Festival - What Festival?

When I read in The Stage that the Strike-A-Light team had received an ACE grant for the first time, I was understandably excited. I may not have lived there for 20 years but I’ve visited Gloucester regularly and noticed the major decay that has set in. Gloucester has a rich and diverse history but it’s a city that finds it difficult to celebrate that history. There is racial and social friction, a major drug and alcohol problem and high rate of unemployment. OK, that probably describes many towns in the UK that are suffering in the wake of recent financial crises. The sound of seagulls in Gloucester always used to remind me of the seaside.  Now it’s the boarded-up shops and the empty parades that give the impression of a costal town, down-at-heel and in desperate need of some TLC.

Of course, there is a positive side. Gloucester has a rich sports heritage and an enviable network of sports facilities and venues. What it lacks, and has done for a long time, is an arts venue. A space where the community can congregate and celebrate the rich cultural diversity of the city and its history. When I lived in Gloucester in through the 1970s and 1980s, I saw how the arts developed in the city first hand. The closure of the major sports hall and stage at the local leisure centre marked the end of major concerts - anything from Lenny Henry to Siouxsie and the Banshees used to play here. The council converted the old guildhall in the centre of town into a burgeoning arts hub, while local am-dram group the GODS stepped up their game, renovating a bingo hall into the mid-scale Olympus Theatre at 450 seats. The more modest King’s Theatre of about 150 seats, was also renovated and operated by a collective of small-scale amateur companies.

Over the next twenty years things changed dramatically. The Olympus has long since closed - sadly a business cannot run on love. The money raised by loyal volunteers over the years was squandered on vanity projects and bad management. The King’s is still running, operated by a cabal of middle-class, middle-aged amateurs determined to keep it a closed shop. The Guildhall, once a major hope for the city's arts scene has been stripped of any charm and energy it may have once had.  The handsome stone edifice is now more reminiscent of a mausoleum, with nothing on the outside indicating the potential of the interior.

There have been noble attempts to rally the local arts community but the people who hold the purse strings to any funding are, perhaps understandably, keeping them tightly closed. Strike-A-Light's NPO status came at just the right time. I watched from afar, to see how things progressed and plotted to attend the opening of the festival. They appeared to be engaging with the community and encouraging experimentation with form in theatre, dance and music. Great stuff!

Before the launch I thought I’d pop down and see some friends in an amateur pantomime in Gloucester at Christmas in the Guildhall. What was very obvious was the Guildhall’s inability to market live entertainment at its venue. I said as much at the time on social media and the Strike-A-Light team assured me that things would be very different for its week-long festival in March.

So off I went to Gloucester in March. Well it seems as if I was the only person who knew that the festival was happening. The Guildhall as I passed it, was the same dead space as it had been at Christmas. Nothing outside to engage passers-by or to even indicate that ACE was helping fund a week-long event. No bunting; no flyering; no street theatre; nada.  In fact, there was one poster, outside the Tourist Information Centre and inside there, 4 sets of flyers to indicate the professional gigs that were taking place. There was nothing outside the Blackfriars complex either, where tonight’s gala was about to happen.

Strike-A-Light are committed to engaging with the Gloucester community, programming 2 festivals a year; delivering  a year round Artist Support Programme that provides nationally significant partners for emerging artists and developing a year round Arts Participation Programme for children and young people led by professionals.

There was absolutely nothing to indicate that Gloucester was having any sort of festival. What you have here is a huge marketing failure and I can't help wondering where the support from Gloucester Council, Gloucester Marketing, Gloucester Guildhall or indeed the new Gloucester Culture team was. It certainly didn't appear to be in the promotion of this event and yet, judging by the guest list, representatives from each were all present at the gala launch.

Top Ten of 2017

I realise that there are plenty of these lists knocking around at this time of year. Mine doesn’t appear to contain the usual suspects but it does reflect the diversity of the productions that I’m lucky enough to see.

In no particular order.....

