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Post by Nicholas on Jul 16, 2016 3:50:59 GMT
Did anyone see Simon Stone’s The Wild Duck at the Barbican in 2014 (I know the answer’s yes, I remember it being (rightly) very well received on here), and has anyone seen this, his movie adaptation? It only just arrived at my local cinema, caught it a couple of days ago. 2014’s The Wild Duck felt to me like a very domesticated, down to earth, down under take on Ibsen’s highfalutin masterpiece, and thus a humane, human, devastating piece about consequences, with the subtle naturalism of Stanlislavsky but the unstoppable tragic inevitability of Sophocles; The Daughter is exactly that on celluloid, and almost as good. Stone proves a natural with and master of the camera – with a still observational approach, really canny overlapping editing, and occasional handheld Dogme diversions, Stone has this unfolding (as he did on stage) with effortless naturalism (not some faux-documentary style, just invisible unobtrusive observation and a real sense of catching these characters uninhibited, as they felt at the Barbican in that set) – it helps that Stone’s ear for naturalistic dialogue is so on the ball, so – as with on stage – the dialogue just flows (indeed, there’s almost something Mike Leigh-y to some scenes in this movie). It’s well interspersed with shots of nature, shots of communities, shots of life going on, which I think is Stone’s way of cinematising his roughly reflexive glass box from the Barbican: to show this not as high drama on a high stage but implicating you and me as bystanders, domesticating it, and showing how high drama happens not on a high stage but high drama happens in its own little world whilst life goes on around it. That much is beautifully done.
{Spoiler - click to view} I had qualms about the ending, not because he rewrote the Ibsen (I believe he did that at the Barbican anyway, not an Ibsen I know well) but because of how he rewrote the Ibsen – Hedvig’s suicide is built up to with musical cues and melodrama which the film’s thus far eschewed, then Stone replaces the honest, quiet, devastating ending from the Barbican with something that at best approaches arthouse uncertainty and at worst apes Hollywood sentimentality. It works, but I preferred the tragic follow-through and familial honesty with which the final scene was played at the Barbican.
Beyond that, very much recommended, not least a hitherto unmentioned stunning cast (no-one from the Barbican, unless the duck was recast) – Geoffrey Rush vile as only he can be (why hasn’t he been on the London stage?), Sam Neill sad as only he can be, Mark Brendanawicz surprisingly moving, and Odessa Young a name to remember in the future. I’ll be really excited to see what Stone cinematically does next – the movie was a very strong mood-piece, his writing’s effortlessly natural and cinematic, and he’s clearly very intelligent in how he puts tab A into slot B. I’m sure this will be on DVD soon, well worth catching, whether you saw and liked it at the Barbican or not.
P.S. Thinking about it, alongside this, the two best films I’ve seen so far this year have both been debut efforts – The Witch and Son of Saul. Probably just fortunate release schedules, but really exciting to see burgeoning talents granted wide exposure for their first works when they’re this good. Incidentally, while I’m waffling about cinema, as theatregoers you should see both those movies as well: the Arthur Miller aping in The Witch makes it very fun for a theatregoer, akin to The Crucible meets The Thing, with a fantastically witty, fantastically scary way of saying something rather religiously and politically important (if my interpretation is correct, which of course it is); Son of Saul is just devastating.
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Post by Nicholas on Jul 16, 2016 3:42:45 GMT
Forgot to write about this (been distracted by Brexit and Wimbledon, been a strange few weeks for a few reasons) but the news that this may be transferring justifies my egotistical need to share my thoughts.
You’d think that, Ross being unfortunately programmed almost alongside Lawrence After Arabia, watching it would be a strange experience of deja vu. It is, but not because of that – Fiennes holds himself the equal(ish) to Laskey (who I thought was tremendous in a mediocre script, though the more I’ve thought about Lawrence After Arabia the more I like it) and the two works occupy their two worlds. The more unfortunate timing coincidence is the play’s premiere in 1960 and the movie’s premiere in 1962 – after fifty years of praise for that masterpiece of a movie, Rattigan’s play struggles to find a need to be revived, sadly. There is stuff to admire in the production, and it’s an interesting footnote of a play, but it’s a bit of a damp squib, ultimately, partly down to Rattigan’s lack of skill at a biographer, and mostly down to Lawrence's legacy living on most prominently elsewhere.
To be oversimplistic, Rattigan writes about Rattiganesque characters – repressed, quiet, introverted, uncertain, homosexual or tacitly homosexual. Lawrence should be all these things – indeed, aside from not being upfront about his homosexuality, he is. And at moments, Lawrence becomes a cousin to Hester Collyer or Crocker-Harris or Major Pollock – these are mostly the moments where Lawrence is Ross, hiding himself, struggling to refrain from being himself yet desperate not to be himself. There’s a wonderful Rattigan play about this moment in Lawrence’s life alone, and an irritatingly promising hint at the exposition-free play this could have been (and would have been had the movie come out first, one assumes). The issue is less that Lawrence isn’t such a Rattiganesque man (the Ross scenes work well in that Ratty way), but that Lawrence’s life is more about the events than emotion, the outer not the inner life. And so, just as the play sets up an interesting conflict of Lawrence both becoming a legend and trying to shed his fame, Rattigan flashes back to Arabia, scraps the Ross character conflict, and just tells a biography of a man in the war. Imagine if half way through The Deep Blue Sea Helen McCrory packed up her bags and not just join the territorial army, but talk about joining it, endlessly. Because there are so many events in the life of Lawrence, there is so much exposition in this play about him, and exposition trumps repression, quietness, introversion, uncertainty and homosexuality, and eventually the play stops being about the character conflict and starts being about character plot, plot and nothing but plot. Lawrence as a Rattiganesque character does not correlate with Lawrence the military man, and where the Ross scenes are character scenes about his inner life, the bulk of Ross is Lawrence in Arabia. Rattigan tells the story in a way that a) doesn’t suit his insular style and b) was done better by Bolt.
You see, the sad, simple and should-be-irrelevant but must-be-mentioned truth of the matter is that this 1960 play has since been wholly eclipsed by 1962’s Lawrence of Arabia – not just Lean’s movie, but Robert Bolt’s study of TE Lawrence as a repressed, quiet, introverted uncertain homosexual. For all that we remember the film for David Lean’s vision, for Maurice Jarre’s iconic score, for Nic Roeg and Freddy Young’s stunning series of set-pieces, and for Peter O’Toole’s eyes, it’s as much a masterpiece for Robert Bolt’s script, a script which would probably make for a better stage play than Rattigan’s Ross. In A Man for All Seasons Bolt wrote a focused and clear study of identity, will, self-belief and the difficulties thereof; in Lawrence of Arabia he wrote the same but with better scenery and more camels. Where Rattigan has to detail the major events – the plans, the raids, Arabia itself – one shot in a movie does this for Bolt. Where Rattigan has to have Lawrence explain his sexual uncertainty, his manic privacy, his horror at warfare, Bolt leaves it to some well-placed questions and O’Toole’s eyes, and says more about introversion with less dialogue than Rattigan can say when filling a theatre. Where Rattigan has to suggest or discuss the madness and brutality of war, Bolt can sit back, let Lean do the heavy lifting, then pick up where Lean left off. Bolt's character, as such, is a more convincing introverted, repressed homosexual Rattigan usually writes, but with none of the over-expository biography Rattigan has to write. Much as the best scene in Lean/Bolt’s Doctor Zhivago is the scene of Omar Shariff taking in the horror of the Cossack attack through his eyes, Bolt’s show-don’t-tell attitude to acts of warfare allows for a more compellingly introverted tale of an introvert that Rattigan can’t tell, and paradoxically shouldn’t – why on earth would a repressed, secretive semi-spy be so explanatory in what he's doing and how he's feeling? So, to have either the real Lawrence or the Rattiganised Lawrence spill the beans is out of character. Now, this is why Brenton’s play ends up just having the upper hand – Brenton knows not to repeat an iconic film or now famous plot-points (apart from the Saint Joan mumbo-jumbo, he dealt with exposition just fine), whilst Rattigan’s play, coming before Bolt, now reads like a run-of-the-mill first draft to a history lesson that needs more introversion, more control, less telling and more showing.
Despite the play being a somewhat stilted character study, Joseph Fiennes was very good. Where Laskey played Lawrence by displaying years of age in his youthful little face, Fiennes has a faux over-confidence that suits this play well. He has that sense of doing the right thing but not knowing why it’s right, from his phoney salute to his lax leadership, and gives a compellingly uncertain performance. He’s very good, actually, he conveys youthful uncertainty developing into permanent self-doubt very affectingly. Peter Polycarpau, as always, was strong. Michael Feast was meant to play a middle eastern warlord, but when I saw it he was understudied by Alexander Meerkat. Or Feast was very hammy.
