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London November 2004 |
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Back to London for a much-needed dose of cheerfulness and positive vibes that are currently rarer in Germany than pink elephants. My first trip into the West End led me the straight to Covent Garden and to the Theatre Royal Drury Lane (well, by way of a Cornish Pasty shop as I was starving) in the hope to secure a ticket for "The Producers". Like many others who were luke-warm about the show I jumped at the announcement that the lacklustre Richard Dreyfuss had been replaced by Nathan Lane to reprise his Max Bialystock this side of the Atlantic. And indeed I was able to grab one of the last tickets for Saturday afternoon � a box seat. More on that later. Having successfully completed this mission I next visited my favourite bookshop (Borders on Charing Cross Road) to stock up on new English paperbacks and then returned to Dolphin Square where I could finally check into my room. I left again in the late afternoon and leaving the tube at Piccadilly Circus found that Tower Records had been replaced by Virgin Megastore � what's going on?? Sad to see my favourite shop gone � somehow I never liked Virgin, so I'm now left with HMV to shop for DVD offers only. After a quick browse through the Virgin shelves (overpriced as always) I went to Waterstone's for a tea and a chat with my friend Alexander to hear the latest gossip in the West End. |
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First show for me was "Brighton Rock" at the Almeida Theatre in Islington that evening. The Almeida has built a great reputation for innovative new shows often starring big names from stage and screen and with many of their productions transferring into the West End later. So I was glad I could finally visit this venue and despite my worries it was very easy to find, about ten minutes' walk from Highbury tube station. With only a sloppy Chicken Tikka Wrap for sustenance I was so tired that I almost fell asleep if the hard uncomfortable benches in the Almeida hadn't made sleep impossible. Mind you, it had nothing to do with the show. Despite what the critics said, I really enjoyed "Brighton Rock" and found the spirit of the book well captured. The music by John Barry (of "James Bond" fame) was pretty good, too, though it could have done with bigger orchestrations � but what can you expect in a small fringe theatre? For those who haven't read the book by Graham Greene (which is definitely worth reading, too!) � The story is that of Pinkie, a young gangster in 1930's Brighton, who gets embroiled in a turf war and in his own feelings for an innocent young girl called Rose with a brash nightclub singer called Ida hot on his heels after finding out that he murdered a friend of hers. Naturally the more intimate scenes worked best in this setting, especially those between Pinkie and Rose. It was great to see Michael Jibson of "Our House"-fame again and I hope that he'll build the career he deserves despite the fact that he's anything |
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but a good-looking hunk. Stealing the show for me was Sophia Ragavelas though, a pretty young lady who added so much depth and feeling to the rather dumb character of Rose (who annoyed me thoroughly in the book). TV-star Harriet Thorpe played Ida and was different from how I had imaged the character to be � and she reminded me so much of someone that I spent most of her scenes racking my brain about who she reminded me of (and I still don't know!). Overall a show definitely worth seeing or worth transferring to the West End, but given the current boom of big great musicals there, I doubt it would last long. Perhaps they will at least capture the show on CD. |
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I spent all of Friday morning on Oxford Street and noticed an alarming increase in boots � from clumpy Uggs in all variations and imitations to slim high-heeled leather boots to (have mercy on the fashion victims!) cowboy boots, boots are all the rage in London again. Being the silly fashin victim that I am, I also stocked up on boots, opting for nice comfortable brown leather boots that look really well with jeans. In the afternoon I made a detour to the Victoria Palace Theatre to book a ticket for "Billy Elliot" next year (at 50 pounds a ticket *gasp*) before meeting up with a suddenly much slimmer Erika at the Palace Theatre (bitch!). Show for the evening was the much anticipated new musical by Andrew Lloyd-Webber, "The Woman in White", based on Wilkie |
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Collins' thriller. So I could finally return to the beautiful marble halls of the Palace Theatre which had been occupied by "Les Miserables" for as long as I can remember. But while it's unarguably one of the prettiest theatres in London, it also has very tight uncomfortable seating. And while I had so far dismissed the fuss about "annoying audience members" in theatre forums as exaggerated, I now realized the beauty of such a neighbour in such a cramped space. The lady (who looked like a Patsy Stone-clone and behaved like one, too) held on to a plastic cup of red wine during the entire first act and the smell was enough to make one dizzy. In the interval she stocked up on food and interrupted the first song of the second act, a melancholy solo for Laura with constant "crrrrrrunch" noises courtesy of a bag of crisps, followed later by chocolate (including noisy sucking of her fingers later) and more suck-suck on peppermints. AAARGH! |