Salome, Hoxton Hall
The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Menier
And The Rest Of Me Floats, Rose Lipman
He Shoots! He Scores!, ATS
Rapunzel, TRSE
Spring Offensive, Omnibus
Superhero, Southwark Playhouse
We Are Lions, Mr Manager, Tara Arts touring
All Our Children, Jermyn Street
Gabriel, Richmond touring

A Huge Weight On My Mind

I am putting on weight. It’s not happened quickly but it’s been steady and pretty unrelenting. I put it down to several things. Firstly, contentment. It's a pretty well known fact that that happy and contented people can put on a few pounds. I am pretty happy in my life, albeit there have been some major stresses and strains this year that have affected my wellbeing. Stress is another factor for putting on weight. For nearly four years now, I have been out of a daily routine. Work is forthcoming, but my hours are far from routine and I get very angsty about combining a work/life equilibrium. 

Anyway, the upshot of this is that I need to seriously consider re-jigging something in my life to make this work. I adored running. Absolutely loved the ease and the freedom of it. Sadly, it didn’t love me. The strain on one of my big ‘ole flat feet was too much and I have been trying to nurture them back to working order for the last 6 months. The podiatrist has suggested that I don’t take up running again very soon. 

My go-to cardio exercise has always been swimming, which I still do as much as my time/energy levels will allow. I’m still a 2k in 40mins swimmer, which isn't bad. A decent pool is hard to find however and while Epsom has a great gym, its pool is poorly managed. I get a better swim at Wimbledon but of course, that adds 10k to my commute to work. Cycling is a decent cardio exercise of course, but I’m no racer and get a bit stressed cycling in torrential rain or wind - it’s an age/confidence thing, I think. Also, even on a good day, packing an inordinate number of clothes when I leave the house. For example, if I am at work and have a play in the evening, I may have to pack a gym or swim kit, a formal shirt and tie for work, a casual shirt and trousers for the theatre and possibly an extra pair of shoes/trainers, depending on the weather. Apart from anything else, the forward planning can become pretty draining. 

Age is also an important factor and at 52, it’s not going to get easier to loose weight.

Anyway, I need to shake things up a bit and I’ve got a few days ‘off’ coming up. Needless to say I have a writing deadline in that mix, but hopefully things will be a bit clearer. The reason I am writing this post is to help me try and identify the changes that have happened in my life in the last four years that have affected my weight. Oddly the big things that have happened include: a personal trainer, regular sports massages, increasing my swimming/gym membership, the increased use of apps and the addition of an activity tracker. It’s almost as if that since I started to invest in my fitness, I started putting on weight. I wonder if this is a common occurrence?  

When I first met Sean, I had put on quite a bit of weight, which may well have been related to giving up smoking. I then proceeded to go on my most successful diet ever, loosing approximately 23 kilos or so over the period of about a year. I don’t need to do that again, obviously but I do need to find the sort of routine and commitment that I once had. I got down to about 85 kilos and I guess, I’d be happy now at with being under 90 kilos. If I get under 90 kilos, I might be able to - carefully - start running again. 

I guess that I am looking at loosing about 15 kilos over the next 12 months. It seems doable on paper, but there again, I’ve been trying to do it for four years and progressively failing. Lets see how I get on over the next week or so. Autumn/winter is never the best time to diet - I think my body naturally craves pies, stews and dumplings through this season. But there's also Stop-tober, which I should aim for - drinking is not just shite for calories, it also encourages bad food choices. Let's see what I can put in place over the next week or so to begin with. 

Autumnal Shades

Yet again it's been a week of contrasts at the theatre, for me at least. My week began with at the New Wimbledon with Selladoor's production of Flashdance, a musical stage adaptation of the 1980s hit movie starring Jessica Beals. It was disappointing not least because I have now seen a few Selladoor productions and rather enjoyed them. This was simply a bad choice of show featuring a lazy and surprisingly dated book and a score that oddly lacks dynamism. I felt my review for The Stage pretty much said it all but it didn't stop the Stage Manager from questioning my criticism on Twitter.

I was back in Wimbledon the following evening for Child ofthe Divide at the Polka. This was my first ever visit to the Polka, although I pass it regularly on the way to the gym, but I have to say it's a lovely space. Of course, it doesn't have a bar but it is a children's theatre so what would you expect. I found Child of the Divide enlightening, although the speech before and after the show is critic catnip as far as I'm concerned - save it for the aftershow party.

My third theatre trip was to the Stratford Circus - a venue I hadn't been to for at least 15 years. It's changed a great deal, feeling much more like the Arts Centre it professes to be. I liked the show too - Big Foot, a story about what it means to be a man, at least amid the South London Guyanese community.