Both because the film’s since outshone it, and the play’s not much cop itself, Ross ends up as Lawrence of Arabia but with dialogue instead of set pieces, exposition instead of characterisation. It’s one time where the movie is the better medium, far more capable of show don’t tell, and even disregarding that Noble is no Lean, there’s a visual flatness to this too, a flatness which comes from this being, ultimately, a sub-par Rattigan with more plot than it’s worth. I’m being rather negative, truth be told I enjoyed it well enough (slightly less than Lawrence After Arabia), but it’s a funny one – Brenton turned Lawrence into a milquetoast Brentonesque politico and shuns the biography, but Rattigan doesn't quite turn Lawrence into any form of Rattiganesque self-doubter because the plot gets in the way, and all Ross ends up being is a moderately interesting, passably entertaining retelling of a biography told better elsewhere. If only the play had been written three years later, what an opportunity that would have been. Its dramatic raison d’etre seems to have been less to turn Lawrence into Major Pollock and more to tell Lawrence’s life to a large audience, and sadly along came Bolt and along came Lean, and as such the play’s sadly dated. Fiennes is very good, Rattigan less so, Noble less so too. A three stars perfectly good, perfectly entertaining piece of work, but with the caveat that – dare I say – the movie has a better script, and not everything is better in the theatre...
P.S. I’ve been to Chichester a few times now, but strangely never visited the cathedral. It’s lovely! And absolutely worth seeing for that wonderful tomb, of course.
P.P.S. Forget Rattigan, Bolt, forget Brenton. It’s Bennett who’s written best on Tee Hee Lawrence.
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Post by Nicholas on Jul 3, 2016 19:55:27 GMT
Well, thank god we're not kowtowing to an unelected minority anymore.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 30, 2016 15:04:58 GMT
Oh, and this on the Tories.
A) We might have Gove as our PM. I truly believe Corbyn would convince more people than Gove. I truly believe a penis on a stick would win more votes than Gove. It’s a fact of life that leaders aren’t always elected, but there’s something terrifying about the options of unelected leaders I’m forced to bow down and take/bend over and take. If it's Gove, riot. Worry. Don't let it happen.
B) There’s something really rather underwhelming about the thought that our second female Prime Minister will make history through her position through THIS. Perhaps that’s good – gender shouldn’t be an important part of the political outlook, a good leader is a good leader, where's Liz when you need her – but it’s really weird to think something historical like that will happen by chance. That said, it might be a May vs Eagle election, and I think having women at the heads of both government and opposition is something relatively unprecedented globally. That is a step in the right direction, surely? History happening in an underwhelming way? Is it even historical? Hey ho.
C) Boris, Boris, Boris. His leaving is not answering our prayers, it’s delaying the inevitable, unless we make sure our memories are strong. As I said a while back, whoever takes over (which I predicted would not be Boris, he’s a canny one) will have to inherit the stink he’s caused, which he’s wisely farted over to Gove (who can’t win – my mother works in education and he was making it up as he went along, devaluing her profession and undermine its academic credibility, he knew nothing about it and characteristically undermined actual experts in lieu of his guesswork). When Boris runs in 2020, he’ll still stink. Don’t let him forget. He’s not running now because he didn’t believe in BRexit – he’s said enough pro-EU things on record to prove that – and wanted to move his career, not his country, forwards. His political career, focusing on ‘The Churchill Factor’, shows him as someone who wants to be remembered for speechifying and uniting a country, not fearmongering and untying its unity. By leaving now he’ll try and let the EU decision he regrets blow over, the BRexit he begrudges become someone else’s stink, then come in to fix the job. Never let him forget the stink. It must be his permanent albatross.
D) Austerity is in breach of international Human Rights. It's unbelievable and I still can't believe it, so it's worth re-iterating as often as possible. Left or right, Tory or Labour, Pro- or Anti-Austerity, something must be done against this. It’s really hard for me to believe my country, my democratic, fifth-largest-economy, Eton-educated royal throne of kings can be in breach of the Human Rights convention.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 30, 2016 14:57:37 GMT
I accept the idea that Corbyn is a decent and principled person, but he has proven himself a spineless and ineffectual leader and needs to step aside for someone who is willing to tackle anti-Semitism and who is more able to unite the party than cause it to eat itself from the inside out until we have no viable opposition party. I joined the Labour party to vote for Corbyn as leader, and I hate that the party is so busy in-fighting that it would rather spend years arguing about and discrediting and no-confidencing its own leaders than doing its job, but it really needs to unite, now more than ever, and with Corbyn at the head, it's just not going to happen. Damn you, Baemax! Just spent an hour writing this (991 words and counting), then you say it in a paragraph. Well, thanks a lot for your conciseness and insight. Going to post this in a huff now. (By which I mean, nicely said, agree with you, to hell with your brevity though).
There is absolutely nothing wrong with having a party led by a decent and principled person. I will fight for that. But are ALL other Labour MPs indecent and undisciplined? The issue is he’s not a leader. I think he should be a front-bench politician. I think he should be making his voice heard loudly and often. I just don’t think the place for him to make that voice heard is as leader.
Like Baemax, I’m a Labour member, and I voted Corbyn (second choice – voted for Liz Kendall first, 4%, should probably stop voting given my record). So, I was, to quote Harold Pinter in his open letter to Blair circa 1997, chuffed to my bollocks when he got in (I’d love to know what Pinter would have made of all this). Now... I still admire him as a politician, but the awful truth we have to face is, however much I can admire him as a person and a politician, he was not a leader during the referendum. For weeks I told everyone that he was playing the long game cannily, waiting as the Tories to turned it into an in-fight so he could swoop in and win it for its politics, not its infighting. Then... He didn’t. And that’s why I’m having to face hard truths about what my £3 is doing to politics, and why I’m thinking very carefully about who I can support in the next election. If his competitors are solely Blairite centrists, he’ll get my vote again, but if there’s a Kendall (slightly less left but equally pro-social equality and far more convincing politically), that’s where my vote’s going. Or I may well abstain.
I still believe that the right-wing press have gotten Corbyn wrong, as per his reputation. I still believe he’s electable to the majority of the public, I still believe he’s a necessary political force, I still admire him for his strong left stances, I still think he’s been given short shrift from press, I still think that if his cabinet supported him the country would – but none of that counteracts that seeing him in a leadership role has made me question his leadership. Even Gordon Brown (a better leader than he was ever allowed to be, and a more convincing politician away from the big role) was a leader during the two referenda, speechifying to the people, collaborating as necessary, face seen, points made. During this one, Corbyn was a back-bench politician at best. I heard more from four-per-cent-Liz-Kendall about staying in than I did from fifty-eight-per-cent-Jeremy-Corbyn.
Much like the EU referendum itself, we’re asked to sum up a hundred political stances into a yes/no, and my vote in the next Labour leadership debate will likely not go to Corbyn; but that’s not a betrayal of him nor me turning my back on him, I simply think that wherever he deserves to stand in the Labour cabinet, it’s not at the front. I think I may write to Labour and let them know it's not as simple as a stab in Corbyn's back, I still believe in him and want him to be a major part of the party, but when I choose a different leader it's due to his lack of leadership skills and that alone, and Labour needs his political ideology and positive forces. I’m a good navigator but I can’t drive, so my position in the car needs to be in the front seat, offering directions, whilst someone with the capacity to drives. That should be Corbyn’s job.
It’s easy to forget that when this now-war-criminal came in in 1997, Blair seemed a decent, principled, anti-establishment wunderkind. Things could only get better under him. Admittedly he was very centre-left, but still he brought youth, energy, anti-Major, anti-London, anti-Westminster fire to proceedings. 67-year-old-wunderkind Corbyn has done that too – but his inability to preach his politics broader than the converted, to stand up against the establishment, to unite people and party, his lack of leadership during his time of leadership is destroying the party I love. It’s turning people to Tim Farron (who’s held himself up as a more principled LEADER than Corbyn, merely a more principled person). What we need is not Angela Eagle, a Blairite, nor Corbyn, a man with problematic baggage and unleaderly stances. BRING BACK LIZ What we need is for some relative back-bencher (dare I say, a Jo Cox) to stand up, to bring a different energy, an equally staunch leftism but the leadership skills of a Blair, of a Wilson, of an Atlee. In a time where the Tories and their austerity is actually in breach of the UN’s human rights act, countering them should be easy. Corbyn can't, a Blairite shouldn't. Someone at the back needs to step forwards.