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This aside I really enjoyed "The Woman in White". Musically it was a bit bland on first hearing with hardly any outstanding tunes. But that's (in my humble opinion) a problem common in sung-through shows � the songs just mesh together and you can only get into them after playing the CD several times. That's why I prefer shows with some short spoken dialogues that carry the plot much faster on than all that wishy-washy "would you like a cup of tea?"-sing-song. The book captured the essence of Collins' novel very well and was engaging throughout � only Michael Crawford's comedic turn in "You can get away with everything" and the following "seduction" scene seemed out of place in this otherwise serious dark show. But the book did justice to Marian, one of the most likeable Victorian heroines I've ever encountered and Maria Friedman, despite my earlier misgivings about her, gave a fabulous performance, the true star of the show. I also liked the other girls, most notably Angela Christian as the mysterious woman in white, while Jill Paice seemed too tall and strong for the elvish little Laura of the book (but that also meant that Laura wasn't quite the dumb hare-brained creature Collins created). Martin Crewes was a hunky Walter Hartright and had the best song to sing, "Evermore without you", while Michael Crawford's buffoonish Count Fosco just got on my nerves and had little to do with the mysterious dangerous "baddie" of the book. And what's the point in hiring a big star name (and probably paying him a ton to appear in the show) if he's then made unrecognizable in a fat suit?
Much hullaballoo had been made about William Dudley's video projections which seemed to be a "love 'em or hate 'em" issue. Well personally I neither loved nor hated them. I guess if you sit too close to the stage the whirling projections can indeed make you dizzy but from Row L it was fine. |
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I was more bugged by the use of artifical computer projections instead of proper photos that sometimes gave the show a feeling of being an overblown computer game and sometimes less had definitely been more. But there are some great scenes where the projections are truly brilliant, i.e. the long walks in the park, the scenes set in London and of course the train in the final scene. If someone is to blame it's not Dudley but director Trevor Nunn, who too often leaves his characters alone on stage. How in God's name could he leave
Walter and Laura sitting far apart singing their beautiful duet "I believe my heart" straight to the audience instead of have them look at each other, embrace each other or do anything else to create a feeling of two people madly in love?
"The Woman in White" may not be sensation and I can see where all those hoping for "another Phantom" may be disappointed, but it's a good Victorian thriller with innovative staging worth seeing and a fabulous cast. Definitely worth seeing, although I don't see it live much longer than 1-2 years sadly. We finished the evening with some drinks in the pub next door until London proved once more what a modern trendy metropolis it is by calling last orders at 11 and evicting the punters in a not too subtle way not longer after. |
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Having run out of money as usual, I took Saturday morning easy with another stroll around the West End and breakfast at Waterstone's caf� before taking the tube to Olympia to meet my editor for lunch. One word of warning: Before you let anyone invite you for lunch at home make sure the person isn't following the oh so trendy Atkins diet. It might work for Lynda, but I ended up with lunch with two of my very least favourite vegetables: Mushrooms and beans. Forcing them down politely only ended with my so far slight headache exploding into a big migraine. I got terribly sick on the rattling tube back to the West End and just about made it to the Ladies at the Theatre Royal where lunch made its way back up. At least I felt a lot better afterwards! Seeing "The Producers" marked two firsts for me: It was the first time I saw a preview in London and the first time I sat in a box. And wow, I can only say wow! I had been worried about the angle, since you sit at the side of the stage but the view was excellent and you were closer to the stage than possible even from the stalls (very useful in a comic show like this when it's good to see the actors pulling faces). Box BB is also the "royal box" and you do feel like the Queen for a few hours, having your own hallway leading to the "Royal reclining room" where you can spend the interval in plush big chairs under chandeliers far away from the rabble in the main foyers. In the box itself you also get coat hangers, plenty of space to dump your shopping bags and by moving your chair a little as much leg room as you want � all that for �12 less than the top price seats in the stalls. So give me a box seat any time again! |
