This was a very harrowing short piece, brilliantly done. Deservedly, this one got a transfer to Trafalgar Studios, so there is a good stub to be found with the production details, some interviews etc. We saw the original version at the Hampstead Downstairs, but it looks as though it was a straight transfer, same cast, same production team.
The play is basically about a young girl in Rochdale who is befriended and groomed by an older, Asian man with debts and bad friends. The Children’s Society collaborated on the work, by all accounts.
We saw it on a Friday evening after a poor early evening meal at Harry Morgans. We were talking about it all weekend; it raised such startling issues and was so well acted.
Ed Hall himself directed this one – unusually for a downstairs production – top quality stuff.
About a week ahead, I was invited to a wine tasting by Helen Baker, a friend of Gerry Goddin who was thinking through setting up independently in the wine business:
I was wondering if you would be able to make it to a tasting? This is the first of a series of four to be held fortnightly on a Monday, starting at 5.30 pm/6.00 pm. These first four will concentrate on Rosso/Brunello and Langhe Nebbiolo/Barolo. I have a few older vintages and interesting comparisons, so it should be fun as well as interesting and all the wines are top notch.
As luck would have it, I was in the City that day and had no evening engagement planned, so it would have seemed churlish to turn down a chance to try some amazing wines.
I met some interesting people and tasted some superb wines at this tasting. A list of the wines we tasted is linked here: Mousse Montalcino Tasting 28 09 15
Helen very kindly let me take a couple of half-finished bottles home with me, warning me though, that the really fine Brunelli would not be at its best for much more than 24 hours.
When I told Janie what she had missed, she made a point of popping in to the flat on the Tuesday and having a quick slurp. She enjoyed both the Rossi and the Brunelli but agreed that the Brunelli was especially fine.
This new found understanding of Brunelli came in handy just a few days later in Southend-on-Sea – I kid you not. Once I have written up that visit (3 October), there should be a link below…now there is!
This was a very powerful modern adaptation of Medea, wonderfully acted, directed and produced.
Kate Fleetwood was superb as the increasingly crazed Medea; so was Justin Salinger as the creepy, unreasonable Jason.
Of course, this was a modern adaptation, so it doesn’t quite end as the bloody original, but it does naturally end in tears.
Both of us were really struck by the power of this production; Janie has a natural aversion to ancient works but this modern adaptation did enough to keep her engrossed.
This play/production at the Bush Theatre made for a very good evening.
The communications head for a giant energy company faces issues of climate change in the discomfort of his own increasingly dysfunctional household. This sort of play is fun but it also makes you think. The Bush does this sort of play well.
Good drama often subtly uses a device known as foreshadowing. Something happens early in the piece, so when the dramatic climax or denouement comes, the audience isn’t completely taken by surprise by the twist.
Bad drama does this unsubtly, perhaps showing that one of the characters has an unsecured gun, or getting two characters to tell a convoluted back story for seemingly no reason other than foreshadowing.
In many ways, the climax was all on Day One. Personally, because that was to be my last cricket of the year, accompanied that day by Charles (Charley “The Gent” Malloy) Bartlett. But also because Yorkshire clinched the title that day, by virtue of something that happened on some other cricket ground at some point during the afternoon. It was all a bit confusing for us spectators, who weren’t officially told by the announcer until tea, although many were listening to internet radio accounts from elsewhere, so word soon spread.
To some extent Charles’s presence was foreshadowing of day one of the same fixture in 2016. In some ways, the first over of Middlesex’s innings – three wickets and no runs – foreshadowed the Nottinghamshire match in 2016 – click here – which Middlesex also (despite the three wickets for zip setback) went on to win.
I wrote up this day for King Cricket as long ago as April 2016, but at the time of writing this piece (November 2016) the piece is as yet unpublished. I’ll add an update and a link here once he publishes.
At the Meet the Players party in the evening, which was splendid, I suggested that the Middlesex folk should encourage the Yorkshire celebrations. I don’t think my advice was heeded, but I also don’t think the Yorkshire players needed encouragement. Despite Middlesex being on the ropes at the end of Day One, we somehow snatched victory from the very jaws of defeat in this match.
I had been really looking forward to this one. I recalled seeing and liking the companion piece, When I Was A Girl I Used To Scream And Shout, many years ago.
Sadly, this one was rather grim and dark by comparison. Well acted, well directed, but neither Janie nor I much liked the play.
As usual, we didn’t feel we’d wasted our time and enjoyed our evening out, not least our Don Fernando dinner which we almost always enjoy as an occasional treat after the Orange Tree.
The trip was simply three days in Edgbaston, staying at the Eaton Hotel (first visit there). Straight to the ground day one, walking in to short business meetings in Birmingham proper on each of days two and three before returning to London early on day four for one last business meeting of the week.
Simples. Until Benjy, Ivan, Dumbo and Ged got their teeth into it.
Still, this was a superb production so we both really enjoyed it. Ben Whishaw is exceptional, but the whole cast was good, as was the design, choreography, the lot.
Having learnt the previous week that Lisa’s new flat was more or less ready, we arranged to pop around and have a look after tennis on a Saturday morning.
It became a brief impromptu housewarming:
I vaguely recall one of those Champagne flutes biting the dust, resulting in me and Janie getting Lisa another pair as an additional housewarming present.
My deal with King Cricket is basically that I write what I want, when I want. The reciprocal part of the deal is that he’ll publish what he wants (almost all of it) when he wants (perhaps months or years later).
Dumbo, my normally law-abiding Suzuki Jimny (although he does think that he is a horse) tells this tale.
This piece was, for Dumbo, the conclusion of a small build (through several adventures) towards him getting inside Lord’s and actually seeing the ground.
One of the ironies of all this, of course, is that Dumbo has subsequently become a regular visitor to Lord’s Cricket Ground, when I visit Middlesex CCC for meetings and/or the real tennis court. On quieter days, Dumbo sometimes even gets to park with a view of the hallowed turf itself. On such days, I think I detect Dumbo getting quite dewey-windscreened.
Still, nothing a short blast of air conditioning can’t put right.