In For The Kill

In a flurry of keep-fit and theatregoing I have found it difficult to catch up on here. Lame, I know but it’s the only excuse you are going to get from me. I shall start with the shows I have seen over the last couple of weeks and they have been a very mixed bunch, I must say.

Firstly, there was Dracula at the Broadway Studio in Catford. This is, to all intents and purposes, my local theatre. It is the only one I get to by bus – there’s a reason I don’t want to park my bike outside it – and I have seen some very good plays and musicals there including Thom Southerland’s Singing In the Rain and Carousel plus an extremely good Diary of Anne Frank.

Dracula was in problems from the get-go, with dialogue so familiar to us from the countless movie versions that it was difficult not to snicker when Dracula suggests that Jonathan Harker ‘Enter of your own free vill’. It has to be said that John Godber’s adaptation isn’t bad but it does require a good deal more imagination than is shown here.

The following Monday had me at the Landor to see The Glorious Ones, a musical about a troupe of Commedia Dell Arte players in the 12^th century. Not a particularly exciting prospect, The Glorious Ones turns out to be rather sweet, featuring a wonderful score and a rather subtle message. It was also a moment of contemplation for me as I realised the composer and lyricist team - Lynn Ahrens (book & lyrics) and Stephen Flaherty (music) – are probably my favourite writing team today.

When I saw Lucky Stiff a few years ago, I remember I enjoyed it and Ragtime really moved me when I saw it last year. I also enjoyed A Man Of No Importance at the Union two years ago despite the production flaws. Of course it was this team who wrote Some Girls from the musical Once On This Island, a song that obsessed me a couple of years ago after hearing it in Blink Twice sung by Reed Sinclair.

The Moment I Met You....

This weekend I have been on a flying visit to Belfast, no happily the airport outside London I have visited the most. The occasion was Claire McCauley's 40th birthday party, where my presence was something of a surprise - to her at least. I have known Claire now for about five years and in fact, I have been to more Halloween parties with her than I have with either David, her brother or Vince. Claire always enjoys dressing up for a party and I usually relish a challenge with her make-up - Tippi Hedren was a high point and the hilarious inflatable pumpkin costume was the easiest.

I thought the party would be a straightforward affair but of course David had a 1970's theme in mind that was great fun to play up to and I am very pleased to say my Afro stood the test of time. Babysham and Cheese and Pineapple were the order of the day and as usual all the guests, including their mum and dad dressed for the occasion.

Whilst I was part of the surprise for the party I was nothing compared to the real surprise, where David and Vince are taking both Claire and their mother to New York in five weeks time. Tears were shed and cocktails flowed and it was one of those sadly now rare evenings where I got to dance the night away.

David - you are a wonderful brother, son and husband. David and Vince, thank you for a great weekend and enjoy your holiday.

Black, White and Red All Over

Monday night saw (finally) the arrival of the biggest theatrical event of the season - Andrew Keates Black & White Birthday Ball. OK, well maybe not the biggest event of the season but I had bought new trouser for it, so for me it was big-time. It was an opportunity to catch up with lots of people I know and love and despite the last minute change of venue, it was actually rather a fun evening. The pleasure was doubled by the fact that my man came with me, although both of us were quite knackered and had to leave early, ready for an early start. Try to birthday on a weekend in future, Ange - then i'll be up there singing with you!

On the down side, as we made our way to the planned venue on Monday, it suddenly dawned on me that the Archer Street Cocktail Bar was actually where Barcode used to be. Barcode is no longer there and I was rather upset, I have to say. OK I had not been for a while but Barcode, or Barcode Soho as it was later called was my playground of choice not too many years ago. Barcode was were I would go to flirt, dance and indeed I pulled on many a happy and probably drunken occasion. It put me in mind somewhat of the disappearance of so many gay bars in London.

As I mentioned, I was hardly ever a barfly, but I can't help feeling a little sad that so many names from my past are slowly evaporating from the gay landscape..... Barcode, The Coalherne, Bromptons, Kudos Bar (the first gay bar I visited in London) and of course, The Stag. Hopefully Vauxhall will maintain some sense of community and the RVT, Griffin and Eagle will still be fun places to visit in ten years time.

Cycle Route Through Soho

It's been quite a week of opening nights with many of my friends and review colleagues at different shows at practically every night of the week. For my sins, I only really had one show, which I attended in an official capacity and that was A Song Cycle For Soho, downstairs at the Soho Theatre on Thursday.

As many, many of my colleagues in the office will tell you I was not looking forward to this event. Revue shows are a hit-and-miss affair and revue shows of new work such as this have to be particularly special to engage my enthusiasm. Add to this the extraordinary respect artists have occasioned Soho, which when you take a step back and look at objectively, is a particularly vile and increasingly touristy part of London. There is little to romanticise about stepping over a vomiting, drunk, euro-trash after all.

Thankfully the creator of this song cycle, Andrew Brinded wanted to avoid the cliche ridden praise of Soho's less reputable reputation favour of a more left of centre approach. There are a distinct lack of "tarts with hearts", no "runaways" and thankfully very few "cor blimey cockerney accents".

A Soho Song Cycle For Soho is very, very good as you should expect of a revue written by about 20 of the UK's leading musical theatre writers. Witty, poignant without turning schmaltzy and above all entertaining. I have never doubted that there are some very talented composers out there, what there are lacking are some good book writers and to my way of thinking, Brinded is the shining light of this venture an worth keeping an eye on for the future.

On a slightly different note, thanks to the inordinately bad press reception at the Soho, I ended up sitting behind a pillar practically in darkness. This meant that I was unable to check out the programme to see who wrote what as I went along. It turned out that the song I found the least successful in this show was written by none other than Stiles & Drewe - pedestrian, repetitive tosh, I had scrawled in my notes. Ooo-errr