Theatre: Rumours

Rumours-Teaser Trailer from Rob Watt on Vimeo.

If the eighties were the decade of big hair, big angst and big dramas, then Neil Simon's comedy-farce Rumours probably fits in rather nicely. It is a sex scandal, political intrigue, power dressing fetish extravaganza rolled into one. Farce isn't every one's cup of tea but I was in the mood for cheap laughs on Thursday evening and it did not disappoint.

This production transfers the setting from its original New York to Oxford, which makes the cultural references more relevant. The premise is that as guests arrive at the home of the finance minister and his wife for a tenth anniversary celebratory dinner, there is an attempted suicide and the hosts are nowhere to be seen. Given the status of the hosts and the guests, everyone decides it is in their interests to conceal the truth rather than risk a political scandal. Cue pandemonium.

While I wasn't sure if anyone in the cast was born in the eighties let alone lived through it, there are some nice touches in this play. While there was no door to swing open and shut, the budget in this production did extend to some fabulous 80s style hair. The hair is introduced as a series of over-the-top creations, getting more absurd as each character is introduced. By the time Claire Lyons storms in as the celebrity chef Cookie, her big flowing ginger locks make her look as if she is channelling Rula Lenska (or Rupert Everett in St Trinians).

The cast are impressive in their hard work at keeping things afloat. While shouting does not necessarily give the play the pacing it requires, and the young actors didn't quite have the years behind them to be as faded and jaded as the people they portrayed, the characterisations constantly offer up nuggets of unexpected laughs (which most of the time don't pull focus) and keep things interesting and varied for the show's ninety minutes.

The play is a co-production of Roam Productions and the Madison Theatre Company and feature the awfully talented actors from both. It is directed by Rob Watt and runs through to 18 June at The Hen and Chickens Theatre in Islington. It is my first visit to this great little theatre pub in Islington, which also features comedy on its evening line-ups. Although get a cold beer before going in if it is a warm night. There was no air-conditioning and it does get a little warm...

Movies: Vallanzasca - Angels of Evil

It's been a while since I have seen a truly satisfying crime film. This is probably the most interesting film since Animal Kingdom and worth catching, despite the luke-warm reviews from the press.

It probably helps to have lived through the 70s and 80s when Vallanzasca was Italy's notorious bank robber, kidnapper, escapee etc. Characters come and go and you are taken on a whirlwind tour of fashion through the period. But even without the prior knowledge of the history (and the endless characters), it is a great (gory) ride helped by the performance of Kim Rossi Stuart in the lead. He's hot and for a gangster film he spends an unusually long amount of screen time in his underwear. One suspects he won't be single for long...

Theatre: London Road

Suffolk murder musical angers Ipswich by itnnews

The Ipswich serial murders that took place around December 2006 quickly captured the nation's attention. So much so that I remember the tales such as:
How do they know it's Christmas in Ipswich?
Because they keep finding prossies under the trees...
I also remember have a frightfully engaging conversation with the woman at the supermarket about how many strangled prostitutes had been found in Ipswich. It was all gripping stuff. And easy to make jokes and have silly conversations about something that was taking place in far away Ipswich.

So I was intrigued to see London Road, best described as a play with music, that attempts to recount and make some sense about the serial murders and the community that lived through it. The red light district, seamen, police tape and neighbourhood watch meetings are all set to music in a sung-spoken kind of way. It has captured the immagination of the National Theatre-going public and is now running through to August.

The first half of this play works very well and focusses on the residents of London Road. While the media described the street as the local red light district, the reality was not quite like that. Prostitution gradually escalated after being pushed out of other areas. As prostitution starts to become ever-present, women start to disappear. It is the shades of grey that this production brings out about the story and the community is where this works best. There are the meetings over cups of tea, the banter between neighbours, the hysteria and the siege mentality that develops as every week another woman disappears and another body is found. One of the best lines is by a resident who said something along the lines of: "The police were telling people all sorts of things except for the obvious which was don't be a prostitute and don't get into a strangers car at night".

The second half of the show turns out to be less successful. After intermission London Road resident, Steve Wright, is caught. The piece then seems to get bogged down in the processes that follow and the media attention rather than how the community is coping with the matter. There is a loss of any sense of irony and a persistence of the alienating music that sounds more like an orchestra tuning up. It starts to wear a little thin and you begin to yearn for a song that could better capture the emotions and feelings of the people depicted.