Incidentally, one school of thought says that’s Farron. Perhaps. Perhaps Labour voters should defect to the Lib Dems, just for the moment. Perhaps we need a Denmark-esque system of permanent coalitions between minority parties, collaborating to bring their political opinions to a compromise (at least, that’s how it seemed on Borgen). Perhaps Corbyn, as with Borgen’s Sidse Babbett Knudsenn, will start his own party, convince all his minority, take up a minor role in a majorly important government, then quit the show and make a movie about bondage and butterflies.
That’s it. We need Birgitte Nyborg. Bring back Borgen.
P.S. This petition is doing the rounds, and I think I can say this relatively apolitically – I’d urge all of you to sign it. It regards an independent office monitoring the legitimacy of political campaigns. I think we can all agree this referendum’s been a terrifying indictment of how mistruths can lead to results and it’s not melodramatic to say our very lives are at risk of people willing to fudge the facts to progress their careers. It’s neither left nor right, neither Leave nor Remain, I think something like this is necessary for any future referenda, and if you agree that this entire farrago (it’s not a farce – a farce is perfectly timed, impeccably prepared and ingeniously choreographed, where this is a fart) has been too untruthful, please please please please please sign. www.change.org/p/restore-truthful-politics-create-an-independent-office-to-monitor-political-campaigns?utm_source=action_alert&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=609257&alert_id=NlfZbuulHI_4mnNUk0YkHneQ8HNfIHmlXc2pfzTeXnfD0y3%2Ft9uCeE%3D
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 30, 2016 2:55:47 GMT
If you don’t know, the London Gay Men’s Chorus version of Bridge Over Troubled Waters has been released as a charity single – a mere 99p, for a couple of good causes, stands against the horrors of what we saw, and brilliant to listen to to boot! Come for the great cause, stay for the great music.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 26, 2016 22:28:44 GMT
If the vote had gone the other way it would have been like "end of story". Democracy cannot be applied a la carte. Either the majority wins or you have an elite which decides when to take democratic decisions into account, at which point you are no longer living in a democarcy. Actually, Steve's petition was started by a Leaver concerned about the vote going the other way. He’s been vocal about it – he believed Remain would win by a narrow margin so wanted a second referendum. Now Leave’s won by a narrow margin, his petition is our petition, and he sure as hell begrudges what his own petard is doing to him. I find that democratic. Incidentally, Farage said that a narrow Remain win would warrant a second referendum. 48/52. He’s been quiet about that. But this issue, this demand for a second referendum, is not anti-democracy. Let's go back two or three years, to the approaching 2015 election. Some years before, when I was at uni, my friend became very involved in our local food bank, something of which I’d been unforgivably oblivious. Seeing the number of people reliant on this go up, under Tory rule in the fifth largest economy, I was convinced that there was only one way to vote in 2015 – anti-austerity, anti-poverty, anti- this. Our country was starving, still is. After five years of an austerity that worsened the economy, crippled the poor and benefited the rich, who wouldn’t vote against that? As it turns out, enough people. As a loser, that made me angry, but as a loser, I lost. Now, there are issues with First-Past-The-Post (I still maintain Proportional Representation is the way forwards, Alternative Vote was a joke and they knew it) and their majority may be tiny, but in our democracy the Tories clearly won fair and square. Democracy. That’s that. Were there underhand tactics, press manipulation, and lies on either side? Duh. But fewer than now, more informed debate, more public truth-telling, and a clear victory. It was a fair election, fairly won, and we losers had to concede defeat. What we wouldn’t do was take a lie lying down: had the Tories said “We will prioritise the NHS” and then not (ahem), we’d be on the streets making sure this didn’t happen. We’d cross the bridge of lies when we came to it; on May 8th, we’d lost fairly. This too was won by a tiny mandate – if one in fifty Leavers voted Remain, we’d be in a different world (either way, the victory was too small to say “The public has spoken”, and how can anyone use a 50/50 split to judge a majority?). But the result came only two days ago and already the man who said “We’ll curb immigration” is maintaining levels of immigration (an issue that convinced well over 1 in 50 voters), all the people who stood behind that unambiguous £350,000,000 poster have redefined those terms like they redefined Child Poverty (an issue that convinced well over 1 in 50 voters), the economy has gone down sharper than promised (an issue that convinced well over 1 in 50 voters) and we’ll have to wait a few months in a leaderless country unsure what we’re doing, who’s doing it, under what terms and when (an issue that convinced well over 1 in 50 voters). As I say, voting Leave was not a mistake; voting Leave for these reasons WAS. This was not fairly lost by us Remainers, but unfairly won by the Leavers. There’s anger in the air. People were told to ignore experts, and lied to by those pied pipers. Those people deserve a second chance. If there’s a snap election, I do wonder how many Scotland-supporting NHS-loving cash-strapped Leavers would like the chance to show the lying Borises, Goves and Leave campaigners what’s for and turn to Remain, truth in their mind, new emotions in their heart. It’s not sour grapes for us losers; it’s sour grapes for the Pyrrhic victors who've lost it all. Lied-to Leavers deserve the chance for their voice to represent their views – not Gove’s lies, not Boris’ stink, not Farage’s racism, but their love of the NHS, their reasonable concerns with immigration, their economic dissatisfaction with the EU’s issues. We are now, as we speak, on a bridge of lies; on June 25th, we’ve lost unfairly. I’m not taking these lies lying down. P.S. Matthew, I’m no economist, and whilst the facts are readily available, I frankly barely understood your articles. Instead I trust experts to give me them in a way that speaks down to me. The single worst thing to come out of this farrago was Gove’s “I think we’ve had enough of experts”. Gove (Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford, 2:1) has done more damage with that one line than anyone. He’s told us that your information is bogus, my emotions are political. Against that, there’s no counter-argument. That's terrifying. What an awful political world. P.P.S. Steve, Boris won’t be the next PM. Boris has lost by winning. He’s made promises about more than policy, promises about emotion, and already those are broken. As Dylan sang, "Everything Is Broken", and as Dylan sang on the same album, "We live in a political world/Wisdom is thrown in jail/It rots in a cell/Is misguided as hell/Leaving no-one to pick up a trail" (but then again, the album after, Dylan sang "Wiggle til you wiggle right out of here", so perhaps that’s enough Dylan/Brexit quotes). But whoever leads, we can’t forget the stink. Cameron’s gone because of Boris’ stink. His successor, be they Boris or be they nobody we know, inherits that stink. Whatever they say about Brexit, we have to reply with Boris. He can go, but don't forget him; never forget him. P.P.P.S. We have to get angry at the politicians who flat-out lied to procure a victory And the ones who had the power to change the outcome, but sat back and did nothing. Who are they, in your eyes? I ask out of genuine interest. My social circle is a socialist circle-jerk, and I find it pitifully myopic that people write articles in The Guardian, in the New Statesman, in the i100, then expect Mail, Sun and Express readers to take heart. If I wrote for the Guardian, I’d be embarrassed at how little I did to preach to the unconverted. Have you ever heard of Owen Jones, Laurie Penny, Polly Toynbee? Morons. These people need to know how little they’re doing, that their actual audience are theoretical houmus-eating champagne-socialists, whilst their target audience go reading rags that lie to them. Telling the middle class “The working class won this referendum, and they’ll lose the most from it” (as has been written, in the Grauniad) is such a backwards, nigh-on offensive way of dealing with the working class – turning them into a scapegoat, turning them into a theory, turning them into a ‘them’ – so nothing will change. That’s why there needs to be proper regulations, regulations which matter – at work someone had a Sun, and it was racist headlines and pretty pictures and emotional vitriol aimed at ‘the foreigner’, and the way to counter-act that isn’t to write a lengthy footnoted Comment Is Free in a left-wing rag’s online corner, but to take that Sun to task. P.P.P.P.S. Felt for a long time now democracy doesn't work. The people are stupid and don't deserve a vote. Don't get me wrong I would have fought for my vote and one hundred years ago I would have fought for female suffrage. I thought it great when black South Africans were able to vote, when France ousted the Nazi's in 1945, when Germany unified in 1989 and the wall came down etc etc etc. But mature democracies don't work. Give me a dictatorship anyday Of course, been waiting to post this clip for months now.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 26, 2016 2:25:26 GMT
I feel angry. You should too. I hope I’m not ruining this wonderful reasoned debate, but I really need to get this off my chest, and if this ends up too long (of course), too angry, too one-sided, too vitriolic, I don’t apologise, actually, I feel that after the last three months this needs to be said (albeit by someone smarter, more articulate, more informed and more influential than I – I apologise for my lack of political nous, but not my lack of moderation in my anger). This is no longer a Brexit issue, it’s not a Leave or Remain issue. It’s an issue about how ugly the country’s politics, press and rhetoric have gotten, how insincere and untruthful it is, and how dangerous that is.
