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Somewhere that's green: Potty the Plant at Wiltons Music Hall

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"I'm Potty the Plant," sings a potted plant in this odd little fringe concept of a show. It's hard not to get the tune out of your head, even if the show is brief. It's an earworm for a show that features a worm-like plant as a puppet. And given the show's brevity, running at only an hour, it's hard to get too annoyed by a lack of a coherent story, even if it still seems like the show could use a bit more development (which is underway). It has made its London debut at Wilton's Music Hall. The premise is that Potty, the plant, lives in the hospital office of Dr Acula (geddit?) and dreams of a life with the cleaning lady Miss Lacey (Lucy Appleton). But Dr Acula might be responsible for why all these children are disappearing while trying to romance Miss Lacey for her family's money that she doesn't have. Three nurses are on the case, trying to solve the mystery.  If the show settled on a convincing plot, location and set of characters, it could ...

Theatre: Thérèse Raquin



An advised that I could learn a lot from Thérèse Raquin in a similar way that I learned a lot from Belle Du Jour. Well after finally seeing this production I suspect the central message is not to live with your mother in law.

Adapted from Emile Zola's play, it is a great story about a woman and her husband's friend who conspire to kill the husband so they can be together. In the opening minutes of the first act, Charlotte Emmerson as Thérèse mostly pouts and isn't given much to do. I was wondering what was the appeal of the pouter. I was also starting to get a little bored with this production. That was until Ben Daniels (as Laurent) stuck his hand up Emmerson's dress. Neither actor is particular attractive but there was this electricity that suddenly made the audience snap to attention.

It was a pity there weren't more touches of this throughout. It felt at times to be a bit too polite and mannered as if were a play about herbal teas and dominoes instead of murder and adultery. I would have much preferred a more gruesome and atmospheric fare and less of the standard issue bland sets the National is famous for... Fortunately there were more tears before bedtime and the second act moved swiftly to its sensibly bleak end. It finishes its run soon...

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