Live at the Apollo

When: Tuesday 25^th September

Where: Hammersmith Apollo

Why: It was free

Thanks to a little heads-up from the British Comedy Guide on Twitter (@UKComedyNews), I followed a link to get audience tickets to Live at the Apollo and that was basically that. Print out the thing, show up at the place, queue for about 45 mins, just scrape in and score four seats in the second back row. They were filming two shows that evening and although we got a stern talking to at the start about not getting up and wandering around, I think this was pretty much limited just to the few important people down at the front, as upstairs we had a very cavalier attitude to getting up a strolling around the aisles. Very restless bunch.

SHOW ONE featured Lee Nelson as the host (cockneyish, annoying at first but you sort of get used to it), Stewart Francis (one liners can be so exhausting after a while, but some of them were mildly entertaining), and Paul Chowdhry (off of “What’s happening white people?” - very entertaining).

SHOW TWO featured Omid Djalili as the host (I love him but every time a joke failed he shouted “This is funny shit!” then scuffled about hoping they’d cut it out), Julian Clary (oh my actual god, came on in inexplicable stilts, weird joke about breaking up with Rolf Harris, insulted an Olympian, totally bombed and left the stage early. Is he having a nervous breakdown?), and Reginald D. Hunter (thank GOD, a really good, professional, funny one. Hilarious).

Ahh, the view from row Y

There were a few general themes to the evening which made us wonder if all the acts had been copying each other’s notes, including lots and lots of stuff on racism and how it’s actually really funny, and Omid Djalili doing exactly the same joke that Paul Chowdhry had done on doing the same accent back to people (it’s a disease, I do it all the time and my brother used to do it to our Irish priest although that might not have been by mistake).

I’ve just realised I completely forgot to even look out for our episodes on telly. Not sure I’m that bothered about seeing them again to be honest. Though it would be interesting to see how they manage to edit the Julian Clary fiasco…

Brixpig x

Darren Hayes

Photo by Richard Cullen

When: Monday 24^th September

Where: Indigo2 at the O2 Arena

Why: Sixth time’s a charm!

Yep, I’ve seen Darren Hayes in concert six times now. I know this classes me as a full-on pop nerd, but I am unrepentant. He is such a charismatic performer that I know I’m guaranteed a great evening. His voice is as delicious as ever – stronger in fact every time I see him. I had never been to the Indigo2 and it’s a really nice, fairly intimate venue with extremely comfy seats. Bonus. I got a King’s Row VIP seat (because they were the only ones left and weren’t too expensivo), which was exciting because I got to skip the queue for entry and we had our own little bar, also with no massive queues. But it was a bit boring in the VIP bar and there were no actual VIPs in there for me to goggle at. Nice toilets though… I was on my own (again, I realise this adds nothing to my street cred) but I sat with a Budweiser and quietly revved myself up. 

Anyway it was a beautiful evening and I will always love the Hayes. The support were The Candle Thieves (@candlethieves) who were very sweet, twinkly and tuneful and defo worth a listen – especially if you’re a fan of Nizlopi as their lead singer sounds EXACTLY like them. Seriously, it’s mad.

Only downsides were that despite my good view, I was sat behind the world’s most insane dancer, who must win the prize for ‘fan most desperate to get the artist’s attention’. The fact that she did get a wave at the end will surely only reinforce her RIDICULOUS moves and make her keep going, and for this I feel sorry for anyone who has the misfortune to sit behind her in the future. It’s impossible to describe, but I’ll stick my video up and you will be able to see what I mean. It wasn’t intended to capture her moves, but inevitably it did because she was UNAVOIDABLE.

Other sad point was that the set-list was almost identical to that of his last concert (which I was obviously at). While I realise that he is touring the same album, I had thought the point of this tour was to showcase some of the songs that hadn’t been performed at the last gig. But apparently not. It was ok because it’s a great set (apart from the We Are Smug cabaret number in the middle – once was enough for that, seriously) but I was a little bit disappointed. As was the chap next to me, who I had bonded with through mutual hatred of crazed dancing woman in front of us.

Still. Any gig that ends on a mash-up of Instatiable and Rhythm is a Dancer is a gig I need to be at.

Brixpig x

Hedda Gabler

When: Monday 10^th September

Where: Old Vic

Why: Smith, Reid, Scarborough – can’t go wrong 

10th September was the last night I could have a cheap under-25 ticket at the Old Vic (or indeed any theatre with an under-25 ticket offer) so I decided to make the most of this devastating occasion by popping in to see their production of Hedda Gabler. Fundamentally, I really enjoyed it and thought it was a fascinating version of the play, supported by a proper good cast. My main issue was with the new translation by Brian Friel which at times I just found infuriating. I did enjoy the comedic element that was brought out in this version, and the small touches of it seemed natural and a welcome addition to what has to be one of the most intense plays ever. If only it had been left at that though.