I will say at this point that the unifying feature of each show so far was that every one had gone up late. In total, I had spent more than half an hour longer than I should have waiting for the lights to fall in auditoriums.  It only annoys me because I am usually early for a show and will expect it to start on time. You'd think that after 20 years I'd have gotten used to it.

Anyway, my final show of the week was the one I was probably looking forward to the most. The Soulless Ones at Hoxton Hall is an immersive piece in the manner of the classic Hammer horror movies. Sadly, it was neither scary nor exciting. There was a big, chewy script and a decent nod to the design but I began to lose interest quite quickly after I'd checked out every room. What concerned me the most however was the cost of the ticket. Of course, I didn't have to pay but at £48 is far too much for what was more a promenade production rather than real, immersive theatre. I didn't feel involved in the action in the slightest, merely an observer. It's a great idea but Hammer need to rethink it's creatives if they are planning this again. For £48 I'd at least expect to taste the blood of Dracula!

Theatrical Diversion

For me, theatre is a constant source of diversity and this week has been no exception. I’ve seen a new adaptation of an old 1970s made-for-television movie and a touring production of a classic 1990s play that became an international hit as a movie. I caught the revival of a 1990s devised musical based on the songs of Louis Jordan and a new production of a play based on a 1990s best seller. I’ve also seen two completely new pieces of work and it was one of these that really caught my attention. 

And The Rest Of Me Floats features a cast of trans/non-binary/gay performers addressing how we categorise gender. It was a beautiful piece of devised theatre and definitely worth a look for anyone hanging around Hackney with just over an hour to kill. 

The thing is, that for all that I read about the lack of diversity in theatre, it’s fantastic that you can have a week like this. Jack Rosenthal’s The Knowledge at the Charing Cross featured an understandably Jewish sensibility, as does Driving Miss Daisy. I have to say however that the overarching theme of ‘Daisy’ wasn’t so much anti-semitism or racism as much as it was about the process of ageing. Five Guys Named Moe opened at a pop-up theatre in Marble Arch and features an all-black cast in a hugely entertaining music and dance show and Above The Stag staged arguably Australia’s biggest love story Holding The Man. Oh, I almost forgot Deadpan’s play about the afterlife called Gate.

Gays, Jews, the Dead, Trans, Blacks, Australians - my theatre is awash with diversity and that’s a huge reason to celebrate. Of course, the pantomime season will be along soon, and that usually alters the balance - but things are changing. 

Follies

I managed to get a ticket to the National Theatre's production of Follies and was a little nervous about what I would make of the show. I have always made it perfectly clear that while I like some of Sondheim's work, I am not a wholly devoted fan. I came to Follies pretty late in life and the first production I saw didn't impress. I wondered at the time if it was the show that I didn't like or simply that production?

The show does contain some of Sondheim's greatest stand-alone songs including I'm Still Here and Broadway Baby but having caught the National's production, I will stick my neck out and say that I am still not a fan. Also, I feel that the National have done a good job, rather than a great one. The decision to run straight through for 2 hours 30mins is questionable and it has nothing to do with being desperate for a pee, although I realise this must be an issue with some people.

I was so thankful for Who's That Woman?, a big production number in the first 'half', because by then, I was completely over the story of those two unlikeable business men and their ex-chorine wives. I found myself far more engrossed in watching their younger selves emote around the stage.

I rather like Tracie Bennett as Carlotta but the Loveland sequence at the end dragged the show out a good 20 minutes longer than it should and the anthem Loosing My Mind, appearing so detached from the story, ultimately fails to move me. I can't help but feel that this final sequence serves the writer much more than it serves the audience.

I've been fairly ambivalent toward Janie Dee in the past, but I think she steals this show as Phyllis from right under the nose of Imelda's mad Sal. The set is a triumph and the 1970s and Ghostly Girl costumes excellent but don't get me started on the poster. Originally Follies won seven Tony awards and lost money. It's changed shape a few times over the years including the insertion of an interval but from my point of view it's an over inflated work, padded out with some strong production numbers.

