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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...

Theatre: All Bob's Women



It isn't every time when you go to the theatre that there is a deathly silence at the end of the show... Only to be broken by somebody in the audience sighing and exclaiming, "Well... THAT was interesting..." But such was the case Sunday afternoon at the wake last performance of the musical All Bob's Women. The show opened Tuesday and posted closing notices the next day. Translated from an Italian show that apparently ran in Milan for months, it is billed as a sexy musical comedy. The problem with the show was that it was not sexy, not musical and it wasn't funny. But no point flogging a dead horse. The Evening Standard, The Stage and (most memorably) The Telegraph cover why it is a disaster. I was surprised by little things like:
  • The actors had been rehearsing this show for many weeks
  • Concert-like body mics and deafening sound to match it
  • Half a taxi-cab appearing on stage
  • Some weird woman in the audience who cackled every few minutes (I was half-expecting one of the actors would shout out, "Would you keep it down mum?")
Part of the story involves Bob (played by Samuel Oatley) dressing up as a woman to get to know the secret desires of the women he wants to bed. His drag act and clothes worn reminded me of Tom Hanks and Peter Scolari in Bosom Buddies, which may not have made it to Britain so I have included it above. The rest of the story didn't make much sense so I decided for my own entertainment value to fill in the gaps... Bob was a secret agent working for the enemy to corrupt England's slappers. He would find the most unattractive women and mess with their minds until they sang off-key before moving onto the next one. That worked for me.

Large portions of this play Samuel Oatley was parading around in pants. Which was not bad. After Julian Ovenden in his boxers on Friday, the gays in Clapham Saturday and Oatley in his briefs on Sunday it has been quite a pants weekend. I think that is something I can live with. As for the show... It lives on in Youtube thanks to West End Live (if you can put up with the poor camera work and overbearing sax).

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