary Wharf very often, so some research was required. Ken had obligingly summarised the schedule on the event page, but I needed to know locations, as well as how to get there. I figured the journey would take about an hour. Strike me, but it's hard to get a decent map of Canary Wharf! Ironically, once I did get there, they were handing out free newspapers about this Greenwich and Docklands International Festival that's been on for the past week, apparently, and ends tomorrow. Huh, glad I caught it. Mind you, even had I known about it all week, I'd hardly have traipsed out all that way on a weekday.
The main reason that I mention this free newspaper here is that it contained the first decent map of Canary Wharf I'd seen printed! The only other decent ones are on public signs in Canary Wharf itself, but it's very difficult to get your own. I'm keeping this one.. Thing is though, when I was trying, before I left, to find the locations mentioned in the schedule, it was nigh-on impossible for most. Nowhere has a decent map. Google Maps shows all the street detail, but not names of the smaller ones at the zoom level that shows the whole of Canary Wharf. So if you don't know roughly where to look, you're out of luck. Not even the festival website has a map!! I ended up having to Google most of the locations, and persevering until I had an idea where on the map they were.
With all this research, and the lateness of when I found out I had the freedom to go anywhere, of course I knew I'd be late for the 1pm start. I figured I'd see how the day went, but I wasn't bothered about meeting up with the group; I only know one person who was scheduled to go - the organiser - and was more interested in seeing the acts. Anyway, the upshot was, I'd take the Tube. I could've changed to the DLR, but that's as infrequent as the Overground, so I figured the Tube was a better option. Again, the Tube was full of female passengers with fans - either custom-made or improvised. It wasn't so bad on the District Line - but the Jubilee Line was a nightmare. The aircon made enough noise, but I don't believe it blew us a puff of air.
The confusion started immediately I left the train. Which exit should I take? I had a choice of Bank Street or Montgomery Square. I was headed for Canary Riverside - and boy, had I had trouble figuring that one out! It shares its name with a luxury apartment development, y'see. Correctly, I guessed Bank Street, and the maps along the way helped to guide me, as I say.
However, I wasn't expecting how long it would take me to walk there, and by the time I got to Westferry Circus, I realised I wouldn't make it in time for that show - or the one after: and sat on a bench to consider my options.
Well, it turned out that the next after that was in Westferry Circus itself - a performance of the Haka. Fair enough, I thought, and found myself a bench in the shade, on this sunniest of days. As we prepared for the show, dancers in Maori costume came around handing out what I think were mint leaves, to the children.
Most spectators took a spot on the central grass section, and were asked to sit, for the benefit of those behind. Those too feeble to sit all the way down on the ground had plastic chairs procured for them. And we were duly treated to a 15-minute rendition, starting with the most beautiful singing by one of the women, and moving on to the physical actions. The rugby haka we all know and love only comprised the last minute or two, it seemed.
I always think it's wonderfully incongruous to have arts events among office buildings, and I thoroughly enjoyed this. Ahh, I miss New Zealand.. Anyhoo, they'd also handed out cards with the words of the Haka on them, and were going to teach us. But then I saw a curious thing. I saw a woman with a sign that said "Next Show: Follow Me, Journey 3". And when she and her devoted followers left, I followed them - I did have another show to get to, after all. Turns out I ended up following her all day - and not surprisingly, when I looked it up in the free paper this evening; this was the "marathon" journey, seeing all shows, and the only ones I missed were because I arrived late!
So, we schlepped back to Jubilee Plaza, which turns out to be exactly where I left the Tube. Mind you, I was unsure at this point whether I should be following this woman - so I did my own thing, and got lost:
(This is not Jubilee Plaza, it's Canada Square. But it is in roughly the right direction.)
I got there eventually, and saw the most enchanting dance performance. I'd seen in the listings that there were two dancers, but initially only the man came on, searching the crowd. Then he picked on a young woman - who did a marvellous impression of looking shocked and bashful, but I'd recognised her from the photo. And they had a most innovative (and acrobatic) performance, flinging each other about and generally having a whale of a time. Marvellous stuff! Funny with it. Hurycan, they call themselves. And Te Odiero is the name of the show. Look out for them!
After that, I realised that the next show was in the same place, which was handy. So I found myself a spot on the ground, in the shade. And despite the funny smell at ground level, that was pretty good. Apart from the stiffness when I got up. Turn Around Boy was the name of the routine, which featured two men - one initially blindfolded - maneuvering a circus wheel. Compagnie le Grand Jeté performed. Most impressive.
My next move was to the Cubitt Steps, which apparently take their name from an adjacent building, and have a statue at the bottom that divides opinion. As to whether it's art, or just ugly. Anyway, I made it there in time for a tap production, and coming in at the top of the steps, sat there too.