Time Is Money

In the last year, the trend for event theatre seems to have taken a foothold. By event theatre, I mean the epic four to six hour drama that may or may not appear in two parts. Harry Potter and Angels In America come to mind but there's also the Roman plays at the Barbican and several other pieces that will not only take a chunk out of your purse but also out of your weekend. It's not a fashion I warm to particularly and in many ways, it's just as elitist as hoiking the price of the tickets up to £130+ a piece.

I probably spend more time in a theatre in a month that many people will spend there in a lifetime. I am extremely grateful for this luxury but who except ardent fans and theatre critics have time to spend a day in a theatre? I work five days a week and will often be at a theatre in the evening. Two days off will mean catching up with feature writing, conducting interviews and, well, living....

One of the joys of being privileged enough to spend time at the Edinburgh Fringe is that you will invariably see shows that have a running time of no longer the 90 minutes. Most of them are an hour long but part of the joy is experiencing tightly crafted pieces that work within that kind of time frame.   Edinburgh is not exempt however, as The Divide runs at about six or seven hours and despite being written by the estimable Alan Ayckbourn, turns out to be a pretty ropey affair that could probably have been successfully edited to an hour. It is transferring to the Old Vic and God only knows how they're going to sell it on the back of such 'mixed' reviews. 

By all accounts, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child and Angels In America are both fine pieces of theatre although in truth, I was far more sorry to have missed the Roman plays. My point is however, that for most people time will be far more valuable than sterling. Keeping the prices low may open the theatre up to more people but asking them to stay for the day just assumes that they are part of the leisured classes. 

The Dark Stone

At face value, The Dark Stone by Alberto Conejero imagines the relationship between a tortured prisoner of war and his young guard. What raises the dramatic stakes is that the prisoner is Rafael Rodriguez Rapun, the inspiration behind Lorca’s Sonnets of Dark Love and as he faces almost certain execution he must charge his guard with the safe-keeping of a selection of Lorca’s poetry.

This tightly knotted two-hand play takes a little while to draw us in but succeeds less on the characters and more on the situation. Rafael's passion for Lorca and his work leaps from the text but there is more to the guard Sebastian than a mindless soldier. Conejero explores his story first. How as a child, the Fascists killed Sebastian's family and brainwashed him into joining them during the Spanish Civil War. Sebastian spends as much time protecting Rafael in prison as he does guarding him, well aware of how cruel his masters can be. He understands that Rafael is doomed but he has to decide why and how he can help him.

 

This is an intense play and the chemistry between Santiago Del Fosco as the melancholy Sebastian and Jaime Menendez as Rafael binds it together securely. Fosco captures that lost innocence of a child forced into a uniform, proud of his gun but instinctively cautious of its power. Rafael is a more complex character, used to hiding and unsure who he can wholly trust. Bereft of all hope he must develop some sort of relationship with Sebastian, or be forgotten by history. He needs to go to the grave with at least an idea that someone will know who he was. Menendez's is a wholly absorbing performance, honest and ultimately heartbreaking.

 

Sergio Maggiolo's understated direction is complemented by a simple yet immaculate design, using the thrust stage of the Cervantes to its best advantage.

Drag Seen

The drag act has always enjoyed a special place in the hearts of the British public. From the earliest days of music hall and pantomime to the  organised chaos of LIPSYNC1000 at The Glory, drag has been a thriving part of the working class entertainment scene and in recent decades a reflection of the socio-political climate in the UK. Drag can be Danny La Rue on Mother Kelly's Doorstep or it can be Panti Bliss eloquently campaigning for Marriage Equality. It can be a history of music with Hinge & Brackett or it can be Johnny Woo, subversive and wholly contemporary.  

I have to say that I was particularly pleased to eventually get to see La Voix at The Crazy Coqs last week. I have seen the artist several times on stage over the years in various guises. Enough to know that he is not only very talented, he is also extremely adaptable. Through pantos and drag shows, La Voix finally gained wider public recognition as a finalist on Britain's Got Talent.

So what is La Voix's schtick? What's her USP? That's very simple - talent. La Voix works the cabaret bar like a seasoned pro - frighteningly quick off the mark with lots of fresh, topical jokes. Believe me, I've seen drag queens using the same material ten years down the line and it shows. But it isn't La Voix's wicked sense of humour that defines this show, it the vocal talent. Live vocals, of course. Check out the wonderful Connie & Carla to see how unusual that is on the US drag scene. La Voix has a thrilling vocal technique that raises the bar for all other performers and an uncanny gift for vocal impersonation that is founded in respect and admiration for the artists he mimics. 

