The Strange Death Of John Doe by Fiona Doyle, Hampstead Theatre Downstairs, Followed By Dinner At Fora With Dot And Randy, 23 June 2018

Janie and I were fascinated by the descriptive rubric about this play, so booked to see it as soon as the tickets went on sale, as oft we do for the Hampstead Downstairs.

Here (and through the embedded picture below) is a link to that rubric and other Hampstead resources about this play and production. 

Even the programme for this one is downloadable for free – I haven’t seen the Hampstead do that before – a new initiative perhaps?

A few weeks before our booking, I got a message from Dot to say that “they” would be in England the weekend of 23/24 June and wondered if I could recommend a show for them to see and/or it would be nice to meet up. In the event, there were still tickets for this play available and Dot seemed keen to join us.

“They” turned out to be Dot (who came to Z/Yen from the USA as a summer intern a few years ago, recruited by me while I was experimenting with recreational on-line poker using my first ever smart phone – that is certainly an Ogblog story for another day)…

…plus her beau Randy. Randy came to England on this occasion primarily for work purposes, whereas Dot was in transit, on her way to watch some football World Cup live in Russia.

Anyway, it made a change for me and Janie to go to the theatre with some other people – it is years since we last did that. Dot and Randy made excellent company too, bringing a different perspective to the themes raised in the play and indeed  interesting perspectives on the current geopolitical maelstrom  on both sides of the Atlantic pond.

Before the show, we had a chance encounter with Ollie Goodwin, who was also at the Hampstead but he was watching the upstairs show…so it proved to be a brief encounter. Still, always good to see Ollie.

The play itself indeed proved to be very interesting and superbly acted/directed. All of the performers were very good indeed. Janie and I again noticed Callie Cooke as exceptional – we still remember Firebird (another Hampstead Downstairs triumph which Ed Hall himself directed) and Callie Cooke’s performance in it as one of the best:

Firebird by Phil Davies, Hampstead Theatre Downstairs, 2 October 2015

In those days (2015) the Downstairs studio eschewed official reviews, but the Hampstead’s policy has changed, so you will find official and unofficial reviews through this link – click here. The official reviews are good but not rave reviews, whereas some of the unofficial noise is unequivocally complimentary. My take on it is that the play has its flaws, not least the rapidity of the scene changes and the amount of walking on/walking off that goes on in short scenes, but that the flaws do not detract from the drama, tension and fine acting within the piece. This production is well worth seeing.

It’s not ideally suited for the very squeamish – it is mostly set in a post mortem lab – but I was able to cope with it which means that most people should be OK – the grizzly bits were mostly done with sound rather than visuals. I glanced at one grizzly point to see if our entourage looked OK and assessed that Randy might be as squeamish as me, whereas Janie and Dot were lapping it up. Indeed the two girls looked as though they might, had they lived in late 18th century Paris, have sat in the front row of the guillotine execution sessions, knitting.

After the show, Janie, Dot, Randy and I went to Fora in St John’s Wood for a very tasty Turkish meal and a chance to chat about the issues some more. Randy generously picked up the tab at Fora – he can visit again 😉 – so Janie insisted on dropping the young couple back at the Hotel Intercontinental, bringing a most enjoyable evening to an end. Yes, come to think of it, both of them most certainly can visit again.

Andorra by Max Frisch, Rose Bruford at The Half Moon Theatre, 25 July 1989

I went to this show with Alison Benjamin. My log reads:

Alison was going out with one of the Rose Bruford mob – Simon McLinden I think.

That explains why she went to a Rose Bruford production. I went because I was invited and because it was Andorra, a play in which I had appeared at school more than 11 years earlier:

I seem to remember the Rose Bruford mob doing a decent job of Andorra although in truth I remember little about this production.

I’m sure I secretly felt that my school production was just as good if not better but would have been far too polite to say so…

…actually that’s nonsense. I probably secretly realised that our school production was properly “kids amateur” whereas the Rose Bruford production would have been close to professional quality.

The diary is silent about what we did afterwards – I suspect that some eating and drinking was involved, quite possibly with some of the cast.