Antony and Cleopatra x4

When: 21st May, 4th June, 12th Aug, 24th Aug (not at all excessive)

 

Where: The Globe

 

Why: Eve Best 

Greedy Globe ducks

The Globe is my happy place. Leaning on the stage, breathing in the scent of warm wood (and sometimes choking on excessive incense smoke), usually with my friend Charles (@cakespeareuk) by my side and a tummy full of groundling queue cake (wrested from the beaks of the riverside ducks who will harass you for snacks), and in perfect confident anticipation of beauteous things to come. You can’t not smile constantly, even when you’re in a see-through Globe poncho and the rain is pouring into your shoes (and eyes). And you’ve paid a teeny fiver for the privilege. I’ve paid more than that for a pint and much as I love an ale, it’s no contest which is better value.

 

We hit the groundling pit on the first night of Clive Wood’s unfortunate illness and so were treated to the hurriedly acquired stand-in Antony in the form of John Light, who rose to the occasion magnificently. He was impressive, handsome (weyy) and held a strong connection with the rest of the cast considering he’d joined them that very morning. Some of the scenes were a bit hilarious with script in hand, including some awkwardness with a sword, and cracking up due to losing his place at the crucial moment of suicide. Far from ideal, but Light’s honesty and charisma with the audience made it work, and he and the brave cast thoroughly earned their thunderous applause at the end of the performance. We came away not feeling cheated at all, but actually pleased to have seen a unique performance. Poor old James Hayes (Lepidus) was ill during my second visit which was a sad loss – the play is less without his epic Irish portrayal of the snake man (“I wish you joy of the worrrrrm” is our new catchphrase) – and the amount of ankle supports seemed to increase each time I went back. Dangerous on that stage.

 

The production each time had an amazing energy, was fast paced and action packed – lots of soldierly running around and flag twirling suspended from the balcony, marching and stomping and especially dancing. The bacchanalian romps at the start and during the drinking scene on Pompey’s boat (and eventually added at the end of the performance in true Globe style – good decision) were a frenzy of Egyptian sensuousness and exuberance, and were true crowd-pleasers. This wanton behaviour also contrasted deeply with the solemnity and formal stiffness of the Roman contingent – I know where I’d rather have lived. I didn’t know the play at all really, and was prepared to have to make the effort to get through it at points, prepared for a bit of tragedy and concentration, but I was in fact joyfully carried along on a perfectly balanced wave of humour and drama. It was an easily accessible performance and incredibly enjoyable.

 

Amazing final night photo by @shaksper. I'm in this somewhere! 

This was mainly thanks to the wonder that is Eve Best. I’ve said it before but she is just amazing. Her Cleopatra was very human – changeable and petulant, imposing but constantly flashing vulnerability and restless mischief too. Rather than the aloof Elizabeth Taylor glamorously exotic high up and far away queen we’ve come to expect, we got an understandable, almost loveable Cleopatra. Eve Best is the perfect Globe actor – working the audience (literally hooking them in this case), playing with them and making eye contact with countless awkward groundlings. The first time I saw it, I ended up kissing her hand as she flaunted her new pearl ring from Antony down to her subjects. Bit embarrassing as I immediately doubted that was what she’d meant me to do, but it seemed right at the time… And an honour, obviously, to kiss the hand of your hero. I haven’t seen her do it again so maybe I was just looking particularly worshipful or something. Awks.

 

Antony as played by Clive Wood was a grizzled lion of a man, torn between his duty in Rome and his happiness in Egypt, and full of grim humour and casual disrespect for Caesar which was super entertaining. The chemistry between he and Cleo wasn’t totally convincing but EB could charm sparks out of a stone so it wasn’t really a problem. I did love his jokey attitude even at his darkest moments (laughing at himself when his suicidal stab doesn’t quite work) but it would be interesting to see it done tragically too at some point.