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I also enjoyed the show itself very much. Granted, I still don't think it was worth all the fuss and hype on Broadway, but it's a great comedy show full of witty one-liners, hilarious scenes and fat opportunities for gifted performers to let rip. It's easy to see why and how this is one of those old-fashioned shows that can make or break a performer's career. It was great to see Nathan Lane and he definitely proved that he had deserved the shopping trolley full of awards he won for his potrayal of Max Bialystock in New York, but honestly, for me it was Lee Evans as Leo Bloom who walked away with the show. Evans, a big star in the UK with his own television shows and many movies under his belt, was just comedic genius. Reserving space on his mantlepiece for some "best suppporting performer" awards should be Nicolas Colicos, who plays Franz Liebkind, the old nazi who has written "the worst musical in the world" � Springtime for Hitler. I had always had some misgivings about making fun of Hitler and Mel Brooks digging up all the old cliches of sausage-guzzling stiff Germans in lederhosen, but Colicos was so endearing and so� well, I hate to say it, but so genuine. He must have spent some time in Spanish beach resorts researching his part, no doubt! Sadly under-used was James Dreyfus, a comedy star in his own right, as Carmen Ghia though.
Brooks spoofs everyone and everything in his musical, so it would really be ridiculous to take offense at the way Germans and Germany are portrayed here (just don't let Joschka Fischer near this musical). I still don't think it would be wise to stage it in Germany, where people are likely to get offended as soon as Liebkind asks Bloom and Bialystock to don nazi insignia, let alone stomach the over-the-top finale of "Springtime for Hitler" when the chorus forms a big dancing swastika. Still it was a great show, with too many funny moments to recount here. Definitely worth seeing � though I wonder who will be able to replace Nathan Lane when he leaves at the end of the year. |
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After the show I strolled around Covent Garden a bit, then went to Leicester Square for my traditional KFC meal (don't ask), made a fool of myself by slipping and falling flat on my arse in front of the Trocadero and finally reached the safety of the Haymarket Theatre to see "Becket" � the main incentive of this trip. It wasn't sold out by far and many people were clutching Half Price-Tickets � I HATE that when I have coughed up full price. But at least I sat in the first row (well, row B, row A was empty) and had the perfect view on of my favourite movie stars, the gorgeous Dougray Scott, former Prince Charming and potential future James Bond (not with that chest, he won't). |
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"Becket" has nothing to do with Samuel Beckett, the playwright who created, among others, the endless tedium "Waiting for Godot", but is a play by Jean Anouihl about Thomas Becket, the archbishop of Canterbury (who was assassinated) and his friendship with King Henry. Overall it was okay, although the second act dragged and the poor old fellow beside me kept nodding off. Well kudos to he who deserves it: This was entirely Jasper Britton's show. He delived a fabulous performance as King Henry, showing the difference between a gifted stage performer who knows how to deliver a speech to a live audience and a movie star. Sorry Dougray, but you just couldn't hack it. What's more, he used the same annoying whiny crybaby approach that already bugged me in his last movies, especially in "Ripley's Game", where a single painful look had done much more than a long tearful whinge. It didn't help that I got to see him in his jocks � give that man a gym membership and quick or at least feed him properly, this was almost painful to see. I often allowed myself to drift off, trying to picture him (fully clothed, mind you!) on a certain sailing ship or � inspired by Michael Simkins' hilarious book "What's my motivation?" � mused on the acting profession in general. |
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Overall it was a trip offering a perfect mix of shows - a small, serious musical on the fringe, a large innovative Victorian musical drama, a laugh-out-loud comedy and a good play giving me the opportunity to see one of my favourite movie stars live, plus some good shopping and meeting lovely people. Though after seeing both Sean Bean and Dougray Scott fail on stage, I wonder if I should be looking forward to seeing Gael Garcia Bernal live on stage next year� |
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