The randomly added lengthy diversions about Tesman’s slippers and later his mad (if hilarious) reaction to the news of Hedda’s pregnancy were just a bit too obvious. I don’t think in the original that it’s ever mentioned explicitly that she is pregnant, but it’s all sly hints and guesswork, which is surely the point. Here it’s brought up super obviously right from the start and it’s all too much, as if this becomes Hedda’s sole motivation for ending things, which is not the case. Although important I think it’s given too much weight in this version.

The main problem with the script (I’m aware I’m being hilariously presumptuous but I say what I see) was just that a lot seemed to be laid on the line and explained in thorough, unnecessary and inappropriate detail, going pretty much against the entire point of the character of Hedda and the nature of the play itself. The script has been described as “heavy-handed” and not leaving enough to the imagination, which is absolutely accurate. I don’t especially want Hedda Gabler chatting on about her deepest psychological reasonings for her behaviour, essentially telling us all exactly what’s going on in her head rather than letting it come out naturally. I didn’t mind the explanation that she sometimes seems possessed by a devil, but that line itself would have been enough, without a further five minutes of soul-baring. Hedda just doesn’t do that. By the end, she becomes openly hysterical and almost pathetic, when the point is that this should all be bubbling under the surface rather than collapsed out on the lap of the audience. That’s why Hedda is such a notorious part to play and requires an actress who’s a master of complexity.

However. All this is not at all to say that Sheridan Smith isn’t a match for the role. Very much the opposite in fact. What she does with this sometimes stupid script is beautifully consistent and a presentation of a lighter, more vulnerable Hedda. I’ve only seen the play once before, at a screening at the V&A in March of the Eve Best and Benedict Cumberbatch version. That was definitive and dark and I loved it. It’s also hard to compare to this production (not only because I saw it on a screen rather than in real life) but because the Best version was much more traditional. Smith’s Hedda hides and shrinks, seems almost trapped, snapping and reacting to what’s happening to her, rather than the more traditional approach of a strident, bold presence rampaging around her cage which is how we see Best. Great to have seen both interpretations though, and interesting to see the vulnerability that Smith brings to Hedda which simply isn’t present in Best’s. Other reviewers have pointed out Sheridan Smith’s eyes, and if you’re close enough to see them they are enormously captivating and characterful. They pull you in and invite you to stare into Hedda’s soul (again, not something you could have done with Eve Best’s Hedda) – they literally sparkle not only with tears but in turn with rage, malice, fear, frustration and laughter. She manages to capture and demonstrate the real tragedy of knowing your own character all too well and the inevitable pain that comes from that. Which I would say is the most important part of Hedda Gabler’s personality and is why Smith succeeds at the role.

Sneaky stage photo

The one benefit of the heightened comedy in this version is the juxtaposition of the dark and light that comes across so effectively. The crazed inappropriateness of Tesman’s delighted prancing at Hedda’s pregnancy revelation so closely and uncomfortably followed by her tragic end is representative of the nature of the entire play. The tension between the jokes and the audience’s rising anticipation is impeccably done. We see this in the way Hedda’s bright smile instantly falls from her face when she’s alone, showing her two sides and the fact that in this play everything is about fate and is constantly balancing on knife edge. There is constant movement in the staging, everyone trotting through doors opening and closing them again (also hinting at the secrets which are contained everywhere in the house) and the disturbance shown in the dramatically billowing curtains. It’s very effectively played and there’s a modernness to the movement and how they all fit together.

As mentioned, Smith is brilliant, but the rest of the cast provide some great performances too. Adrian Scarborough is so funny as the bumbling George Tesman, and the role (in this more comedic version) is ideally suited to his subtly lovable style. I was also excited to see Anne Reid in the (all too small) role of Auntie JuJu – she’s just such a quality performer and greatly suited to the kindly dignity of this role. Fenella Woolgar as Thea was also impressive and added so many more dimensions to this role. Her dramatic pose facing directly out to the audience at the end clutching the notes of Loevborg’s destroyed book is full of purpose and intent, and gives the impression that there’s so much more to come in the story and makes you wish there was a sequel. Daniel Lapaine as Loevborg was appropriately desperate and confused, but Darrell D’Silva as Judge Brack wasn’t quite as dignified or menacing as he could have been. The completely random addition of his love for American jive talk didn’t really work at all, and didn’t seem to lend anything in particular to us understanding his character any more. Time Out describe this version of Brack as “about as sexually threatening as a cardigan” which made me burst out laughing and is pretty accurate.

I love Ibsen’s portrayals of women taking control in the only ways they know how or are able – as Nora in A Doll’s House leaves and takes her destiny finally into her own hands, here too Hedda undertakes the act of supreme control over her life in her (pleasingly gory) final act.

All in all it is an engaging and intriguing production and I would heartily recommend you go. It’s worth it just for Sheridan Smith alone – she really is supremely talented.

Brixpig x

Vauxhall Roller Disco

When: Saturday 8th September

Where: Vauxhall, under a bridge

Why: What better way to celebrate turning 26 than on wheels?