La Voix is an old-school talent with a cutting edge sense of humour. The act is hugely entertaining and fits comfortably into the stylish surroundings of The Crazy Coqs. I'm not totally sure of future dates, but judging by the healthy full house on the Wednesday evening that I caught the show, it's a guaranteed draw. 

A Question Of Attribution

One of the things that I am most proud of as a critic for The Stage is the publications commitment to credits. It is our job to supply a as full a list as is practical with every review that we write. All theatre is a collaborative process and while you may only remember the actors, or possibly the director or musical director of a show, there is usually a whole regiment of professionals who have enhanced your experience. If you can see and hear the actors, it's due, in part at least, to a lighting and sound designer. They haven't usually walked on stage in their daywear, so a costume designer was probably involved too - as was a set designer, sound operative, follow-spot operator, stage manager and possibly a wig mistress too.

Of course, this all depends on the size and shape of a production and particularly at festivals and on the fringe, the credits are more likely to be fewer in number and often doubled - the artist on stage may well have directed the piece and designed the lighting! I remember my first visit to Edinburgh, where The Stage doesn't let up its credit listing in the slightest, being shocked that not only was a programme unlikely, but it was rare to get even a list of credits. In Edinburgh, we usually have to harass the director/stage manager as they are struggling to strike the show. I have to say this did lead to a particularly embarrassing moment after one play left me utterly distraught - I was fighting a losing battle to hold back tears - while asking the director who had designed the lighting.

In a world where 'low-pay' and 'no-pay' are regular tag-lines and the market is flooded with talent, I can at least understand why people may work simply for the experience. Wrong or right, if it's a project you're passionate about and there's no sense of exploitation, then why not. What worries me is when there is no credit for your work.

At festivals like Edinburgh, I also understand the necessity of thrift and that even a photocopied credit list may be beyond the budget. Thankfully, at least the website or facebook page will carry a complete list of credits. Recently however I went to see a show that was touring the UK that told a rather different story. For want of a better description, it was a pop anthology show but it featured dialogue as well as the songs, a headline act, a support act, a dancing chorus, a set, lighting and sound. I wasn't surprised that there was no programme and the website seemed pretty thorough with credits for the star, producers and sound and lighting people.

What did disturb me was that the website failed to credit both the support act (three names) or the dancing chorus (eight names). Since when did this become acceptable? If nothing else, there should be a credit where a credit is due. A half-arsed acknowledgment on stage during the applause is not acceptable and the performers really need to speak to their agents. Ignoring a credit is unacceptable and while we may have grown immune a scarcity of technical credits on fringe productions, don't let this bad habit spread.

Best Laid Plans

The last blog post that I'd written never actually published. Having read through it, what surprised me the most was the ambition in it. I am still running, just about although it's a slow process for me as I'm constantly wary of damage to my foot. I am indeed back on my bike, thank god. Easily the shortest time to get from A to B in London. I'm not the worlds fastest cyclist but it's quicker than both train and bus to get to work. 

What's missing of course is the planned holiday in February. Fat chance. Sean has been talking about a weekend away, possibly to Edinburgh, but while its seems like a lovely idea, I'd rather invest in a week away somewhere hot. We used to go away at about the end of May each year. I know I definately need a break but it's sorting out the schedules to work. 

Stuck On A Train

For me, December has long been about travel. Not the exotic travel that some critics are afforded at this time of year, when high-brow goes out the window in favour of dodgy innuendo and outrageous costumes. For me, December is dominated by the pantomime schedules and negotiating where I can be and when. This year was always going to be different. This year I had a full-time job, which would occupy much of my energies through the day while my evenings remained entrenched in fairyland. 

Amid the flurry of purchase orders and deadlines, something had to give and that appears to be my waistline, which has expanded with all the ease of a butcher filling a sausage. I am however in the process of making a change to this. I am back on my bike, as my evenings are freeing up slightly and I've been back in the pool already, albeit there will have to be a pause over Christmas. Thankfully, the Better Organisation, who run my group of pools and gyms are only closed on the big day itself.