I voted Remain, but I spent weeks contemplating Leave, waiting until I was fully confident in my decision before going to the ballot box. Had we left because, as Theatremonkey states, the EU is no longer a simple system of trading partners and hopefully we’ll return to the EEC, great! Had we left because, as Matthew states, so much of EU policy is common sense we can implement outside, great! Had we left because, as Steve’s dentist states, EU regulations place sometimes ludicrous limitations on sometimes reasonable technology and developments, great!
But did we? We’ve left because Boris wanted to lose but write on his Prime Ministerial CV: “Good enough public speaker to almost win an unwinnable campaign”. We’ve left because Cameron wanted to keep the coalition going, over-won that bet, then proved so hateful a figure that, for many people, this was a referendum on whether we like Cameron or not, and blimey do people not like Cameron. We’ve left because xenophobic politicians blamed immigrants for the crushed economic situation of the working class, and good and decent non-xenophobic people believed them.
I can believe anyone here who voted Leave did so after a considered appreciation of the facts, an understanding of the economics, and personal experience dealing with issues, but I can’t believe 52% of voters did so. Headlines of mistruth with back-page corrections. Months of glorious promises broken the morning after. Expertise mocked and anti-intellectualism encouraged by Eton/Oxbridge graduates. THAT won the election. The campaign was twisted, manipulated, scapegoating and dangerous; my anger is not at Friday morning’s result but at Friday morning’s inevitable broken promises and multiple instabilities. I’m angry at the headline-makers, the promise-breakers, the Oxbridge graduates clambering over Cameron’s corpse to get to the throne. Leave or Remain, you should be too.
So we have to get angry, and I speak not to embittered Remainers but the lot of you. Don’t get angry at ‘old people’. Don’t get angry at ‘xenophobes’. Don’t get angry at all ‘Leavers’. I’ve read articles blaming all of those, wrongly. It’s the source. Bad reasons swayed good people. We must not blame good people. We must hate the bad reasons. We have to get angry at the politicians who flat-out lied to procure a victory, and the press with their own agendas. Leavers and Remainers all have to get angry at the Sun and the Mail and the headlines of lies, and at UKIP and at those buses, those posters and those lies.
So the conclusion I’m trying to limp towards is that the lot of us, Leave and Remain, must be angry not at the result, but at how it was gotten. But this anger has an outlet: Murdoch and Letts and Farage and Johnson – anyone who publishes lies in their papers, anyone who promises lies in their policies, and our country which lets this run unregulated. I don’t know how we demand it, but we must demand a moderated, regulated press, and reasonable, honest politics – in law – before the next general election, otherwise the way the rhetoric is going, we’ll be in an ugly, untruthful place and the consequences, well, turn to history and it’s not hyperbolic to worry about you-know-what.
We need press regulations. We need political regulations. We need campaign lies to be illegal. We need national newspapers to be truthful. How we do this, I don’t know, but given the way this campaign made extremists of us all, has affected futures for present leadership, and pushed people to breaking point and people broke, we can’t have this happen again. However you voted, you have to demand this, and we have to demand this now.
P.S. On the news last night, a man was weeping with joy as he heard the result. “I’m 80, I won’t live long to see it, but I’ve finally got my country back”. Many people my age feel angry at him, an older voter cutting off possibilities for younger Remainers for tenuous reasons. And I was angry. Not angry at him. I felt sorry for him. I felt angry at the people who told him his country, our country, was gone, and who convinced him this was taking it back. If I believed the country I’d fought for belonged to Brussels, the NHS I rely on is being bled dry by the EU, and the jobs and houses my children and grandchildren relied on were taken away by immigrants, there’s only one way to vote. But now he’s got his country back – but he doesn’t. The promises made to him are proven untrue, he’s got no more influence today than he ever had, and the only person possibly with ‘his country’ back is Boris at best. I felt angry not because an 80-year-old man has placed restrictions on my 20-year-old life, but because an 80-year-old man did so out of passion misplaced and manipulated. I didn’t feel angry at him, I felt angry for him, angry on his behalf, sorry for him, and it’s that anger I feel everyone here – smart, well-read, politically conscious people, be you Leave or Remain – needs to feel. He was lied to. He must feel betrayed. He wasted his vote. We can’t let that happen again. We need to control these campaigns.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 25, 2016 0:20:33 GMT
“I can say I love London. I can say I love England. But I can’t say I love my country. I don’t know what that means.”
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 18, 2016 1:28:58 GMT
one has to wonder at your generosity I'm working on it, Parsley. There is too much "generosity" about. Give me a ticket for it and send me to Meanness school, where I can take "Talk to the hand" lessons. I hope I don't start shaking hands or clapping hands, as I'm like that. Anyhoo, Old Parsley used to advocate making your own mind up, and never trusting the critics. New Parsley thinks you're "a Tw*t" if you're out of "the consensus." What happened to Old Parsley? Steve, never get more mean! There’s a real pleasure in knowing that there are people in this world who almost never can give one star, who seem to feel real displeasure at stooping as low as two, and who tend to be able to find that one, teeny morsel of good in the worst shows in town, a needle of goodness in the pooey haystack of the theatre we all too often see. Your levels of analysis are something to be truly envied, but it’s even nicer to have your niceness around! In fact, when did you last give one star?
Also, how did you and Parsley spot each other at the thing? When Parsley enters a theatre, I assume storm clouds gather in a foyer, dogs bark in warning, and those in the cheap seats chant Oh Fortuna, which may be a giveaway. Or I imagine eyes across a crowded room, yin and yang... Anywho, genuinely curious what gave you away.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 18, 2016 1:22:26 GMT
It’s not an adaptation, but I’ve always thought New York, New York is a truly amazing film. I think what Scorsese evokes is the style of musical that would have evolved had musicals never gone out of fashion: not a 1950s musical in a 1970s world per se, but a 1950s musical after 20 years of political and social change, stylistically true to its roots and thematically true to its era. It’s not pastiche and it’s not post-modern, but it’s not a tribute and it’s not a recreation, and I think that confused people and its lack of success did it in; it must be ripe time for a reappraisal. In a post-Watergate, post-Vietnam, post-Summer-of-Love world of darker, less confident, more morally ambiguous movies, it’s the movie musical of its decade, daring to go to the unsatisfactory, unpleasant and morally grey areas of Coppola and De Palma and, well, Scorsese, but still preserve the sing-song stylings of Gene Kelly or Vincente Minelli, and I think making a great movie. It’s not perfect (it’s no King of Comedy, Scorsese’s absolute peak), but I much prefer it to, say, Mean Streets, and I think it’s a fascinating, wonderful and successful anomaly in the history of the medium. And Liza! But the world goes round...
And another shout to Sunshine on Leith, not just a lovely movie, not just Peter Mullan singing (!), but a really strong and genuinely heartfelt book around the Proclaimers numbers.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 18, 2016 1:13:01 GMT
I think the inherent fault in a scheme like this is that it doesn’t get new theatregoers in, it only gets the same theatregoers going. My friends who don’t think they can afford theatre, my friends who can afford cheap theatre but still think theatre’s for the elites, my friends away from London who’d have to pay an extortionate train fare anyway – they don’t get to see these despite the free tickets, and in some cases can't afford to go due to travel anyway. If the Donmar was truly committed to broadening audiences, this pop-up theatre would go on tour, would discount based on finance not age, and would send adverts out to the non-theatre circles so they were aware of these productions and their freebies. Instead, the same regular young faces will go see this – perhaps the free tickets will allow a greater number of financially constrained young faces, but as I say, I’m under 25 and can afford a lot of theatre, where plenty of over 25s I know can’t, and my inner milquetoast socialist, my inner Ken Loach, thinks it’s unfair that I get a free ticket based on my age and they have to pay despite their income.
I was exaggerating a little when I was banging on about having seen these before, but only a little. I saw Julius Caesar for £7.50 (day seat) and Henry IV for £10 (Barclays), both on non-age-related schemes, and I think the people who’ll mostly be excited about that are people like me, lucky enough to have seen the earlier shows, and people like you, members of Theatreboard who love their theatre. Of the free-ticket users, a minority will have seen the other Lloyd productions already, a fair number will have seen these plays in some form already, and the majority will see Shakespeare on a regular basis. This doesn’t do anything to entice new theatregoers, only keep enticing the existing regulars.