 

The rest of the cast was also incredibly strong which is really why the play was such an overall hit for me – not just carried by brilliant headliners but showing off an enviable breadth of talent in the whole thing. Jolyon Coy’s Caesar was outstanding – entertaining and chilling in equal measure as the fastidious, calculating menace that he is, and playing off the total polarity between he and Antony to perfection. Phil Daniels as Enobarbus was enjoyably blunt and sardonic, but I feel like more could have been made of his strong friendship with Antony as that didn’t massively come across when they were together. Obioma Ugoala as two very contrasting roles (Mardian the eunuch and Scarus the soldier) was buoyant and powerful, and Cleo’s attendants Charmian and Iras played by Sirine Saba and Rosie Hilal were excellent, charming twin pillars of support to the wayward queen.

 

I got hit by two serious downpours – one on the DVD filming night (12th August if you were there!) which will be interesting to see on screen… Romance through cords of rain. The weather can also heighten the drama though which is why I love the Globe – you get a different performance because of the changing nature of the arena you’re in. On one occasion during a dramatic speech from Cleo as she’s missing Antony, the wind caught her shawl and blew it dramatically around her which drew whoops from the audience and laughs of delight from Eve Best, who rode it out and made it part of the performance.

 

Some favourite moments of the play include:

• The party on Pompey’s boat featuring drinking games (“A toast… to LEPIDUS!”), dancing and dropping Caesar on the floor.
• Cleopatra viciously beating up the messenger who brings the news of Antony’s marriage to Octavia.
• The soothsayer ripping out the goat’s entrails during the interval – brilliantly gory. 
• Cleo’s outfits – god I wish we could all go around wearing long white dresses and floor-length gold sequined capes.

I was lucky to go to the final night of the run, and experience all the extra fun that entails. We were round the left of the stage and so saw EB peeping out of the curtains, and during the extra riotous opening scene she roamed around the stage dressed as an old peddler in a cloak, thrusting a pomegranate at various cast members. The whole cast were given a rose at the end of the curtain call which they threw into the audience as we threw roses at them, which resulted in a frenzy of petal chucking and mutual appreciation between cast and groundlings.

 

Thank you to all involved for four beautiful and fun evenings! (I am such a nerd).

 

Brixpig x

Final night roses

Medea

When: Tuesday 22nd July

 

Where: National Theatre

 

Why: Classics innit

 

“They are the sun that lights his world
So I will plunge him into darkness.”

 

Oooh Medea you’re a horror. I love an ancient tragedy, and was basically brought up on them in my teenage years thanks to a school classics teacher’s connections with the Actors of Dionysus – an avant garde theatre group specialising in ancient plays (so much drama, so much scaffolding, so much writhing). This Medea was directed by Carrie Cracknell, who also did the Hattie Morahan version of A Doll’s House which I loved, so really I had no choice but to go.

 

Medea’s two ill-fated (to say the least) sons await the audience as they lie on their tummies in a pool of TV light, and this very normal scene of innocence and relaxation must really stick in the throats of all the parents in the audience anticipating the utter breakdown of this contented state of affairs.

 

Helen Mcrory’s Medea is charged, strong and savage, as she strides through her house like a trapped animal and psychologically unravels over the course of 90 minutes. It’s a fast moving play that seems driven by the very speed of Medea’s thoughts and the whirring of her mind. She is stricken and furious as her actions get her deeper into the hole she’s digging, and when she finds herself in the bleakest possible situation her fury and wits and wild logic lead her to the inevitable grisly conclusion. She needs to harm Jason, who has done her so much wrong, more than she needs to protect herself.   

 

I wasn’t a big fan of Danny Sapani’s portrayal of Jason. In this modern telling of the play, his ruthless businessman-like attitude and patronising presentation of his abandonment as a benefit to them all (“I did it for us, darling”) did work well as a concept, but I was underwhelmed by his reserved performance. One review described him as “curiously under-energised” – his vague wander out of the room where he’s just seen his two dead sons, followed by a bit of a groan and a stumble off the stage, did nothing for me really. I need guts and shrieking to make it worth my while. In a way though it highlighted Medea’s tragedy even more, in that she can’t get over this lame-o suit even though she knows how much he isn’t worth it.