I am supplementing my exercise by running at the moment. Not great distances but enough to make a difference. It wasn't that long ago when I felt that I couldn't ever run as part of my exercise regime but now it's definitely doable. The thing is, losing weight is going to be a lot harder this time around. I am older and my working timetable is more erratic than it's ever been and food and wine are easy comforts for stress and fatigue. I'm going to claw it back though. I am away in mid-February (hopefully) for a holiday. Somewhere hot with a pool and a view worth painting. I intend to look the best I can on that holiday. I love having goals, with something to aim for. So I'm off on another journey - wave if you see me! 

Second Nature

I distinctly remember my first encounter with a regular mobile phone user. It was in 1999 in a cafe on the livelier side of Covent Garden. The actor I was having lunch with was bewailing some tragic dating crisis and I began to realise that every time he referred to the conversation with his date, his thumb mimicked a texting motion.  Of course, when I asked him if he realised he was doing it, he denied it but for me, it was the first instance of how communications technology was surreptitiously embedding itself into our natural lives.

 

When I moved to London in 1996, mobile phones were still fairly alien to me. Sitting on a bus and suddenly hearing the woman three seats behind burst into conversation still gave rise to universal tutting from other commuters. Oh how things have changed! And boy, have we changed with them? Smart phones are now ubiquitous and access to email and social-networks 24/7 has become an invaluable work-tool for any on-the-go professional. Can you imagine any one of your theatre colleagues - backstage or onstage -  not owning a mobile phone? 

 

And yet thankfully, some will say, the use of this device is still proscribed in theatres. Rightly so, perhaps, but the truth of the matter is that the use of mobile phones is rapidly becoming second nature. In a theatre interval, the rush for a quick fag has almost been superseded by the rush for a signal to check email or deliver an #intervaltweet.

 

If this is the case, how long will it be before an enterprising producer spots a gap in the market and creates theatre where use of mobile phones is allowed or even encouraged? Where people don't have to unplug from their social network in order to engage with others?

 

Kerry Michael over at TRSE pioneered a Twitter-zone in the venue, reserving seats specifically for those who wanted to tweet during a show. At the time, it was a brave move and whatever the results of such a practice, it had to be considered a step forward in the evolution of the theatre-goer. 

 

Some people will undoubtedly see this as a slippery slope, but every time I hear a story about mobile phone use in an auditorium, I think back to Edinburgh last year. During a particularly precarious piece of circus theatre, an usher surreptitiously stepped-up to stop a woman from filming the event on her phone. The woman was gripped and ignored the usher's hissed instruction to cease and desist. Suddenly she realised that the usher was trying to attract her attention and she turned to reveal not a mobile phone, but a glass of wine in her hand. 

 

More recently at the Theatre 2016 conference, Ian Strickland of Charcoalblue dared to stick his head above the parapet and suggest that Smartphones could be integrated into the theatregoing experience. Why not? Let's face it, there was a time when women actors, naturalistic acting, artificial light and perspective were all considered daring innovations in theatre production. Is there no way Smartphones could help people engage in theatre too? #justsaying

 

Paul Vale

The Landor

As is so often the way on the fringes of journalism, the news of the Landor's closure came as no surprise. Not because I am some economist with insight but because I'd heard reliable gossip, off the record, and digested the information accordingly. Amid the venues obituaries that have since sprung up over social media, I personally can't help but feel less than nostalgic about the building. It is, after all, a function room above a pub and if the brewery who run it lack the foresight to include a theatre in that space, then it's their loss. I refuse to mourn the space and shall loose no sleep over the fact that I'll probably never set foot in the over-priced boozer again in my life. I have no reason to and even less inclination. 

For me theatre has always been more about people than buildings. Had somebody told me that Rob McWhir, Rob Cook or Andrew Keates were retiring from theatre, that would be cause for misery and mourning. Had somebody asserted that Richard Lambert had decided not to produce his annual Lambco Festival, then that would be a shame. Good god, I had some wonderful times at the Landor but it had very little, if anything to do with the building.

What I witnessed there - laughter, tears and talent will continue to be provided by the same people who generated such emotions. I'll just experience them in a different environment. 