Got to say, though, book the free tickets now before you’re 26, if you go after your birthday play ignorant and pretend you’d forgotten, and just go, because Julius Caesar and Henry IV were riveting, haunting, thrilling productions and you really, really should see them! When you go, though, ask the people around you whether they’d ever been to the theatre before or regularly went, and the answer will be a depressingly frequent “All the time!”
You're probably right that people who don't go to theatre at all won't get to know about this (/maybe won't be interested anyway). I don't know in what ways they're promoting it or not so I'm not judging that. The idea of deciding based on the actual wealth of the person sounds fair but also very unrealistic - how would you prove that? You mentioned jobseekers or people from certain districts - not sure how reliable that criterion would be. That could also rule out students or perhaps at least foreign students - and while I realize that is another potentially controversial debate, I don't think closing up is a good idea. So yes while such schemes would be valuable, so are the young people ones I believe. It might not be people who don't go to theatre at all, but maybe some who have seen something more commercial, saved up to see their favourite performer or musical and wouldn't do so to just branch out and try something new; it might open them up to a totally new way of staging plays. I am of course looking at it from a very selfish point of view: these schemes benefit me so I like them, haha. I go to theatre a lot, I have studied it and want to pursue a career in it: but only these schemes, day seats etc. allow me to do so in London as well, where it truly inspires me (in my country theatre is perhaps 5 times cheaper, but also a bit rubbish). So yes you definitely do have a point and this scheme doesn't solve everything, but when I remember the stage when I was only discovering the world of theatre and it was bringing me so much, I think yes please, give that chance to other people as well. Haha thanks for the tip, might need to try it then, if it's really so good :-) EDIT: Looking back at this I realize I must seem exactly like the annoying "all the time" kind of person...but it's not like I had the money and spent it in a pub instead, basically all my money goes to discovering British theatre. I can clearly remember the phase before I studied it when I was starting to go to theatre as a teenager because it only cost about the equivalent of 2 pounds, those are the people I think it is great for. Trust me, you’re not being selfish or annoying – I don’t think anyone here will judge anyone else for wanting to see more theatre, quite the opposite! Besides, I think schemes like Entry Pass are essential a) for our finances and b) for sending a message to young people that theatre is accessible, and I never meant to say they should be scrapped. I agree with xanderl, though, I think they tend to be flawed and have no suitable follow-up for 25 and older. As my time with the cheap tickets draws to an end (less the chimes at midnight, more the chimes at brunch), I’ve started thinking about how the theatre could open up past 24, less for existing theatregoers and more for people who don’t catch the theatre bug so young, or can’t afford to.
With the income thing, I know it’s unrealistic, but there are ways around it. Some theatres have a “Pay What You Can” Scheme (I know the Arcola does, and some cinemas do too). It’s probably a scheme that’s easy to abuse if you’re a selfish cheapskate, but on the other hand it’s also a nice scheme for allowing people without the money to get to the theatre. The West End needs something like this which is open to all ages: less well-off Londoners, perhaps people with hefty travel bills, and students and young people. Alongside Entry Pass-esque ideas, this sends the message that theatre really isn’t just for the rich or the in-the-know, it’s for anyone who wants to find it.
In my theatrical utopia, I’d keep student and under 25 schemes more for the message they send out (Phantom, they’re not entitlement, they’re encouragement, unless they’re taken too far), but I’d also have these pay as you go schemes, also day seats for everyone, and hopefully make money back through full price ones. I’d hire economists and sociologists to tackle these issues practically. I know what I said was unrealistic, but I’m an idealist. You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. With enough cheap tickets for the financially needy of all ages (but nothing free, making theatre free literally devalues it), I’d hopefully have an audience that’s broad, enthusiastic, curious, willing to learn, and ultimately passionate about theatre, and that’s what we want.
I mean, there are also dozens of other issues which stop young and old getting into theatre – lack of decent touring, blogging (self-funding criticism with limited travel funds) making the regions under-represented, the London-centric financial irony of free seats in the third most expensive place to live in the world – but I read about schemes to lure new audiences in, all schemes focused on the young and all schemes focused on money, and I just think “NO! These won’t work! It’s more than money! Don’t lure the young in, lure people in! And keep them there!”
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 17, 2016 17:43:37 GMT
I’d love to know how many of the under-25s going to that have never seen a Shakespeare before. I’d love to know how many hadn’t seen Julius Caesar or Henry IV before. I’d love to know how many hadn’t seen Phyllida Lloyd’s Julius Caesar or Henry IV before. I am not sure if I'll be able to catch this as I am turning 26 in November. But it totally caught my attention and I can inform you that I have never seen Henry IV (seen Julius Caesar in a different country about 6 years ago), never seen a Donmar production and don't know Phyllida Lloyd. So I don't know what you're implying here..?
I think the inherent fault in a scheme like this is that it doesn’t get new theatregoers in, it only gets the same theatregoers going. My friends who don’t think they can afford theatre, my friends who can afford cheap theatre but still think theatre’s for the elites, my friends away from London who’d have to pay an extortionate train fare anyway – they don’t get to see these despite the free tickets, and in some cases can't afford to go due to travel anyway. If the Donmar was truly committed to broadening audiences, this pop-up theatre would go on tour, would discount based on finance not age, and would send adverts out to the non-theatre circles so they were aware of these productions and their freebies. Instead, the same regular young faces will go see this – perhaps the free tickets will allow a greater number of financially constrained young faces, but as I say, I’m under 25 and can afford a lot of theatre, where plenty of over 25s I know can’t, and my inner milquetoast socialist, my inner Ken Loach, thinks it’s unfair that I get a free ticket based on my age and they have to pay despite their income.
I was exaggerating a little when I was banging on about having seen these before, but only a little. I saw Julius Caesar for £7.50 (day seat) and Henry IV for £10 (Barclays), both on non-age-related schemes, and I think the people who’ll mostly be excited about that are people like me, lucky enough to have seen the earlier shows, and people like you, members of Theatreboard who love their theatre. Of the free-ticket users, a minority will have seen the other Lloyd productions already, a fair number will have seen these plays in some form already, and the majority will see Shakespeare on a regular basis. This doesn’t do anything to entice new theatregoers, only keep enticing the existing regulars.
Got to say, though, book the free tickets now before you’re 26, if you go after your birthday play ignorant and pretend you’d forgotten, and just go, because Julius Caesar and Henry IV were riveting, haunting, thrilling productions and you really, really should see them! When you go, though, ask the people around you whether they’d ever been to the theatre before or regularly went, and the answer will be a depressingly frequent “All the time!”
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 17, 2016 16:57:30 GMT
I would like to see more plays with a lot of big amazing parts for women played by women. On the other hand, Ryan would rather see more plays with a lot of big amazing man parts. Ahem.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 17, 2016 14:29:41 GMT
People, Places and Things the night after Denise rightly won her Oliver. I was in the onstage seats, blown apart by her performance and when she came on for a second curtain call carrying her award with a nerdy, 'OMG how did I even get this' kind of look and danced around the stage with the cast while the audience erupted in cheers was awesome. I saw it on its last night at the Dorfman (front row, thanks Friday Rush!), where the atmosphere was electric (and Hattie Morahan was in the audience!). At the end, it cuts to black, the lights come up, and... You’ve never heard such pitifully ‘polite’ applause. Slight clapping and mostly silence. It was like no-one had liked the play. And then, about ten seconds later, something happened. We all recovered. It was bizarre, but clearly everyone there felt the need to just sit, just be quiet, just reflect, and just absorb that stunning ending; a good ten seconds of quiet later, we rose as one, whooped, cheered, and the applause went on for five minutes, ten minutes? One reads about premieres, lifetimes ago, of Chekhov or Noel Coward where the audience applaud all night ("tiara'd women clapped till the seams of their gloves burst"), and this is the closest to that I’ve ever seen in our quaint desensitised capital. It was an ovation and a half, while Gough ran round the stage, punching the air, like a victory lap – much as I keep saying how great the script and show and other cast were (and it's true), it will be Gough’s performance that goes down in history, I genuinely believe that, and on that final night we clearly wanted to let her know that this was historical. Absolutely one of my best nights in the theatre, what a reaction, a beautiful way to wrap up a stunning show. I bet it’ll be electric this Saturday. Wish I could go.