The production comprised six young ladies in 50s beach attire, performing jive, swing, and tap numbers. And had us swaying and clapping in time to the music. Charming stuff! Then it was a rush back to Jubilee Plaza, where I ended up standing at the wrong side, in the sun, for a performance during which I kept checking my watch. It started so similar to Te Odiero that I was sure somebody was plagiarising someone. And much manly swinging about ensued, among the five male dancers - some interesting moves, but the show was over-long (especially as I was being baked!), and most of it uninteresting.
Finally, I followed the lady from Journey 3 to Montgomery Square at last, where we watched a most engaging performance by Parkour, who clambered all over a climbing frame. And I felt myself sizzle in the sun again. Also noticed the (formerly) blindfolded guy from Compagnie le Grand Jeté in the audience - doubtless he appreciated the start of the performance, where they were blindfolded too!
I was damned glad to get back on the Tube. First though, I stopped by the WH Smith in the station - they were doing a roaring trade in cold drinks. The aircon was working on the Jubilee Line on the way back - well, kind of: it was blowing lukewarm air. But it was less crowded now, which helped. And I am so glad to be in, sat in front of a fan, and relaxing..
Tomorrow (mercifully late!) is the London For Less! meeting for the Pop-Up Opera's production of "L' Italiana in Algeri". I've reported to Meetup the difficulty in getting information on this group, and they've responded that they've reproduced the issue.. but no-one in software is working at the weekend! So we'll see whether they can fix it next week.
With everything else I had to do this week, it took days to go through the list of films showing, check their ratings (and whether I could see them cheaper online), and list them in my spreadsheet. It was a relief to get it done in time for yesterday evening! Top of the list for yesterday was The Look of Silence, which I passed on for Wednesday because of the hardship of trekking across town to see it, what with the terrible heat. Well, it was showing closer to home last night - and the weather was cooler anyway - but the problem was, it was only on quite late, and while that normally wouldn't be a problem on a Friday night.. I had to get up early this morning in case the washing machine guy came early!
Mind you, I was quite happy with what came next on the list. Mr. Holmes was rated much higher when it initially opened, and has dropped a bit, but there still wasn't anything else ahead of it for last night. It's been out a little while now, and there isn't quite as much choice of places to see it - but the closest was the Odeon Kensington, at 5.50, and I decided to go there. But then I got caught up at work, didn't get finished until after 6, and the 20-minute walk from the office to the cinema meant that showing wasn't feasible. It didn't have a later showing there, so I checked, and found that it was showing in the Vue Shepherd's Bush at 6.45. Perfect!
I actually had my computer shut off when I remembered that Yplan sells discounted Vue tickets (the offer ends on the 7th, as I recall). Debated whether it was worth waiting for it to reboot, decided it was, and duly logged on, purchased a ticket, and after a short but anxious wait, printed out the reference code and barcode to show at the cinema. You're really supposed to have it on your phone, but the app isn't compatible with mine - my phone is probably considered too old. Anyhoo, it printed decently, and off I went to walk to this cinema instead, in brilliant sunshine. It was slightly longer walk, but I'd get the Overground back home.
It's been a little while, but I remembered the way, and the walk was pleasant enough, apart from the distressed-looking lady who asked whether I'd any cash, as someone had just taken her bag. Sorry ma'am, I've heard of that scam before - someone in the office saw a woman trying the same thing, then saw her on the same street the next day, pleading the same problem. She actually called her on it. And before that, I fell victim to the same thing myself, when I fell for a sob story and gave someone some cash, which she promised to pay back into my Paypal account. Needless to say, months later, I'm still waiting for that. I'm not holding my breath.
I got to the cinema just in time, and after a short queue, was able to present my printed pages to the guy at the till, complete with explanation. (I always print both the barcode, which they're supposed to scan, and the reference number, because the barcode prints too big, and they don't always like to try to scan it.) The code scanned this time, I dumped the printed pages on him, and went to the screen - as usual, I didn't like the seat I'd chosen once I saw it, and sat in the one behind, willing no-one else to have selected it so I'd have to move. They hadn't, it seemed, and I didn't.
After several trailers for films that look rather good (the summer is looking up!), the feature started. Now, this Holmes tale, starring Sir Ian McKellen, deals with the detective in old age, reminiscing about his last case - which was his last because he didn't solve it, so he quit. He now spends his time tending his bees at his house in the country, cared for by his housekeeper, Laura Linney. He becomes close to her son, who encourages him to continue the story he's writing about this last case.. and over the course of the film, flashbacks tell us what happened in it.
It's a beautiful film. It's no wonder the man was knighted - he's a wonderful actor, and a joy to watch. His role changes between his doddery, forgetful, older self, and the still old, but sprightlier, younger and more dapper version of himself, in top hat and tails rather than the scruffy cardigans and pyjamas of his later years. The change is obvious, but perfectly seamless - indeed, you can see how the younger version melded into the older. Yes, by the way, top hat and tails - much of the film deals with the legend of Sherlock Holmes, and according to this version of the character, he never actually wore a deerstalker - that was a figment of Watson's imagination (who, of course, is supposed to have written the tales). Oh, and he used to smoke a pipe, until he became famous for it, and switched to cigars. And the address was faked, for privacy - too many American tourists wanted to visit! ;-) His actual offices were across the road.