I heard about the roller disco from an old work friend, who spent her birthday there last year, and it seems that everyone has heard of it but not many people have actually been. You should go. You get to dress up, get involved with a glow stick or two, and they play amazing 70s and retro music as well as more modern stuff (and as we discovered, brilliant mash-ups). So I gathered my favourite people for a birthday extravaganza: a dinner of amazing burgers and the best rum and chocolate milkshakes around at Bukowski (@BukowskiGrill) in Market Row, a quick spot of neon face painting and a whole lot of skating.

I had cockily assumed I’d be alright at rolling around as I can ice-skate a bit, but boy was I wrong. Totes different technique. I was almost instantly seized on by an “instructor” who got my evening off to a terrible start by bossing the crap out of me and refusing to leave me alone (or help me up when she basically made me fall over). I have an irrational aversion to being told what to do and so I got into a strop and had to sit down with a beer for a while before braving the floor again (and staying away from her). After that things massively improved, we all got into our stride and headed for the speedier rink at the back (there are two, one for beginners and one for the reckless) and had a zoom around in the dry ice. We ended up skating for over three hours (with pauses for a bottle of Ginger Joe in between, obv) which I was fairly impressed with, and no serious injuries were sustained. I fell over four times, and woke up the next day literally crippled. I had to drag myself to the loo in the morning bent double and unable to flex any limb. It was worth it though, and the evening was super fun. The atmosphere was lovely (apart from some grumpy staff) and it wasn’t too full which was great, lots of space to hurtle into people. The music was absolutely brilliant and exactly my taste (this was a Saturday night – I think it varies on different nights). The toilets were hilariously difficult to navigate on wheels, but it was all part of the entertainment. I would definitely recommend it and will be straight back there once my limbs have recovered.

The rest of my birthday weekend passed in similarly dignified fashion, as we travelled in style on the Brockwell Park little train (@BrockwellTrain) for the second year running. This is a new yearly tradition I’m coercing my friends into, but I think they secretly love it. Or they love me enough to pretend they do, which is the main thing. We were recognised from last year and the train’s owners have said that if I let them know when we’re coming next year, they’ll get me a card! Love the little train. I also got to sit at the front with the driver and toot the horn, which was a blast. The kids were so jealous. I just think the train is the cutest thing ever and advise anyone, kidlet or grownup, to go for a ride if you’re in the area (quick, before it closes for winter!).

Brixpig x

The Further Tale of Peter Rabbit: Book Signing

When: Thursday 6th September

Where: Selfridges toy department

Why: Emma Thompson is my one true love

As I was aimlessly wandering downstairs in Selfridges in search of a financial notebook (you know, like those little red ones that taxi drivers used to have to note down all their fares? Like income and outgoings etc. Trying to organise my pennies) while my mother had her eyebrows done at Estee Lauder, I spotted a sign in the WHSmiths concession (I know, I know – I’m a traitor to Waterstones) with Emma Thompson’s face on. So I went to have a look and when I saw that it was for a book signing I almost fell over on the spot. Imagine if I hadn’t seen that sign? Suddenly I was grateful for my mother’s obsession with her eyebrows and all the years of lurking sullenly around department store makeup counters became (almost) worth it.

Basically, I love Emma Thompson. I have loved her since GCSE English when we watched Kenneth Branagh’s Much Ado About Nothing (I have also loved Kenneth since then but as he has yet to sign any books in my presence, this story is not about him). She is a screen goddess and I admire her with every particle of my soul.

Anyway, so I met her. She was signing copies of her new children’s book, The Further Tale of Peter Rabbit. She was commissioned to write it by Peter Rabbit himself, no less (with the aid of his publishers I think) and she takes Peter on a journey to Scotland. There he meets an enormous, be-kilted bunny who takes him in and shows him the ways of the Highland games. Peter finds an enormous radish and gets seriously involved, and hilarity ensues. It’s a very sweet read and feels very authentic to the original Peter Rabbit stories. I’m sure Beatrix would approve, and their writing styles are not very far removed from each other – both dry, funny and tender.

Emma T was sporting a long tartan dress in the same pattern as the tartan inside the book, as well as one radish and one carrot earring. She was very striking and charismatic, and every bit as you would imagine her to be. She was kind and engaging and I basically just burbled out that I was so glad to meet her, then stumbled away and reeled slightly into a man dressed as an enormous Peter Rabbit, who gave me a steadying hug. Which was nice. Squishy.

What a day.

Brixpig x

Jumpy

When: Monday 27th August

Where: Duke of York’s Theatre

Why: TAMSIN GREIG

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – day tickets are the BEST. Granted we got to the Duke of York’s at 9am and the box office didn’t open until noon (cheers for that, bank holiday), but after a sunny morning stroll around Cov G we wandered back and queued for a bit and got front row seats for a tenner. The only thing I will say is that day tickets apply to the front two rows, which are orchestra pit rows, and I would probably go for the second row in future. You’re basically IN the stage, by which I mean my nose was in touching distance of the edge. At one point, Tamsin Greig’s character is curled up weeping at the front of the stage, and I could have genuinely reached out to give her a comforting pat. Which was actually quite cool. But a bit hard on the neck. You can see the whole stage though, just sort of from the feet up. Better to be too close than at the back though (cf. my row X experience at Wicked).