Amongst all this is a rather unpleasant message that emerges that the community were somewhat grateful for the serial killer cleaning up the street and bringing them together. It has to be the first show since Serial Mom to make you wish you had your own mass murderer on your street. It then proceeds with a trite message of how hanging baskets and a cup of tea solved all evils. While I would never doubt the power of builders tea and geraniums to heal some wounds, in the end you are left feeling the production is as shallow as the media coverage it purports to critique.

Upon leaving the theatre the actors take up a collection for a charity that supports prostitutes in Ipswich. Since they are shafted in this show you feel like the least you can do is hand them your spare change. Hopefully the piece is a work in progress and it will be interesting to see how it develops. At the moment it is more an interesting study than an entirely satisfying evening.

Opera concert: Handel's Ariodante

To appreciate Handel's opera Ariodante, presented in concert form at the Barbican this week, I think you need to get into a baroque frame of mind. The trick is to appreciate the prettiness of it without falling asleep like the little woman next to me did. It was not too hard to get into this frame when an impressive cast headed by Joyce DiDonato and Il Complesso Barocco.

As the first half of the performance closed with the incredibly dramatic "Scherza infida" sung by DiDonato for someone not familiar with the work it was easy to wonder how that could be topped in the second half. It was sublime music with an eerie bassoon accompaniment. But by her final aria, Doppo Notte, there was more breathless breathtaking music making that the audience could not help but cheer and applaud, even if the epilogue was still to run.

There was some very fine music making here, which helps bring to life this piece. Even for a concert version, it was fairly dramatic. Costumes and scenery were not necessary when the singers could act (and push music stands about). Marie-Nicole Lemieux as Polinesso, the rival to DiDonato's Ariodante was particulary good in getting so much out of the villain's role, both in voice and performance. It was tempting to hiss, but only in a good natured way, and she had many fans by the end of the evening.

The last time I saw DiDonato she "famously broke her leg on stage". It is not often you get to witness modern opera folklore, but one suspects as DiDonato goes from strength to strength this will be one of those stories to dine out on for years to come... Her new album Diva, Divo was released earlier this year, but a full recording with Il Complesso Barocco is also available from June... Not even indigestion from eating a chicken breast smeared with salsa and stuffed in a worn out focaccia from the Barbican's canteen could put me off enjoying the evening. The six-thirty start necessitated eating there (amongst the flying pigeons) out of desperation. Live and learn...

Signs from outside Mansion House tube this week

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Originally uploaded by Paul-in-London
Taking a stand against the rivers of urine, it states:
Please note - this is NOT (much underlining) a toilet (just one underline) so don't piss up it (sic). Go before you leave the pub or wine bar (for the posh pissers). Thank you (your mother).

Opera Last Look: Werther

If opening night was a sensation watching Rolando Villazon in the title role, closing night didn't disappoint either. At the curtain call Villazon was very excited and shouting like a very satisfied man. The audience was on its feet applauding. It was mutual admiration. Villazon's performance made Werther, a tragic story about a young troubled poet who falls in love with a woman committed to someone else, incredibly passionate and engaging. His act three aria was worth the price of admission alone. Even in the context of an incredibly melodramatic opera, you couldn't help but be drawn into this world. And at the curtain call I couldn't help but think he must be awfully fun at parties.

Opposite Villazon was Sophie Koch playing Charlotte, the woman who is his obsession sounded great too. But focus of the  opera is the tragic young poet. With Antonio Pappano in the orchestra pit, the music was incredibly lush and intense. All breathtaking stuff... It was enough to make you want to go home and write obsessive poetry for hours. Here's looking forward to Villazon's next engagement with the Royal Opera.

Theatre: The Cherry Orchard

It was only two years ago when I last saw a production of The Cherry Orchard. Either I have seen too much theatre, or this play is a favourite in this town. It is probably a favourite given its subject matter of class and the property ladder. Now that is something everyone who goes to the theatre here can relate to. And I really don't get out and see that much theatre surely?

