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No country for old women: Old Ladies - at Finborough Theatre

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The day after seeing The Old Ladies at the Finborough Theatre , I was describing the play to someone in great detail: about three old ladies who lived in a rickety house in southern England in 1935. Based on Hugh Walpole’s novel and adapted by Rodney Ackland, it is the sort of story with enough believability, humour and mild thriller to stick in your mind. Perhaps it is the lure of this dark, forboding tale of a life without money, to be alone and to be old, that makes you feel attracted to this poverty porn. But then again, given the state of the world, the cost of living, an ageing population, or just the fact that it’s a dog-eat-dog world, it might as well be an every little old lady-for-herself, too. It’s a well-acted and staged piece that moves at a brisk pace, so there isn’t much time to think about it too much. And in the intimate (or should that be claustrophobic?) space of the Finborough, there’s nowhere to avert your eyes. Even if you wanted to.  The scene is a grim Cathe...

Life observations: Turning Thirty Tomorrow...

And now...… A little diversion:

I'm thirty years old tomorrow
And I haven't worked since late August.
What a bum!

Just thinking about tomorrow
Turning thirty while pals are pushing forty
I feel young!

So I'm on holiday
And its grey
And chilly
But I just head to the gym
And grin
And Say

I'm thirty years old tomorrow
So I gotta hang on
'Til tomorrow
Come what may
Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
I'm thirty tomorrow
And that means not much
Nowadays

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