Jumpy is a new play by April de Angelis and is centred around the relationship between a mother who has just turned 50, and a rebellious teenage daughter. In some ways, it’s a fairly standard storyline, not especially original, but it is written very engagingly and will resonate with essentially anyone who has a woman in their family (so... all humans then).

The plot manages to pack stuff in and there’s some pretty dramatic stuff in there, including teenage pregnancies, running away, affairs, marital issues, gunshots and cradle-snatching. Very much the drama of everyday life. Tamsin Greig is brilliantly suited for this role, and it’s made for her particular strengths of portraying gritty emotion and combining strength and vulnerability in a very relatable character. She’s just such a classy actress and you know you’re always guaranteed a quality performance when you see her. The chemistry with her on-stage daughter (expertly and spiritedly played by Bel Powley) was also sparky and believable. The daughter’s teenage friend was also really excellently played by Seline Hizli who gave a very touching and funny performance of a daffy but loving teenage mother.

Another big plus for this producation was Doon Mackichan (yes! Off of Smack the Pony and Celebrity Fame Academy!) She plays the best friend and is a right old hoot. She has a belly-laugh-inducing striptease routine which had me in stitches throughout and for about 10 minutes after it was over. Needless to say her character is treating the old 5-0 with an altogether different approach to her married friend, and her attempts to win round the chaps are hilarious.

The thing I noticed about this play was that every single actor was really excellent and it was such a standout group performance, which I have hardly ever seen in a play and certainly none since I’ve been in London. It was such a relief to be able to relax into the play and just let everyone’s marvellousness wash over me. That was what made the play such a great experience I think, having the confidence just to get right into it and not be conscious of some rubbish person in the background the whole time.

I massively recommend and at £10 for day seats I will definitely be back before the run ends on 3^rd November.

Brixpig x

Wicked

When: Saturday 25th August

Where: Apollo Victoria

  

Why: Day tickets and to please my mum

The last (and first) time I saw Wicked I was sat in row X. Of the circle. To picture how far away that is, imagine watching a play that’s being performed on the other side of the Thames from you. It’s about that far. So to grab a day ticket in the front row was awesome and also made the show an entirely different experience. In the sense that I was able to distinguish facial expressions and people’s gender. And we only had to queue for about 90 minutes with a mad Korean woman who kept speaking to us in French and inviting us to her fabulous Paris flat for a holiday (it was a trial but worth it).

If you don’t know the story of Wicked then I’m not interested in explaining it to you (you should reassess your life) and will simply direct you to the detailed plot description on Wikipedia that I also made my mum read. All I will say is that this time I actually bought the soundtrack afterwards (off Amazon, much cheaper than getting it from the theatre – I’m not mental) and listened to it every day for about two weeks. At least. Including one full weekend of singing along to it as I zoomed down country lanes with my pal Nikki and others with similar good taste in soundtracks.

This time I could tell that it definitely was Mat Willis from Busted who was playing Fiyero, the main boy lead, and he was really, really good. Who knew? He has grown into a hottie who can genuinely act (and sing, but we knew that, kind of). His many tattoos also really worked, as the character in the book (YES, I’ve read it) is a tribal prince who is meant to be covered in multi-coloured diamonds. So that was geekily pleasing to me. Louise Dearman is also excellent as Glinda – she’s just as multi-faceted and complex a character to play as Elphaba, and although the actresses are definitely equals in terms of talent in this show, I think I’d always end up being more drawn to Elphaba as the darker character, and to Rachel Tucker who represents her so perfectly.

Tucker is just SO GOOD. We used to watch her every week on I’d Do Anything, the Nancy finding programme (“You’re ALL THE COLOURS OF NANCY”) and note that although she had the best voice, she wasn’t right for Nancy. And we were right. But she is perfect for Elphaba. Her real accent is Irish and this makes her stage English accent a bit more husky and quirky, fitting for Elphaba. Her voice is perfect and so powerful but not overwhelming, full of emotion and character. Yay for Rachel. She’s finishing soon and I may have to go and see her again before she goes. As my friend Charles is always lamenting, that’s the rubbish thing about theatre – you can see the most amazing performances on earth, but hardly ever get to see them again as they’re not recorded (or if they are, you can’t usually get your own copy). Sad times.

Anyway. Go. Enjoy. Be Wicked.

Brixpig x

Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

When: Friday 24th August

Where: ThreeSixty Theatre, Kensington Gardens

Why: NARNIA

You may know that I wrote my undergraduate dissertation on C. S. Lewis and that my dearest wish as a child was to be able to bury my face in Aslan’s mane like Susan and Lucy do in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. There was no way I could not go and see this play, especially because we got half price tickets on lastminute.com so it was super bargainous. I went with my mum when she was down for the bank hol (this is the first in a three-play installment from that weekend – we went on a bit of a theatre spree) and we had a brilliant time. The theatre’s inside a big round marquee with tiered seats, which is set up with picnic benches and Narnia lamposts all around it, in the shadow of Kensington Palace (where Princess Di lived for a bit, which did set my mum off on a slightly melancholy reminisce about her tragic life... bit of a downer). It’s a beautiful location though and I was so impressed with the theatre itself, even if the play had been crap I would have enjoyed my surroundings just as much.