In fact, one of the joys of theatre is, despite its ephemerality, shows have an outer life that’s far from ephemeral. Having only caught the end of PPT’s NT run, I’ve loved, truly loved loved loved, reading the slowpokes amongst you finally get to see it and finally love love love it yourselves. It’s meant, selfishly, that I’ve gotten to experience the show again and again and again and again and again and given what a special one-off it is – stunning new play, perfect director, hugely underrated supporting cast and DENISE DENISE DENISE DENISE DENISE – it’s been such a pleasure to discuss it further, virtually see it a hundred times, keep reliving that night. Because absolutely, what a night!
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 17, 2016 2:48:22 GMT
Cabaret (given the right production) is a fantastic stage show - and the film is simply awful. It rips the heart out of the show and stomps on it. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. Etc. The film is a masterpiece. It perfectly evokes not just the Weimar era paranoia, but perverts the art of the Weimar era to make the boldest statement about how casually evil rises. The cabaret itself is iconically horrible, the songs dingy metaphors that use the abstraction and abnormality of bursting into song to truly icky, unsettling effect, only magnifying the naturalistic horrors of Nazism which Fosse so mundanely shows outside. The outside scenes are spectacularly done; take the songs out and call it I Am A Camera and it’s a beautifully subtle, elegant, and sad little movie with spectacular performances. Liza – OK, perhaps Sally shouldn’t sing as well as Liza, but I saw the film again recently after having read Isherwood for the first time, and the sad, self-deluding, broken-but-outwardly-confident Sally he writes in the book simply IS Liza in the film – too much is made of her great singing, too little made of the fact that she’s a great straight actor and the book of the musical/script of the movie is a great role she smashes. Joel Grey sometimes appears in my nightmares.
Meanwhile, if some perverse twist of fate made me a history teacher, the way I’d teach children about the rise of Nazism is Tomorrow Belongs To Me – and yes, a good production would do that too, but Fosse does it with gusto. How better to show how evil can become the norm than the loveable angelic child singing a loveable angelic song of hope and peace and goodwill towards the future that evolves into, well, that camera pan down to the Swastika, that group-singalong group-think, that poor man struggling to abstain, that violence with which it’s sung at the end? It's chilling, but normal. It's a scene I genuinely like on a musical and aesthetic level, I watch it and suffer picnic envy, I idly hum that song unforgivably often, and it's unapologetically on the Nazi's side, and in watching it filmed as Fosse filmed it, not just as Kander and Ebb wrote it, Fosse implicates me in liking the song, even singing along, and for that one moment, implicating me in, well... By the time I know the meaning of the scene, I'm on its side, and that's how a master moviemaker uses his camera. I feel Fosse's camerawork matched to Kander and Ebb's masterpiece says more about the subject than, say, CP Taylor's Good. Fosse deserved to beat Coppola for the Oscar.
I saw a documentary about movie musicals which said "After Cabaret's success, all musicals were set in Weimar Germany, even those that weren't". I wonder how much Fosse dislike is Fosse-imitation dislike.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 17, 2016 2:35:35 GMT
Young people shouldn't get ultra cheap or free theatre tickets
Completely agree, but I love the idea of free tickets for some people: I think, instead, underprivileged people of all ages – certain schools or districts or jobseekers – should get any free tickets if theatres can offer them, absolutely not freeloading millennial bastards like myself. Giving the freebies to someone like me (young enough for most yoof schemes, hardly rich but fine, financially, already a regular theatregoer) only shuns the underfunded who might genuinely need such subsidies. I don’t know who they’d go to, or how to suggest it without sounding utterly patronising and blindsiding the more pressing financial problems of the country, but I don’t need free tickets, much as I want them; far rather I pay and someone with genuine financial constraints gets the freebie than tedious middle class me.
There should still be plenty of young people discounts, don’t get me wrong, they’re essential for getting new theatregoers through the door and keeping new theatregoers regular, but things like the Donmar Shakespeare trilogy scheme are just getting silly. I’d love to know how many of the under-25s going to that have never seen a Shakespeare before. I’d love to know how many hadn’t seen Julius Caesar or Henry IV before. I’d love to know how many hadn’t seen Phyllida Lloyd’s Julius Caesar or Henry IV before.
Giving free tickets to people genuinely too poor to see the theatre they love, or the theatre they may love given half a chance - that's how to broaden what a theatregoer is, that's how to genuinely diversify audiences, that's what subsidies should work towards.
Actually, that’s an opinion that’s probably not unpopular – most ‘encourage new theatregoer’ schemes aren’t that, they’re ‘subsidise regular theatregoer’ schemes, and most people instigating those schemes have no idea what they’re banging on about.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 15, 2016 12:10:33 GMT
Here’s the thing I really, really, really don’t understand. As you’ve all said, theatre critics aren’t the only ones who work unsociable hours, and anyone in any other night-time profession can’t bring along a buddy. SO MAKE FRIENDS ON THE JOB! It’s not like critics work in isolation. What is so shameful about making friends with each other? That would make it sociable. Film critics clearly talk to each other and make friends. Not making friends with other theatre critics is just stubbornness.
Surely, too (I speak not as a blogger but a relatively regular theatregoer with a severely compromised social life), any starting blogger doesn’t have the excuse of getting paid to go to the theatre or getting their reviews widely published, but still has to say to friends “I can’t come out tonight because in the long run I want to be a theatre critic so have to go using my own free time and own money on my own initiative on my own”. It’s not sociable for bloggers either, Mark! If you want to encourage them, this is it!
I’ve banged on about this enough, so I concede to Michael Billington. He’s always upfront about the pros and cons of criticism, what the medium does wrong and what he could do better, without complaint. If Shenton discussed the matter like this, with humility, taking some blame for himself and appreciating the fortune of his position, we’d respect him far more:
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 15, 2016 12:08:51 GMT
Cardinal, on the areas I vaguely know about I agree with you almost entirely, and on the others, as always, I bow to your extraordinary knowledge on this subject! As in other places (coughangelsinamericacough) it's wonderful to have people so knowledgeable share their expertise with the rest of us mere mortals. However, I still can’t agree with you that we’re years behind, and at the risk of bursting into a chorus of “I’d Like To Teach The World To Sing In Perfect Harmony” here’s why: Other countries have their dross but it is what travels that matters, McBurney, Mitchell, Donnellan, Rice and Goold (the last less so, apart from across the Atlantic) are our standard bearers. Respectively influenced by Lecoq, Bausch, Dodin, Staniewski and Lepage they have enriched our theatre and have become important exports for our theatre as much as the writers above. Without their international (and mostly European) influences British theatre production would be, as I stated, weaker and more parochial. It is what travels that matters. We get the best of foreign theatre, but it stops being foreign because it’s theatre. It’s live. It’s now. It’s here. I see foreign films, which are documents of foreign lives filmed elsewhere; I don’t see foreign theatre, because how can what’s happening within touching distance of me be foreign? So much travels to London – you mention Lepage, and you’ll be well aware that he’s here in a month’s time! We’re not years behind when we’re so receptive to the progressive present around the world. I don’t know what it’s like in Amsterdam or Berlin or Paris and whether the cultural exchange is equal there, but right now in London we get the best of European theatre – yeah, I’m jealous that I don’t see Complicite’s Beware of Pity or Toneelgroep’s Husbands and Wives, and after The Forbidden Zone I did expect more live streams, but we still get a lot, and it says a lot about the cultural of conversation we're in that Complicite are an English company premiering in Berlin and Husbands and Sons is an Australian/Dutch production of an American text. I don’t care if Europe is doing regietheater better than us, because I get the chance to see regietheater thanks to wonderful programming at the Barbican, now at the Young Vic, potentially at the new NT, a little at the BAC... As a theatregoer, not a theatremaker, I do feel London’s the greatest theatrical city in the world, not just for the theatre it makes, but for the theatre it takes in.
And on top of that, because we currently have a culture of cultural exchanges, of overseas talents coming here and English talents invading elsewhere, the only possible end result is a broader badinage of ideas and ideals, a larger pool of influences from which developing talents can steal, a greater exchange of philosophies of what theatre can be which promising but unmoulded minds can learn about and pick and choose from as they please. Paradoxically, I don’t think there’s a distinction between European and English theatre, but I clearly think there are massive cultural differences; what’s exciting about this is that we live at a moment where the communication’s great across Europe. Ideas from one culture will permeate another, or flat out play on their theatres full stop. How wonderful! As you say, without European influence English theatre would be far more parochial and far weaker, but (asking out of curiosity and ignorance) has there ever been a time with so many platforms, ever increasing, for international influence to make their mark in the UK? In another lifetime, young groups would have to learn from drama school, reading up, expensive travel and guesswork, but today young groups (I’d love to know which ones you’d single out, Cardinal) get to see so much as cultural theatre goes! It’s not a competition, it’s a dialogue, and never has the dialogue been more egalitarian.