There's very little actual detective work in this - it's more the great man coming to the end of his life, and musing that although he understood human actions, he never really understood human nature, and now he finds himself quite lonely. But the film is an absolute delight, and I loved it! Recommended.
On the way out, conscious that I didn't have time for a large meal before bed, I popped into Morrison's, just below the cinema, and bought a chicken roll. Very tasty, and also recommended! Too late to blog last night, of course. And here I am today, and as yet, there's no sign of the washing machine guy, nor any word when he might be coming. So I still don't know what I'm doing today. But at least tomorrow I'm meeting the London For Less! group for the Pop-Up Opera's production of "L' Italiana in Algeri". Despite the best efforts of Meetup, apparently, to hide all mention of the group..! I have reported the issue.
I wasn't supposed to be going out on Wednesday night - but then I got a last minute offer of a free ticket to The Trial, by Kafka, at the Young Vic. Ah well now, that was kind of too good an offer to pass up! And it's not too long a journey - so I decided I'd brave the heat and go.
Indeed, it wasn't that far - but I was glad to get a seat after one stop on the District Line, especially the way the train was lurching. Then I had to change to the Jubilee Line, and didn't get a seat at all - but that was only for two stops. The trains were boiling hot, with many of the female passengers having brought hand fans, which they used vigorously. I was glad to get off at Southwark - until I was hit in the face by a blast of hot air from outside.
Turn right from the station and walk a short distance down The Cut - the Young Vic is on the right-hand side. I got my ticket from the box office, but the house was far from opening - I was very early. So I got a glass of rather peculiar, pink, pinot grigio at the bar. Wouldn't recommend it. Anyway, I managed to get somewhere to sit in the crowded bar, and by the time I was finished, the house was open.
My ticket was upstairs, so I climbed the stairs for entry. The corridor leading to the auditorium is lined with images that really only make sense if you know the story. But they are clever. I was, correctly, told to go in by the first door, but I suspect everyone was told that, because I ended up having everyone at the other end of the row clamber over me to get to their places, when they could just have come in that way..
Seating is on upholstered benches, and wooden partitions segregate the rows - these partitions are new, as far as I remember, and are probably designed to emulate a courtroom. My seat was in an excellent position, halfway along one of the long sides of the rectangular stage, and at the front of the balcony. And oh! the blessed ice-cold air blasting out from the air conditioning. Which was blocked off a bit as more people arrived, but we were ok.
The stage had a curious design, having a keyhole-shaped hole in the middle:
Turned out that this bit was elevated for the play itself, and the stage that was actually used comprised a rather clever conveyor belt, whose speed could be adjusted, and with a non-moving strip along the middle, in case people weren't required to move offstage. Very clever way of getting people and props on- and offstage!
This is a two-hour show, without interval. And yes, that does pose a challenge with the seating, which is ok, but not absolutely the most comfortable. Still. We were fine. The theme of the play is a successful businessman, surprised to find himself arrested one morning. He doesn't know the charge. Neither do the police, it transpires - nor the court; to know what he's accused of would prejudice the verdict. So the verdict must be decided before the charge can be known.
Welcome to the world of Kafka. The storyline is changed slightly from the original, but basically tracks the rapid mental collapse of a previously successful man, faced with a potentially horrendous fate, for an unknown reason, and with no way of knowing what to do to help himself. Everything he tries to do ends in failure. His one path to freedom seems to be to list every misdemeanour he's committed in his life, in order to earn the court's favour. He starts at the age of four.. these confessions are what line the corridor, and they make interesting reading on the way out.
It's Kafka, so it's rather depressing. It's an observation on the frustrations of bureaucracy, and doesn't end well for the poor man. For me, the play dragged a bit - I appreciate the story, and things do hot up when they get worse for him, but the protagonist didn't have enough personality to engage me. Still, kudos to him for enduring two hours straight! Runs until 22 August.
So, I went to Guildford yesterday, and all in all it's been to hectic to blog until now. I finally got this week's film list done.. now, our washing machine is broken and being replaced, and I've had to volunteer to stay in tomorrow to let the guy in. So I potentially have to be up early, which knocks out the film at the very top of the list for tonight, The Look of Silence, which is on too late. Instead, I'm off to Mr. Holmes, which I'll head to straight after work. Sir Ian McKellan plays the aged detective, who's vexed by his last case, which he messed up. Also stars Laura Linney.
Not sure what I'll get to tomorrow, I'll see how it goes. Then on Sunday, of course, I have a ticket with the London for Less! Meetup group to go see the Pop-Up Opera's production of "L' Italiana in Algeri". Looking forward to that.. no idea why their events don't come up in my calendar, though! I got an email notification of this one..