The magic of the ThreeSixty Theatre is that the production is played in the round, which I always like, and images are projected on the inside of the tent above you, all the way round (360 degrees, in fact). This added so much atmosphere during the play – we really felt like we were in the Beavers’ dam or Mr Tumnus’s cave thanks to the graphics. They weren’t the most technically brilliant images, and were a bit basic, but were effective nonetheless and I suppose it must be fairly challenging to project all the way round an enormous marquee.

The play begins with the game of hide and seek that ends up with Lucy in the famous wardrobe, and involves the audience who have to count up to 10 as the wardrobe rises up around Lucy and transports her to Narnia. The four Pevensie children are played by baby-faced adults which was probs a good move, and they all gave solid performances. The script was good and lots of dialogue was close to the book which was pleasing and kept a simplicity and truthfulness to the story which was needed.

Brian Protheroe as the Professor, whose face you will definitely know even if the name isn’t familiar (he was Mr Bell in North and South which I think is where I knew him from), was pleasingly wise and insightful, and looked cracking in his dressing gown. The White Witch was played by Sally Dexter, who was ok at being menacing on occasion, but for the most part I found her to be just a bit camp (her mad red lipstick didn’t do much in her favour either). But then I suppose it’s impossible to beat Tilda Swinton in the film version, who was perfect. I appreciate I’m coming across as an enormous geek here.

Big shout out to the costume department whose animal creations were works of genius. The director, Rupert Goold, said that he wanted the production to have a rougher and more elemental feel and this was definitely reflected in the sort of Inuit-y outfits of the Beavers in particular. But all the creatures were great – the wolves with their weird crutch-like forearms allowing them to crawl around, and the tree spirits who slunk around on stilts and posed themselves around the edge of the stage. During the fight scene the flying creatures were also very impressive, swirling themselves around on ribbons from the ceiling. The staging was very creative actually, with an excellent use of trapdoors and the spinning stage.

One slightly low point were the songs, I can’t lie to you. It wasn’t exactly a musical but every now and then they did all burst into song. They weren’t too bad but there were no memorable tunes and none of it really captured me, and some of it was just plain awkward – I think the songs were probably what let the production down as a whole, and if they’d been of a higher standard it could have took the show to a whole new level of amazingness.

But the real star was Aslan who was just freaking amazing. He was a War Horse style puppet, propelled about by three people and voiced by the Poirot legend that is David Suchet (BRILLIANT Aslan voice. Even better than Liam Neeson – again, see film version). His movements were so subtle and perfectly executed (ooh, maybe wrong choice of word there given what happens to him later...), down to the swinging of his tail to the nodding of his head. He was even BREATHING. I was apprehensive about the death scene and not sure how it was physically going to work, espesh on a round stage where trickery can get a bit tricky. But they totally pulled it off, using a stone table with hollow legs that the actors disappeared into, only to run on again literally seconds later in a new Aslan costume, all resurrected and roaring splendidly. (I mean, I’m imagining that’s how they did it – it’s possible that it was actual deep magic going on in front of me. Who can say.) I was very impressed with him and although he didn’t look very cuddly, the way he moved was endearing and he had by far the most stage presence of any of the cast (as it should be).

It was such a unique theatre experience and really well put together, and proved extremely popular with the audience, who were made up of just as many grown-ups as children. I’m just gonna go there and say it was MAGICAL.

Brixpig x

The Taming of The Shrew

When: Friday 17th August

Where: The Globe

Why: Standing in a crowd for 3 and a half hours? Count me in!

What I know about the Shrew comes mainly from the modern BBC version starring Moaning Myrtle and the beautiful bear-man that is Rufus Swell, and from seeing Kiss Me Kate at uni. Oh and also the generation-defining 10 things I hate about you, obviously. So I had a pretty firm grasp on the old story, but was looking forward to seeing a traditional version. And if we’re basing tradition solely on the size of a ruff, I was pretty well in there.

We planted ourselves at the end of the ramp, which meant a great view (no tall heads in front of us) and an enjoyable trampling by members of the cast who were continuously bounding through the groundlings and hopping onto the stage, which was brilliant (at one stage, Kat and Petruchs were just standing next to us watching the play). I love going to the Globe, they’re so chilled and creative. The olde band were giving us a song before it began, and there was a little skit involving Simon Paisley Day (who went on to play Petruchio) dressed as a beer-swilling lout stumbling through the audience being chased by harassed staff members and eventually passing out on the stage (my mate who had seen it before didn’t give this away so muggins here thought it was actually happening... Captain Gullible at your service).