Grief and Support

It's been a busy time and in many ways very distressing. At an international level, the horrific events in Orlando almost seemed too surreal to comprehend. Homophobia and historic gun laws combining to devastate the lives of, not just the victims, but their families and loved ones. The outpouring of grief and support, not least from London, re-affirmed my belief in the human spirit. Anyone who opposes gun control legislation in the US has blood on their hands. End of. 

Then just as the world is reeling from these senseless deaths on the other side of the Atlantic, this ridiculous EU Referendum took an unexpected and mortifying turn, as MP Jo Cox was shot and stabbed by a right-wing extremist outside the library in Birstall, West Yorkshire. Amid one of the filthiest, scare-mongering, mud-slinging campaigns I have witnessed in my adult life, it left me and most of UK in shock. Never mind the suspects mental health, his comments have established a political motive for her murder, rendering the act an assassination. This is the sort of fuck-wit behaviour that happens in other countries, not in the UK. There are politicians out there with blood on their hands in the UK too, it seems.

By Computer you say...?

While I don't subscribe to Sky Arts and therefore missed Computer Says Show, I did catch one of the opening nights of Beyond The Fence, the musical that was created by computer - mostly. The show itself wasn't bad at all and the subject matter - the Greenham Common Women's Peace Camp - is definately worth the musical treatment. It's just that this treatment seems damnably old-fashioned. In fairness, human authors Bemjamin Till and Nathan Taylor tried their best to stay within the limitations of the computers, accepting so much and then making informed choices but to be honest, one has to question the relevance of the whole project. 

The computer has been fed with the story arcs of 1696 musicals - who knew that there were that many?! - and from this, a plot suggestion, period and geography could be mapped out. The humans then turned to google to discover their setting. It's all very daft; a genuinely Big Bang Theory excercise that any student of musical theatre might pop out without resorting to state-of-the-art software or a PhD. 

To be honest, the result isn't half bad. It's certainly flawed and I was tempted to question these flaws at the Q&A last night but it was getting far too late and their is no point in questioning creatives still glowing from the euphoria of an opening night. If Till and Taylor had presented this show as their own work, I would have suggested that it was over-produced at the Arts, considering the stage it was at. I'd expect to see this at the Landor, Union or perhaps the Southwark as a work in progress, rather than a finished piece. it's ending is schmaltzy, despite some pithy scenes and there's an over-reliance on comedy in the second act that doesn't always work. The love-story is wholly underdeveloped so that when Mary accepts Jim's offer of togetherness, it grates against the solid independence she has shown throughout the show. Also, at Kim's death, Mary disappears inexplicably leaving Margie to comfort the mute George, simply to shoe-horn in her own song In Our Hearts. 

This is a female-heavy show and while the characters are well rounded, I wonder what the computers said about the lack of male voices in song and story. Also, a very minor point, Helen talks of failing at ballet as a child, until she sees Xanadu and gets roller skates. Xanadu was released in 1980 and as she is celebrating her 21st birthday in 1982, it will have made her 19 years old and not the ballet school drop-out we are led to believe in her song. It's a minor point but a reference that fans will pick up on, I'm sure. 

I imagine the excercise in Computer Says Show makes for interesting television but it certainly hasn't produced a hit musical. It's not a terrible show and I think the Greenham Common story begs a further, more imaginative treatment than any computer might offer. 

Fifth Of A Sixpence

I treat the news that Half A Sixpence is being revived at Chichester with mixed feelings. The original by David Heneker and Beverley Cross is a minor favourite of mine, particularly songs such as Buy Me A Banjo, The One That Got Away and of course, Flash, Bang Wallop. So quite what Stiles, Drewe and Fellowes are going to do to it, I’ve no idea. The additional songs that Stiles and Drewe brought to Mary Poppins allowed the film musical adjust fairly smoothly to the stage but they are in themselves pretty unmemorable, save perhaps Practically Perfect. 

The truth is that Half A Sixpence is already a decent musical, with a serviceable book and score. Fellowes ability to paraphrase The Great War in Downton Abbey to just three episodes will probably mean that the book will be effectively edited but why can't Stiles, Drewe and Fellowes adapt their own version of HG Well’s Kipps? Why piggy-back on the work of others? It’s getting initial billing as the ‘Flash Bang Wallop Musical’, so they are even marketing it based on an original song.