I used to live in grotty digs at the Barbican. The theatre that took place five minutes from my front door was my theatre. That might be the RSC and Benedict Cumberbatch, or it might be Theatre De La Ville and Robert Wilson. That's what English theatre is to me - Theatre De La Ville and Robert Wilson. I'm a bit romantic here (or racist and stealing other cultures as my own), but sod it, we get wonderful work on our stages, and as far as I'm concerned when it's on our stages it's ours. I think we are behind in some fields of theatre, but ahead in others, but I don’t see that as an issue when tonight I can see Isabelle Huppert on one stage, a Greek company on another, Goold at the Almeida, Macmillan at the Wyndhams, The Flick at the National – and dare I say, where I can see Marianne Elliot, Phyllida Lloyd, John Tiffany and Julie Taymor in the West End too. It’s like being a kid in a candy store – it’s all there! And I’d fly the flag again for a) our talents like Longhurst and Elliot and McIntyre who deserve greater praise, and b) the shift in taste that’s made Young Vic, Almeida and Headlong transfers populist – I think it’s a wonderful time to be in London.
That went on a bit. I really only had one small point, that we’re lucky to get so much foreign theatre, that there’s a dialogue starting/continuing that can only be a progressive and good thing, and that I don’t like distinctions between here and there because I do think they don’t exist, and ultimately no-one’s years behind of anything, variety’s a great thing and what variety we have! It just turns out I love London. It’s easy to forget that sometimes, but blimey we’re lucky buggers!
THat's my unpopular opinion. London theatre isn't London theatre - it's mostly London theatre (much of which is populist, much of which is crap), but it's also Regional, Celtic, European, American, Global, and only moving in a direction of breadth. London is the greatest theatrical town (and thus the greatest town, what's more important than theatre?) in the world.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 14, 2016 10:55:35 GMT
Really interested why you think European theatre is 'years ahead of British theatre' (aren't negative views worthless in isolation). But even more interested why we're 'just catching up' and truly fascinated why 'that gap may stop closing' soon. Negative 'reviews', responses to a specific show, are only relevant to that show and pretty much 'I didn't like it', 'I liked it' and that's that, positive reviews at least prompt me to go and see something I might not (steve's review of Clytemnestra at The Gate for example, thanks steve!); negative 'views' are at least a topic for conversation and debate, given their broader range. I'm not talking musical theatre here, where the US is streets ahead but in the field of non-musical theatre. I see a lot of international theatre and the ideas and approaches take a while to seep through to British theatre, which is relatively conservative and parochial. What I see now from young directors is what the likes of Ostermeier and Van Hove have been doing for years. It's no surprise that as the UK has become closer to Europe and, with populations intermingling to a greater degree, that that gap has been closed. It's not all to do with political integration as on the edges you have somewhere like Iceland and Vesturport who have made waves. Polls show that, across Europe, however, there is a growing mood of isolationism and that mood can only hamper the cross-pollination of international theatres and theatremakers. EDIT: Just realised that Iceland is a member of the EEA so there is free movement. Russia maybe and the Vakhtangov instead?
I'm not sure I agree. I say this from a position of relative ignorance, but I often wonder if we romanticise ‘foreign theatre’. I haven’t been abroad in two years now, but whenever I go abroad I find it fascinating to look at the cinema listings. The last time I saw Paris, there were posters all over the place for ‘Un film de Ken Loach, scenario de Paul Laverty’ – Jimmy’s Hall, a film that made pennies at the box office and was treated as a footnote by a past-it leftie windbag by half the papers here, but represented the best of English auteur cinema by a rare double Palme d'Or winner (hooray!) when it played as a ‘foreign film’ – and posters all over the place for a sh*tty little French rom com that was so bad it never reached our shores but was clearly doing well over there. Walk through London a few years ago, and there’d have been adverts for the new Xavier Dolan movie next to Pudsey The Dog: The Movie. I bet artistically minded cinemagoers were having identical conversations on both sides of the channel: “Look at the cinema they make over there, look at the sh*t we make over here, the grass is so much greener.”
Is that not true of theatre? Having only been to one theatre outside England, on Broadway ten years ago, my encounters with foreign theatre have been OStermeier, Ninagawa, Vakhtangov, where my encounters with UK theatre have been Thriller Live and Mamma Mia. On that basis we’re not years behind but epochs. However, in Germany, similarly, is Mamma Mia not the hottest ticket, not Ostermeier? Are there not people talking about how they’re still years behind Katie Mitchell, Simon Mcburney, Cheek by Jowl, let alone upstart wünderkinds like Rupert Goold (now a wünder-middle-age), Joe Hill-Gibbons and Robert Icke? Is German theatre actually represented by Ostermeier, or is the best of German theatre represented by OStermeier?
Besides, I don’t think the distinction between us and them really exists now, let alone as a gap that's mercifully closing. There've been great talents we've produced, on whose shoulders EUropean directors are now standing, on whose shoulders young British directors are beginning to stand. Look at West End sell-out Simon Stephens, a channel hopping auteur-endorsing juggernaut, and West End sell-out Duncan Macmillan who, with Atmen/Lungs, The Forbidden Zone and 2071, is surely snapping at Stephens’ heels for the position of Anglo-European playwright-laureate (not to mention West End sell-out Florian Zeller, it goes two ways). I don’t think we’re many years behind: I think the best stuff there is as good as the best stuff here, the worst stuff there is probably as bad as the worst stuff but mercifully we dodge that bullet, and there’s a really healthy, ever growing relationship between theatres across Europe and indeed America and we’re lucky to be in the middle. Is there not something telling that in this country Ivo van Hove won the Olivier, sold out the West End, warranted a cinematic run and built up the momentum to go to Broadway and win the Tony (woop woop!) and is now part of England’s National Theatre?
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 7, 2016 4:05:46 GMT
Steve, greater minds than mine have debated these subjects come to no conclusion since time immemorial, and I saw this two years ago so my memory is quite fuzzy, but sod it I’ll try and give a half decent answer! You seem to feel that a twisted message is ok if a work is poetic or melodramatic, and if the work is of high quality. Well, "Triumph of the Will" (which makes Hitler look good) is well-made and poetic and "Birth of a Nation" (which makes the KKK look good) is well-made and melodramatic. Do we overlook the messages contained in those films because they are well-made, poetic, melodramatic?
I think the comparison between Griffiths/Reifenstahl and Mitchell is unfair, and I’ll explain that in a sec, but on that issue... Personally, no, I think bad morals contradict good construction. To take a different (and overly simplistic) tack to that question: in Sight and Sound’s Greatest Film poll of filmmakers and critics, Birth of a Nation was chosen by five critics (who deal in subjective analysis) and by zero directors (who deal in emotional creativity). As one of those five said, “Yes, it is racist, but it is also a masterpiece of mise en scène”. If you’re willing to see something purely on constructive merits, you overlook the message, but even using this simplistic fallacious comparison, only five critics out of hundreds were so unsentimental as to overlook the messages.
But as I say, that’s an issue that’s been debated since, well, The Birth of a Nation, and really my belief is artists can make what they want and, as you say, it’s our job to take them to task when their politics cross the line. I’m proud we live in a world in which those works can exist but the world condemns their existence. Here, though, I don’t think Mitchell does cross the line, and here’s why.
This is the second time in a fortnight I have seen a Katie Mitchell work, in which she has presented suicide as the only option/recourse for women in a hellish patriarchal world. Hamlet and Ophelia never existed, so you can do what you like with them. But in this latest piece, it is real suicides that she appropriates, and whose stories she shapes into a whole new history. I also think the melodramatic (as you describe it) description of men, "[our] sex," being uniquely violent is melodrama, yes, but also harmful. The Forbidden Zone" underestimates women in excluding them from the full humanity of their capacity for cruelty and violence. The reason women have not committed more cruelty and violence in history is not that they are incapable, it is the same reason they have written less books, plays, movies: it is lack of opportunity.
Well, I didn’t see Ophelia’s Zimmer, and I do question how this appropriated the suicides for maximum dramatic effect. On that matter I’d agree, and perhaps had I seen that and this so close together I’d feel differently. However, I don’t think that the gender politics are as bad as you think, and here’s why.