This performance boasted a very strong cast, which was underpinned by the brilliant Samantha Spiro and Simon Paisley Day, whose chemistry and, shall we say, vigorous performances propelled the whole show at break-neck speed. I only knew Spiro from Simon Amstell’s uncomfortable (but quite funny) real-lifey comedy Grandma’s House, where she sports a tremendous lady ’tache. She played what came across as a rage-filled, frustrated, trapped, perverse and basically stompy Katherine, which I thought worked well with the fact of the production being played straight rather than ironically. Paisley Day seemed to relish every single second of what is, let’s face it, a pretty great role for a boy, and he was completely shameless and unphased in every scene (his red thong caused the woman next to me to completely collapse in hysterics at regular intervals). The two of them had some just brilliant physical comedy and fight scenes, involving plentiful writhing and struggling, and their whole relationship was totally captivating.

The sisterly relationship with Bianca was also very realistically played, with the younger sibling outwardly meek and daddy’s girl-ing all over the place, winding Katherine up behind her father’s back, and she was expertly played by Sarah MacRae. I also loved Pearce Quigley’s performance as the downtrodden Grumio – his kicking the bucket joke had everyone in stitches no matter how many times he did it (it went on for a while). As soon as I saw him I was chuffed, as I loved him in the BBC’s Cutting It as the hangdog Eugene.

I can’t say much else other than that I enjoyed every minute of the play, even Katherine’s super-awkward broken woman speech at the end, when my back was starting to bend from so much standing. There was much chuckling and men poking their female companions during the most outrageously misogynistic bits, and although it’s not a plot that sits spectacularly well with modern sensibilities, there was a sense of the audience being able to take it for what it was and laugh at themselves and at the little bits which ring true with the gender stereotypes we still hang on to.

Woo for Shrew.

Brixpig x

Birthday

When: Tuesday 7th August

Where: Royal Court

Why: Stephen Mangan

I’d never been in the Royal Court theatre before, but had glimpsed it when diving into Sloane Square tube station after trips to the Liz Earle shop and admired its retro frontage (oi oi). Inside it’s a little maze, with cafes and lifts and staircases and bookshops all extremely charmingly dotted around corners. Inside the theatre itself was brilliantly old-mannish, with steel pillars and brown leather seats that wouldn’t look out of place on the set of Top Gear. Big fan of the decor. I also enjoyed our seats which were in the slips (that’s round the side, for you and I) and apparently limited view, but which actually gave us a unique look over the hospital bed which had its back to the audience. This bed contained a surreptitious Stephen Mangan, who was either pretending to be asleep or had learnt from past experience that fans might try to pull faces at him from above, as we were doing. My theatre buddy Charles (@cakespeareuk) had procured us a £12 ticket and we were ready to roll.

Basically this is a play about role reversal and a pregnant man. If you ever had a hankering to see a swollen hairy belly bouncing towards you, or a bloke begging for an epidural, this was the play for you. The obvious physical issues re: men bearing children were briefly covered but mainly glossed over, as the point I think was to see how men and women react differently in the same situation, rather than a realistic futuristic possibility. The rotating stage whizzed round to show the passing of time and the small space worked really well to help the audience feel the claustrophobia of a couple stuck in the same hospital room for hours and hours.

The wife (patient, chippy, anxious and detatched with worry from their first child) talks the husband through the stages of birth and ends up pretty much going through it all again vicariously through his wild and enthusiastic whining. After hours of negligence by the hilariously dispassionate nurse played by Llewella Gideon (who I only knew becuase she played Scary Spice in the Comic Relief version of Who Do You Think You Are many years ago), the baby has to be emergency caesarian-ed, catches MRSA, and another seemingly incompetent nurse bears the brunt of their rage and distress – after which follows a brilliant scene involving surgical gloves and Milk Tray being chucked around the hospital room.

It’s a new play (by Joe Penhall) and has moments of hilarity combined with spots of real feeling. I didn’t find myself getting that sucked into it emotionally – maybe because of all the frustration and rage and shouting, but it was pretty funny. I get the feeling that in the hands of a lesser-known male lead, it might end up as a fairly mediocre viewing experience, but thanks to Mangan’s expertise (the role seems basically made for his particular brand of comedic vulnerability) it was overall an enjoyable experience.

I’d say go and see it, but it’s over now so you can’t (yeah, sorry about that). 

                

Brixpig x

Dalston Street Feast

When: Friday 3rd August

Where: Dalston

Why: Team outing with work

As we dodged our way through the car park and edged past a people carrier advertising itself as a ‘LOCOG official sex tours’ vehicle (nope, no idea…), I began to wonder where my colleague had brought us... But as we reached the Street Feast, which appeared before me basically as a concrete rectangle of deliciousness, I breathed in a sigh of both relief and barbecue-smokey goodness.

I love you Sorbitium.

Stalls ranged from Jamaican jerk fare, to burgers, kebab wraps and veggie curries, as well as a stupendous offering from The Rib Man and his “holy fuck” hot sauce. I went for a cheeseburger from the very friendly ladies at the Korean kimchi stall (@kimchicult) which was salty, meaty fabulousness. I followed this with a double scoop of HEAVEN from Sorbitium Ices (@sorbitiumices), sampling the cipriani chocolate (dark, smooth and sort of caramel-y) and watermelon, rose & lime sorbet (light, fragrant and angelic).

