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