The last time it was at the Old Vic, this time around it was around the corner at the National Theatre, and in a new translation by Andrew Upton. The most discernible difference I could note about this new translation was that there are a few more potty-mouthed words, which in the context of the drama and its setting makes the performers come  across like they are frightfully naughty schoolchildren. This is not necessarily a bad thing as the characters in this play could be construed as being a little naughty I suppose (or at least incapable of making sensible decisions).

There is also the problem that this production feels lost in the huge space of the Olivier theatre, despite over extending the set so it stretches across the stage. It is one big house this time around. Big is not always better and everyone also has to shout and play it big in this production for fear of not being heard... If feels at times that the characters have to be larger than life just to be heard (and seen). Chairs are thrown, big dance numbers are staged, emotions are larger than life...

But having said all that, the cast are great. Headed by Zoë Wanamaker, she gives an excellent performance of the conflicted Ranyevskaya, which will have you feeling sympathy for her and wanting to slap her at the same time. Conleth Hill as Lopakhin, the serf-made-good, gives an excellent performance balancing the comedy and drama that is central to the story.

So even a Cherry Orchard with a few blemishes is still a great night at the theatre and this show doesn't disappoint... Much... It is also part of the National Theatre Live and will be broadcast around the world on 30 June. The close ups of a broadcast might even benefit this production. Sitting in the circle it was hard to tell what facial expressions were on the actors.

Theatre: Fing's Ain't Wot They Used T'Be

Fings Ain't Wot They Used T'Be is not so much a musical but a music hall revue of songs with a very loose excuse for a plot. It feels a little like a downmarket Guys and Dolls (or at least one transferred to the East End). There are busty prostitutes, gamblers, fights and a sissy male... But not much of a story. That is not to say that it is not rather enjoyable with the songs being a pastiche of music hall styles where humour and melodrama are more important than characterisations or  driving forward a plot. This current production at the Union Theatre has an energetic cast and is a slick production. It sounds good too, with a small orchestra that is supplemented by the actors playing instruments as well.

It is amazing to think that Lionel Bart had written this the year before Oliver! as this is not in the same league. But perhaps that isn't the point. This is much more of a sing along. It's tempting to sing along at times and I am sure @Johnnyfox was doing it every now and then. Grab a beer and go see it and have a good time. It runs until June.

Just brush up on your cockney slang before-hand as there is not a glossary in the programme. Interval and post show musings follow...

Theatre: A Delicate Balance

There was something odd about this revival of Edward Albee's 1966 play A Delicate Balance, which is playing at the Almeida Theatre.

It's not just being warned upon entering the theatre to switch off rather than silence your phones as the slightest noise will upset the actors. It is that almost without warning, the actors will emote at such intensity that things become so disturbing and painful to watch it feels like you are watching someone's mental collapse. At one point during Wednesday evening's performance a mobile phone went off behind me and I feared that suicide on stage may have been next.

It is a play about a respectable middle class couple, their family, friends and perfect life. Although naturally being an Albee play nothing is quite what it seems and there is a secret terror ripping at their lives. Despite the drama, this is also a very funny play with some incredibly witty lines. But all the while you are kept on edge as you are never quite sure when things are going to take a turn for the worse.

The cast is led by Penelope Wilton as Agnes who is restrained to the point of being unbelievably remote. Her almost lifeless husband is played by Tim Piggott-Smith. Against this is Imelda Staunton playing Agnes's sister Claire who seems to be a permanent house guest in their home. She manages to provide the comic relief as she recounts such adventures as shopping for a topless swimming costume. As their daughter is returning home from another failed marriage, their lifelong friends arrive unexpectedly.

All the action is set in an oval-shaped living room. The round room was a somewhat distracting set for me as I couldn't help but keep wondering what shapes the rooms in the rest of the house were, and whether any house would have an oval living room given that it would lead to a lot of dead space. Given the importance of alcohol in this family the layout of the bar seemed unusual, but there was a substantial array of spirits, mixers and glassware for the various drinks consumed throughout the day.

Even suffering from jet lag from returning from Australia, this was a sharp and enjoyable play. The restrained and nuanced performances sometimes stretch the bounds of believability and can be at times frustrating, but the script directions are often very specific so it must be a difficult piece for actors to interpret. But then again acting in a straight jacket is part of what this play is all about... Go catch it... But have a martini first to loosen things up... And switch your phone to flight mode...