Happy bellies.

Brixpig x

Mack and Mabel

When: Wednesday 1^st August

Where: Southwark Playhouse

M & M

Why: LOVE the soundtrack

This production of Mack and Mabel seems to have divided audiences and critics alike – even my mate Nikki and I found at the interval that we were having completely different experiences. The show itself is known to be imperfect and problematic in its narrative and characters, as well as the fact that it exists in several different forms. This version definitely hasn’t solved those problems, although director Thom Southerland’s version set the whole show in Mack’s memory, which was a clever touch. Although it was a generally enjoyable experience, I’m definitely erring on the side of the critical at the mo.

Laura Pitt-Pulford as Mabel was erratically pleasing and her voice was completely brilliant. She also stood out from a cast of otherwise seriously, seriously questionable American accents (I genuinely thought Mack, played by Norman Bowman, was doing a Scottish accent for the first half). Mack is supposed to be supremely charismatic despite his boorishness and single-minded selfishness in pursuit of making movies, which is a challenge for any actor, I grant you, but I wasn’t convinced by Bowman. He played the husky, regretful and emotionally stunted aspects of Mack well, but didn’t really match it with the big personality and big performance – just with empty shouting and a mediocre singing voice. Which was a bit of a shame. However, the supporting cast shone as an ensemble, and the chorus numbers were fantastically choreographed, especially in quite a restricted space, and their energy and panache was properly impressive. Jessica Martin as Lottie was the true stalwart of the show and was pleasingly Bonnie Langford-esque in her performance (that’s a compliment).

Fabulous chorus.

It’s a fringe theatre so I expected it to be a bit grungy, and the Vault at the Southwark Playhouse certainly is that – but it’s also awesome, inventive and atmospheric. The sound of the trains rumbling overhead somehow manages to contribute to the experience, and the staging and visuals of the set were really great. On the downside, all the actors were mic-ed and seemingly turned up to max volume which was far from ideal, and often even so found themselves battling with the band (who were also being piped in from backstage – SO far from ideal). The seats were unbelievably uncomfortable, which, call me old fashioned, but I think is quite a vital issue – if you’re squirming around throughout, it has to take away from the performances somewhat, especially if the whole spectacle isn’t thrilling enough to distract you from your twitching legs and the stabbing pains in your arse. However, we were given free cheese at the bar in the interval, which went a long way to soothing my wounded body.

As I think will always be the case until the end of time (or until the day my dreams come true and the leads are played by Nikki and John Barrowman), the true stars of this show are the songs. The score is just amazing. The fabulous, unbeatable overture, as made famous by Torvill and Dean, is amongst my top played on iTunes, and Wherever he ain’t has to be the ultimate kick-ass break-up song. I won’t send roses is essentially the entire plot summed up in a few poignant verses, and the brilliantly random Tap your troubles away always makes me laugh (even despite the fact that is it has been tainted improved for me forever by Acorn Antiques’s alternative version, the ‘Tip Top Tap’). So in that sense it’s always worth seeing this show just for the music alone, and this cast did do them justice, for the most part.

I like the theatre’s chilled out style and aeroplane-style pricing for seats (earlier you buy the cheaper they are, show up and sit anywhere scenario), but I was 50/50 torn between enjoyment and beady-eyed criticism the whole way through, which made it – combined with the seats – a literally uncomfortable experience in general. Not sure I’d go again. Sad face.

Brixpig x

Zoo Lates

When: Friday 27^th July

Where: ZSL London Zoo

Why: Partying with penguins – who would say no?

Every year during June and July, ZSL opens its doors on Friday evenings to those who fancy an evening of face painting, ridiculous costumes, boozing with baboons, lolling with llamas and grooving with gorillas (sorry, got carried away). My companion heard one of the security guards describing the attraction’s main audience as ‘yuppie stoner’, which I think was a reasonably fair assessment.

Entertainments included beer stalls and a Pimm’s garden complete with deck chairs and a Pimm’s peddler dressed only in red Speedos, silent disco and merry-go-round, and standard zoo activities such as watching the animals get their dinner. The feeding show left us feeling sorry for the zoo staff who were attempting to be both banterous and informative to a gobby, well-on-their-way-to-drunk audience, but what else can you realistically expect when you combine lager and penguins?

This lad was the star of the show.

We also took in some of the improv comedy in the aquarium, by a group called Austentatious (brilliant name), who didn’t fail to impress and generally kept the crowd in order – apart from perhaps yours truly, who always gets carried away with suggestions at improv comedy events…

My ‘early bird’ ticket was pure bargainous at £10, and I’ll definitely be heading back next year (with a big group of people and a picnic).

Brixpig x

Mt. Wolf

I've been listening to this song basically all day, so had to add it. This is Mt. Wolf, who we saw at the Coveryard (see below). 