 

The set portrays Medea’s state of being: the real world floats above, out of her reach, as the wedding of Jason and Creusa plays out, and she is hopelessly stuck at home with nothing but wilderness and exile in the forest behind her, ever approaching. The end of the play sees her fully committing to the darkness as she heads out there with the bodies of her sons literally burdening her, as her illusions of the gods’ protection are not fulfilled (no dragon-led chariots in this production, soz Euripides). Her hollow triumph is guttingly portrayed in the bleakest possible way.

 

I’d heard much made of the music and choreography in this version and was genuinely excited to see what would come of it, but to be totally honest I didn’t really notice the music, and found myself having to hold back giggles at the choreography. The Actors of Dionysus (who I love, by the way) prepared me well for ridiculous movement in a classical play (just to re-iterate – SO much writhing), but even so I was taken off guard by the dance moves in this performance. The chorus moved from Fifties housewife style advisors to living portrayals of Medea’s raging thoughts, spikily jerking and pulsing in a disturbing and enveloping troupe. It was impressive, don’t get me wrong, but unfortunately also hilarious. One move was almost a copy of Ricky Gervais’s famous David Brent dance moves, which sent me right over the edge. God I’m so unsophisticated. Similarly, I’d been looking forward to Goldfrapp’s score, which I think did offer a sense of unnerving atmosphere and foreboding within the play, but wasn’t especially memorable.

 

I followed up my visit by attending a talk on the psychology of Medea at the NT a few weeks later, drawn by the presence of forefront classicist Edith Hall (big fan of her irreverent style). The discussion considered concepts of insanity and asked whether Medea was actually ‘mad’. She is exiled, abandoned, a stranger with no support around her, but she also brought a lot of this on herself – she is a master manipulator who has been driven by rage and lust and power her whole life. She has murdered a family member before (her brother, to help Jason). She’s a fascinating character, and apparently in the ancient world represented the ultimate example of what happens when you don’t take care of your women.

 

Great stuff from Helen Mcrory who was close to perfect and provided me with as much screaming and horror as I could possibly want from this brilliant story.

 

Brixpig x

Lady Dinah's Cat Emporium

When: Sunday 6th July

 

Where: Shoreditch

 

Why: CAKE AND CATS

I was SO READY for my visit to Lady Dinah’s. I’d been following their progress since hearing of the planned project, and when all the spaces sold out after it opened I waited patiently, kind of hoping that someone might get me tickets for my birthday. But when the new booking system opened and loads of cancellations were released, I knew my time had come. Taking along two feline-obsessed friends, we bounced in with enthusiasm, ready to mingle with the kittens (who I felt I knew already thanks to voracious Instagram stalking).

 

Sleepy gingers

Typically, we arrived on a day after the cats had been up all night partying, so they were all in super sleepy mode. The lovely hostesses were most apologetic and tried to persuade them to play by various sneaky means – bringing out some exciting looking boxes, waggling stringy items at them… but to not much avail. To be honest, it was nice to see them behaving like totally average cats – casually disdainful of any enthusiastic human and dedicated to their own agenda. You wouldn’t want them to be anything else. The rules are strict at Lady D’s – you can’t disturb a sleeping pusk, or pick them up, and their welfare and comfort is the number one priority of the staff, as it should be. They all seemed incredibly content, and their environment was fab. Cosy sofas and retro furniture downstairs provided plenty of hiding places, and the glam hammocks and wheels and tunnels upstairs clearly made a bit more of an area for playing. There were also several delightful moments of cat V. dog stare-offs thanks to the window area, which made for entertaining viewing.

 

Wookie, my new bff

We didn’t have any serious cuddles, but I definitely shared a moment with Wookie (my absolute fave – a tabby/persian cross and a total babe), and we got a lot of strokes in. We did get to feed them some shrimp treats too which was a cute experience – my cats would definitely tell me to piss off if I tried to feed them from the palm of my hand, but these guys loved it. Speaking of which, our food was also impressively tasty – more so than I had expected. My red velvet cake and hot chocolate (complete with cat face stenciled on top) were absolutely delicious, my friend’s vegan rose and something else (I just can’t remember ok) cake looked fab, and they had a great range of teas and treats.

