Theatre: Tomorrow Morning

Tomorrow Morning has been playing at the Landor Theatre in Clapham North for the past month and is a great little show. It is a four-hander musical about a young couple (well sort of young since Jon Lee is one half of it) getting married, and an older couple getting divorced. I don't want to say the second couple is old as it appears the couple getting divorced are no older than me and have fabulous jobs and tight fitting suits. Despite the divorce and the child custody issues you still get a sense they are living the dream though slim cut tailoring...

The show was first presented a few years ago and has gone through some revisions since then. Here it is presented as a very slick engaging production with an incredible cast. Heading it up with Jon Lee is the lovely Julie Atherton along with Grant Neal and Yvette Robinson. The performances make this show very memorable and the production is one of the best looking I have seen at the Landor. The set comprises of a series of sofas and cupboards that open and reveal things about the characters. Although maybe all those recent home improvements I have been undertaking has led me to develop in unhealthy fascination in cupboard doors and sofas that look like they were from Ikea...

The music is reminiscent of Sondheim and Jason Robert Brown and shows like I Love You Because and I Love You, Your Perfect Now Change. Actually after listening to them all they all seem to start to share the same set of values (and plots) it made me wonder whether slightly quirky heterosexual musicals with mild angst is an emerging sub-genre.

It runs until 13 November so catch the last few performances of this production while you can... Julie Atherton's latest CD was available in the foyer or iTunes and it isn't a bad little collection either...

Life in London: Speed flat-dating

The BBC has caught on to the trend of Speed flat-dating (or speed flat-mating... Actually either sound a bit suspecting). Here's hoping that stories like this will reduce the need to explain to partners you don't live with what you're getting up to...

Trying it over the summer when looking for a place I found it was great. It's less pressure than a real date as everyone has name tags which indicate what area they are looking for and what they are offering / prepared to pay so everyone knows where people stand and you don't have to trundle down confusing streets at night to meet new prospective flat mates. Of course you still might need to do that, but there is something reassuring about a familiar face at the end of dark road.

All that is left is to your partner for instance that you are going out for a speed-dating-like experience to find a flat share... It's not a good idea to say your going out drinking if you don't usually do that. But
I met a really nice landlord there who was in the same boat with his partner. We hit it off tremendously and I was ready to move in until I got a better offer... Hmm...

Theatre: Onassis

After catching Onassis the Play at the Novello theatre on the weekend, I found I rather enjoyed the smooth and dirty talking central character.

On one hand it is a silly play that goes on a bit. On the other hand it is entertaining with some great dialogue and an engaging performance by Robert Lindsay in the title role. And there is also Tom Austen, playing the surly son Alexandro, stripping down to his underwear for a nighttime swim. It all makes for a great night out.

Whether it is a realistic depiction is probably up for debate. The women in his life - Callas and Jackie O - are more caricatures than real people here. And when things start to get interesting dramatically it is another excuse for some Greek singing. Historical moments fly by as the play moves from being set on his boat to his island. It all seems very glamourous. 

There are some great monologues in the play, including one where Onassis talks about how his experience being sodomised as a young man made him better understand what a woman feels like to have him inside her... While out of context it may seem bizarre, watching it slowly unfold. With pauses. On stage. Seemed so masculine... So Greek... So manish... Yet so tender... It was enough to make you want to go out and get some women, or at least do some sort of manly things. I was painting a living room the next day (which surely must count) and I'm sure my roller technique was much suaver for seeing the show.

First impressions are below, but worth catching in its limited run...

Overheard outside the pub Saturday

Woman (to security): Ooh you have such a big head... And that hat makes you look like a baker...

Overheard at Café Nero Saturday

Woman 1: Aaah know you know her!
Woman 2: Well I do and she's like you and me...
Woman 1: She is?
Woman 2: Yes she's a little bit german a little bit Flemish a little bit Scandinavian
Woman 1: And her husband?
Woman 2: Well she's divorced you know...
Woman 1: Aw such a shame...

Theatre: Theatre of Horror and Grand Guignol

I was really in the mood for watching Theatre of Horror at the Southwark Playhouse Thursday evening. Maybe it was the skin biopsy I had a lunchtime that put me in the mood. There I was, watching chunks of flesh being taken out of me and put into little jars, blood dripping down my leg and feeling the stitches forcing it all back together. At one point the doctor said, "Oh you turned your head at just the right time," as I watched a little slice of me going in a jar. The shows were tame compared to all that, but still in the same vein.

The first piece, "The Exclusion Zone" started off incredibly disturbing about a young couple wanting to have some fun in the woods. It was a nice ride until the end song, which was inaudible and hard to understand the connection to the previous twenty minutes.

The second piece "The Unimaginable" was a slightly creepy monologue about people who swipe your children. After mentioning parents who go out to the theatre and leave there children at home, I was half expecting a reference to the Tapas Nine. Alas it was not so topical. After intermission was my favourite piece, "Country". This centred around a woman coming to terms with her dead husband who had just written the latest NHS White Paper. It turns out she was possessed by him and seeking revenge against her left-wing friends. Finally there was "Reanimator" which was a long piece adapted from short stories by HP Lovecraft, but had some fascinating scenes with a dead rabbit and zombie-like resurrections.

Holding the show together were Sarah-Louise Young and various others with songs and belly dancing. While the pieces were a mixed bag and scene chewing abounded, there were a few thrills across the piece and some inventive uses of the space. The Southwark Playhouse also has a great bar and you can take your drinks into the theatre. Grab a drink and go for a slightly disturbing evening. The horror runs through the end of the month.

Life in London: Burglary

Crime in London may be on the decline, but occasionally it does come and remind you its still there.  Over the past weekend someone got into my flat via a suspected unsecured bathroom window and helped themselves to a five year old iPod. I wonder if they will enjoy the over-representation of musical theatre and funky house tracks on it, but who knows. There is also the slight sense of humiliation you feel when burglars have determined the only thing you have worth stealing is a five year old iPod, but that's probably something I can discuss when the victims of crime unit gets in touch.

I always believed that you would know when you were burgled as you would come home and see clothes thrown around, drawers left open, things upended. That is also a bit like what my flatmate's room looks like on a good day but I digress. But returning home on Monday evening I at first did not see anything out of the unusual. Except for the toiletries bag with my electric shaver open on the bed. And then my bottom bedside drawer open. It was empty but that's because since I moved I had not had the chance to fill it with junk. And then noticing my iPod missing from its dock I initially thought, "Why has my flatmate borrowed my iPod?"

After waking my flatmates up Monday evening, we started piecing together a hypothetical scenario of two yoofs climbing through the bathroom window, picking my room (as it was the closest), and so forth. I started to spook my flatmates when I suggested one of them probably disturbed them so they decided to flee before venturing into their rooms. I slept soundly that night as I figured the crime already happened but I'm not sure about everyone else.

Tuesday I found myself at the local police station reporting the crime. As I started discussing the story with the police, neighbours and others, the hypothetical scenario seemed more and more plausible. Although once you report a crime you have to be prepared for the police to make an initial visit, then for someone to do a crime scene investigation and then you get a call from someone offering victim support. It is an impressive service, but it is also exhausting.

The landlord, the caretaker and others stopped by to discuss. Suddenly I knew the neighbourhood. Not a bad outcome for an old iPod. Until they come around again I guess...