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Sleight of hand: The Fabulist @charingcrossthr

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Billed as a musical comedy, The Fabulist is actually a rare chance to see Giovanni Paisiello’s rarely performed light opera, The Imaginary Astrologers , translated and updated to Mussolini’s Italy. With sublime music, fine singing and a bit of additional silliness thrown in for good measure, it’s a welcome addition to the choices available on the West End. It’s currently playing at Charing Cross Theatre . In this update, the action moved to Italy in 1929. A magician (or, as he prefers to be called, Fabulist), Julian is on the run from both the fascists and the Catholic Church. On the run, he stumbles on a film shoot and dazzles the screenwriter Clarice with his charm while her sister tries to complete a series of mildly subversive historical films. What will win in a battle of ideas between science and magic, the church and the Fabulist? It’s an evening of light operatic comedy, so there are no prizes for guessing.  Experts in clerical fascism and fascist mysticism may find some of the

Theatre: The Seagull

Friday night I caught The Seagull at the National Theatre. It is a new version of the Chekhov play by Martin Crimp that has been getting good notices but not so great audiences as they have been discounting tickets to get the punters in.

Juliet Stevenson as Arkadina the fading leading leady features in a great cast in a story about artists and the new Turks, unrequited and lost love. Her son Konstantin is a new writer and is in love with Nina but Arkadina's lover Trigorin steals her away. Meanwhile Masha is in love with Konstantin but it is unrequited. In between the high drama there are a lot of things unsaid but then again this is Russia and Chekhov.

The ending (spoiler to follow) left a lot of people dazed and startled when it ends in the suicide of Konstantin offstage with a loud bang. It certainly made me jump. Arkadina barely has enough time to scream at the news before the curtain came down. We all filed out of the theatre not saying much… Maybe the drama felt a little too real…

As for the title, it isn't actually a direct translation of Chekhov's original name. But all English translators have felt that it was more appropriate, particularly when Nina utters the line "I am a seagull". The alternate – "I am a puffin" – doesn't quite convey the same impact for a serious drama I suppose…

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