 

I will definitely, definitely be going back and had such a lovely time. Thanks kittens and staff!

 

Brixpig x

The Summer Book

When: Tuesday 10th June

 

Where: Unicorn Theatre

 

Why: Tove love

 

This was the first time I’ve ever been to a designated ‘children’s theatre’ as far as I know, and I did feel like a bit of a weirdo rocking up without a kid in tow. But the Unicorn is such a classy venue that I soon forgot myself - that, and the fact that there were way more adults than children in the audience anyway. It’s a beautiful space, with a bright and stylish atrium - no cliché wipe-clean surfaces and grubby plastic chairs, but a respectful and bold atrium that doesn’t patronise children. Which is fitting for a place showing a Tove Jansson piece. I was very impressed.

 

The Summer Book is a great story and beautifully written – I advise you to read it if you haven’t yet. It tells the story of a grandmother and her granddaughter Sophia, based on Jansson’s own mother Ham and niece Sophia – who I actually met at the Moomin film premiere (more on that in a later post!!) – and a summer they spent together on a small island. This stage version captured some of the quirkiness and inter-generational humour, but I think didn’t quite manage to perfectly get the poetry and energy of the book. But to be honest I think that would be almost impossible. There are some things that can’t be improved on and most of the magic of The Summer Book is in the writing.

 

It was played out in touching vignettes to create an overall impression of the anarchic island life from tiny moments, on an impressively simple stage of island rocks and a background set of the bedroom in the house. Our imagination was called upon at several points (for example grandma’s imaginary false teeth, and the fact that there weren’t many actual props in use), so that the whole undertaking felt like a game for the audience too, which was effectively carried off by the confident cast of two. Olivier award winner Sara Kestelman as the grandmother was glorious – conveying the grumpiness, rebellion, tiredness and wisdom of the older generation perfectly, her caustic remarks resounding well with the philosophical curiosity of Sophia, played alternately by Sammy Foster and Amy Snudden. I saw Sammy I think, whose levels of strop and unselfconsciousness were impressive, with only the smallest presence of stage-schooly precociousness. 

 

Their relationship was the strongest part of this stage version, and although overall it was a charming experience, it could have been more moving. I think in trying so hard to be subtle the play might have not done quite enough and lost a bit of energy. But the lighting and sound were gentle and simple, and essential to tie together the many scene swaps and bring in the strong sense of nature as its own force and really the third main character in this little tale.

 

Definitely glad I saw this though, and I would go back to the Unicorn in a heartbeat – just need to find a child to take with me next time!

 

Brixpig x

Boy George

When: Thursday 3rd April

 

Where: Indigo2

 

Why: Me mum loves him (don’t they all?)

 

You’re such a flirt, George. Complimenting the crazy mum dancing, the man with the glittery beard, the man with the massive hat on, and generally working the crowd with his funny little dance moves and relaxed attitude, he couldn’t have been more charming. Apart from the tiny strop he threw during a Bob Dylan cover, to get the noisy crowd to shut up (I was in full agreement with him, people who stand at the bar and yell during gigs are dicks, pure and simple).

 

He sounded incredible. His voice was clearly on top form, so soulful and touching, and smooth as silk. And he looked pretty good too (loving the beard) – clearly that raw diet he keeps going on about on Twitter is working for him. The band were cracking and had a super cool brass section, which really built up the sound and gave a different feel to some of the more reggae tunes. The Culture Club songs predictably got the biggest crowd response (Poison, Do you really want to hurt me, and a new chilled-out version of Karma Chameleon), but I loved his somewhat unexpected cover of T-Rex’s Get it on (see video below). He finished with the joyful, arm-waving, peace-n-love, jingly jangly Bow Down Mister, and a euphoric crowd sent waves of love back at him – this crazy, charming music god.

 

Brixpig x