Beaut.

Brixpig x

The Coveryard

When: Saturday 21^st July 2012

Where: St Peter’s Church, Notting Hill

Why: My mate was singing and ukulele-ing – how could I refuse?

A gorgeous evening of music and new discoveries. St Peter’s in Notting Hill is a fabulously preserved church, brilliantly adapted inside for musical purposes, and a captivatingly orange hue on the outside. Bit Mediterranean. It also looked beautiful inside, lit by hundreds of tea lights – good work whoever lit all of those, and sorry for accidentally plunging my finger into one of them almost as soon as I entered.

We settled on comfy rugs and cushions in front of the altar, unscrewed our booze (BYO in a church, win win) and prepared our ears for an onslaught of beauteous tunes. The evening was collection of musicians brought together to showcase their own tunes and various innovative covers, accompanied by a talented orchestra and choir (+ ukes). All the performances were of such a high standard and the song choices were inspired – covers included a re-worked version of Greensleeves, Teardrop by Massive Attack, The Smiths’s There is a light that never goes out, and some Usher was chucked in there too. Eclectic is the word.

Obviously my friend Nikki was the true star of the show, but I also discovered some seriously great new musicians. Personal fave was the incredibly inventive Abi Wade, who takes multi-tasking to a whole new level – she plays the cello, sings, does percussion all at once, basically every limb and probably every particle of concentration is used up, and the result is lush. I also loved Mt. Wolf, who covered Teardrop which was my song of the evening, and their lead singer’s voice had a kind of Scandinavian sound to it (even though she’s English I think) – their music is divine and I seriously advise you to have a listen. We also heard from Faith Taylor who was more folky and sounded a bit like a grungy Kate Rusby – very talented and impressive.

This was the first Coveryard event, and hopefully the first of many, as it was so well received by the crowd and genuinely so enjoyable and chilled out. Massive congrats to all involved. Hooray.

See below for a cracking cover of Eleanor Rigby (sung by Georgina Hunt) which was demanded as the encore for the night. This is my video, so it's not great, but bear with.

Brixpig x

A Doll's House

When: Wednesday 18^th July 2012

Where: Young Vic

Why: Bargain £10 ticket procured by my pal @cakespeareuk

The Young Vic is so cool. It’s such a young person’s, vibrant, funky theatre. Love the balcony bar and the bench seats. Big fan. And the play wasn’t bad either. I’d seen A Doll’s House once at uni: a production starring my (petite, dainty) friend as the maid, where she had inexplicably been forced to wear a fat suit. I’m afraid the hilarity of this somewhat distracted from the content of the play, but I do remember finding the subject matter intriguing – wife plays up to the typical wifely, dependant, daffy creature for the sake of her husband, but eventually goes mental with the strain of it all and chucks him in. Very good story stuff.

I knew I knew Hattie Morahan’s face but didn’t try and find out where from until after the play – turns out it was from Outnumbered. She plays the main role of Nora and she is so charismatic and convincing in managing to be simultaneously emotionally repressed, manipulative and still kind of charming. She has a brilliantly expressive face and a great way of transferring the meaning of her words straight into the heads of the audience. She also completely led the show, and was only upstaged for a few minutes when the baby was brought onto the stage – cue loud and sustained coos from the audience as it gurgled and chuckled. Not sure how they managed to find such a well-trained child – our theory was that they had a row of babies backstage from which they selected the most cheerful when it was time to go on. That’s what I would do. The little boy actors were also pretty good, which was a blessing as kids on stage in supporting roles generally annoy me (see for evidence the blank-eyed boy in the Duchess of Malfi. Only exception obviously is Matilda, where all the kidlets are stupdendous.)

The other stars of the show, as pretty much every reviewer has pointed out, were the stage and the music. A genius revolving stage kept the production fluid and dynamic, and projected little scenes of family life giving a really effective domestic and homely impression. This was combined with rousing, emotional music which was just excellent. I’d also been reading the play before I went, and noticed that the version we were seeing was slightly different – a new translation by Simon Stephens which was more modern, colloquial and direct, and which was exactly right for the mood of this production.

The final scene where Nora breaks free from her husband and obligations, and denounces pretty much everything in her world, from morals to religion to duty, was incredibly powerful and not overworked as it might have been. I thought Morahan was as convincing as it’s possible to be with what is basically a really quick transformation of outlook on life – I overheard a few audience members arguing that it just isn’t realistic to change so completely so suddenly. But I think that sometimes things that have been building up in a head for years and years, even subconsciously, can suddenly snap – and when they do things can never be the same again. So in that sense Nora’s rebellion is supremely realistic. I also LOVE the lines which pretty much sum up the entire plot:

Helmer: I would gladly work night and day for you, Nora – bear sorrow and want for your sake. But no man would sacrifice his honour for the one he loves.

Nora: It is a thing hundreds of thousands of women have done.

Ibsen was so insightful and ahead of his time and just generally a total lad.

Brilliant brilliant play. Loved it. Even without a comedy fat suit.

Brixpig x