I wonder if this will become a new trend? Let’s hope not.

Dolly Fever

When talking about commercial theatre I occasionally refer to the bubble that we live in in London. A figurative one that is, not physical. I occasionally find myself waxing rhapsodically about venues such as the Landor, Union or Southwark or performers such as Julie Atherton or even Mark Rylance when a blank look appears on the faces of those around me. The following however surprised even me.

When the news that Bette Midler was to take on the role of Dolly Levi in a revival of the classic Broadway musical Hello Dolly! my personal Facebook and Twitter feeds juddered in a frenzy of excitement and further-casting speculation. Opening in March 2017, the show has already weathered the storm of many Broadway and West End revivals including – in what is possibly a record as far as musicals go – an all-Black cast led by Pearl Bailey and Danny La Rue cross-dressing to play the famous matchmaker. The exuberance of Hello Dolly! made it a key cultural lynchpin to the Disney movie WALL-E and the Streisand movie is solid-gold – the last of the big MGM musicals with a cast of 1000s and no-doubt a cavalier approach to budgets.

However when I went home recently, none of my gay or stagey mates had heard about it. Not a sausage. I was breaking news that was already a week old. So much for the age of communication!

This New Diet

So I’ve been on my diet for just over a week now and it’s proving to be quite a challenge – to eat enough! On the good side, it’s teaching me to be a little more adventurous with my cooking. As facile as Joe Wicks’ recipes and assumptions are when it comes to my knowledge of cooking, his lairy videos #Leanin15 recipes provide a spark of inspiration for meals. Essentially his is a Low Carb, High Fat diet, combined with higher carb meals following High Intensity Interval Training. 

To be honest, circumstances have not allowed me a proper training regime yet, but I have upped my swimming and even begun pushing toward HIIT – in this case 500m then rest for 60s x 4. It’s a slow process of habit breaking for me, but the results of this diet have been particularly good and I’ll squeeze back into that suit for the wedding if it kills me! Not my wedding, I hasten to add but Gareth’s.

Not Quite Home

Last week I was asked to review a show in my home town. Well, not quite my home town I should say but its much richer neighbour, Cheltenham. My visit was to the Cheltenham Everyman to catch the opening of the London Classic Theatre’s production of The Birthday Party. Now I have to admit that while Harold Pinter is not really my cup-of-tea, I understand his import in the new wave of dramatists that were nurtured in the late 1950s and 1960s.

His voice must have jarred enormously with those used to listening to the works of Rattigan and Coward but the cut and thrust of Pinter’s dialogue paved the way for Orton, who is one of my favourite dramatists. In fact, there is an eerie similarity between Sloane’s relationship with Kath in Entertaining Mr Sloane and Meg’s relationship with Stanley…anyway, I digress. The point is that I was in Gloucestershire again and visiting the Everyman for the first time since the early 1990s.

 

I have to say, in keeping with Cheltenham’s reputation as an exclusive county-town, the Everyman is a beautiful theatre. A Matcham no less, and the renovations that had taken place about five years ago only served to enhance its beauty. Also, being a regional theatre, it has the added luxury of plenty of leg-room (in the stalls at least) so I could practically stretch out and watch the play unfold at my leisure. 

 

The problem was that due to the nature of the touring set, this intimate play seemed to be about 100ft away, atop a raised platform on the already raised, pros arch stage. It wasn’t helped by the fact that the theatre was half empty and quite frankly, understandably so. It was a fairly miserable night and you’d have to be a major Pinter fan to fork out good money to see this. The production lacked excitement and energy but I also couldn’t help thinking that it seriously lacked contemporary appeal. 

 

Many of its cultural references would probably seem alien to young audiences today and whereas Orton motivates his game of cat and mouse with sex, Pinter’s equally dark sport uses nostalgia as his most subversive weapon. It’s a good play but one that a director could easily get wrong. However to be honest, my main concern was that unless this was a set-book, where will the London Classic Theatre find its audience? Not in Cheltenham, that’s for sure. In fact, the original production of Pinter’s The Birthday Party ran for only 6 performances before closing to mostly vile notices. This production is playing at Cheltenham for only 4 nights, before moving on to a laudably extensive tour around the UK. Hopefully both the production and the audiences will flourish a little along the way.