I’d compare this to Mitchell’s 10 Billion, strangely enough. In 10 Billion, Stephen Emmott tells us that earth is really dying, and if by 2050 we’ve not moderated the population simultaneously changing our lifestyles we’ve got 33 ½ years left to cry in – and then, unlike Chris Rapley’s sensible but soporific advice, says “I think we’re f***ed”. How immoral, how frankly sinful, it is to have an expert environmentalist tell us there’s nothing we can do, and we just have to accept the extremity of the point – so naturally, we don’t! We rage against the dying of the light and don’t accept his dangerous words, but fight them.
And so to The Forbidden Zone. I thought it did much the same, by way of its extremer medium, albeit less successfully than 10 Billion – it makes an argument founded in reality, goes to its extreme, and in asking us to rage against its extremity it says something hugely important. As you say, it does two things: it demonises men, and secondly, it underestimates women. Absolutely, it does this. However, it does this because it’s making a point about the one-dimensional gender politics (both ways) of war narratives, criticising both through the intelligent extremity of this narrative. After all, according to theatre, war was fought by the Oppenheimers and Feynmans and Bohrs and Heisenbergs, and it wasn’t until Rosamund Franklin that women got off their arses and did some science. If we take this to its extreme then yes, according to all the theatre I’ve ever seen, our sex is wholly culpable and women can wash their hands of all violence – THIS is the narrative Mitchell tells/parodies, the narrative we’ve been surreptitiously telling for years. You say this portrays men as uniquely violent, but most art about war does without realising it; Mitchell reminds us of this point in such an extreme way it becomes blindingly obvious how poorly men are treated by these narratives of war. It’s not sexist, it’s critical of the surreptitious sexism that says men are warmongering scientists. Then, I think her point about women – great scientists and huge historical figureheads – being condensed into hysterical historical footnotes is made far more clearly. As with 10 Billion, Mitchell uses the facts to reach an absurdly extreme argument to provoke us to have this discussion; we’ve fallen into her trap! I think by following this through so extremely, it’s so ludicrous it’s a reductio ad absurdum, an argument easily disagreeable; by using a genre like the melodrama, it manages to do so whilst being entertaining too.
So to use the only science metaphor I’m qualified to make, if this has a twisted message, it’s twisted like a Moebius strip – follow it through, and one ends up on the other side and forced to disagree with it, as with 10 Billion, and as with this. Griffiths and Reifenstahl were extreme but uncritical; Mitchell is extreme but equal opportunities critical. As I say, its re-appropriation of reality is not unproblematic, but I don’t think its gender politics are as problematic as you do. So it’s a bit iffy and a bit having-your-cake-and-eating-it and I won’t deny there are flaws, but it’s also poetic, melodramatic, forgiveable, and in this case, fun!
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 7, 2016 3:57:30 GMT
Oh come on, everyone, it’s 2016, I thought we knew how to behave by now. You can objectify anyone you want, just as long as you don’t publicly admit to it. And besides, Mallardo, I’m disappointed – Mrs Henderson Presents is just up the road and you’re commenting on the pulchritudinousness of THIS?
By the way, all the talk about men being objectified is bullsh*t. I’m a man in my 20s and there’s no pressure on me to look a certain way whatsoever – there’s the notion that a certain metrosexual looking after myself might be attractive to some, but if I want to look like John Goodman I can. My hunch is it’s not like that for a woman in her 20s.
But still, FitKit’s no Michael Xavier.
So, Nicholas, it seems like your expectations were betrayed and yet your take on Jamie Lloyd - which I generally agree with - should have led you to expect just what you got. This was never a deeply serious show, it's a fantasy on fame starring one of the currently most famous actors in the world. On its own terms it's a rollicking evening, complete with cabaret in the interval and a mob scene in the street outside. Yes, too bad about Marlowe and all that but it's an event. And, IMO, it made the points it set out to make.
See, I thought that satire was a) slightly overstretched (two and a half hours plus mythological establishment dragged it out), b) wasn’t exploited to its full potential, and c) didn’t continue the themes of sin and morality the opening established – better a trimmer two-hours-straight-through version, or simply a newly commissioned Faust play. But it’s horses for courses – as always, I greatly admire what you’ve written (wanted to say, your writing on People, Places and Things was beautiful), and I think what you’ve said here is a great reading of the show; I just disagree with it completely, and life would be boring if we always agreed.
But that said, I’ve got to agree with Kathryn: getting people very agitated means the show must be doing something half right. I mean, the show’s brought out quite an ugly, stubborn part of me – I call it my inner Parsley – and whilst that’s clearly a taste thing, the middle of the road doesn’t anger you so. I begrudgingly admit that a small part of me is excited that something like this is opening blind in the West End.
Regardless, I’ll still be first in line for Lloyd’s next season. He’s worked genuine wonders in the past, and even at his worst, his upfront political edge and tendency to take an interpretation too far never lead to a lack of discussion. There’s a black mark by his name now, but I still can’t wait to see where he goes next, and I admire him for plonking this in the West End and not compromising a single word of his vision, even though my stubborn inner Parsley still thinks it’s utter bullsh*t.
P.S. Enough time has gone by to admit it – I LOVED Lloyd’s She Stoops to Conquer. I remember there being a fair bit of sniffiness about it, but I loved it as I’ve loved few shows (it’s since been eclipsed by Nell Gwynn, but that was joy personified). Again, all surface, but given that that play’s surface involves nice people defying class to love each other, taking that surface to its extreme was lovely stuff wringing the pleasure out of every line, and as much as I hated hated hated hated Faustus I loved loved loved loved loved She Stoops. I remember on the old place that most people weren’t too enamoured with it, but again, horses for courses.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 7, 2016 3:53:43 GMT
Embarrassing admission. When I was doing GCSEs/A-levels (possibly both, it all blurs into one) was when I got into Sondheim, listening obsessively to get through revision. Naturally, this involved listening to hours of Bernadette Peters, and blimey was I captivated. Especially high on all those teenage kicks and pesky hormones, hearing her emotional intelligence, her confidence in using silence as well as noise, her repertoire of those piercing Sondheim lyrics, her extraordinary unique voice – it meant so much back then. Since, Sondheim’s always been a part of my life, thank goodness, and intermittently I go back on these Bernadette binges. Way back when, when I was more idealistic and idiotic, I used to check her website almost daily to check whether she’d finally announce a surely imminent UK concert – I might not have had much money, but I would have paid all my pocket money for a front row ticket the very second she was coming over.
So it was with a certain self-satisfaction that I took my seat – back row of the balcony, furthest to the right, the worst seat in the house (and still forty quid!)! How times have changed, and yet still I obviously couldn’t have missed this for all the world. It developed a little late to be a childhood dream, but seeing Bernadette Peters was something of a youthful dream, one I’ve been looking forwards to practically for months but theoretically for years.
So obviously I’m not going to say a word against it, I loved every single second of the show. There she was, apparently 67 but clearly at least twenty years younger, that wonderful head of uncontrollable hair, that grace and poise and know-how of a great cabaret singer, that world of experience and frankly legendary status behind her... But even being objective I must have seen a different show to you, because she was a.ma.zing! A canny set list, not one single song showed any cracks in her voice (67! 67 and singing (and looking!) like that!), some songs were old favourites, some were leftfield treats, and some were genuine privileges to hear live. Hearing her sing, say, There Is Nothing Like A Dame was something rather fun, Mr Snow bizarre but beautiful (it’s a song my grandparents used to sing to me, so as if I wasn’t emotional enough to begin with...), It Might As Well Be Spring was quite unexpected and heartbreaking (never heard her sing that before, love that song, such a sensitive arrangement, moved me almost to tears), Johanna – Johanna! And with Let Me Entertain You, Fever, Come Up To My House, there rather seemed to be one thing on her mind, and as one of the two straight men at this Broadway concert, for me that was no bad thing... Of course, you then had Send In The Clowns, Losing My Mind, Children Will Listen, No-One Is Alone, Being Alive, and even back in my terrible seat, her voice still has that intimacy and connectivity that meant it felt, as it does in her recordings but with more poignancy when in person, that she was singing just for me – and you could tell everyone (well, almost everyone, clearly) felt just the same, she seemed to speak directly to us all. Absolute royalty, a true class act, an amazing unique talent, those songs can’t sound better than in her voice, and everyone there seemed truly to know how lucky we are to get the chance to see her as good as ever sing just for us.
And my favourite Sondheim song (and thus one of my favourite songs) is Move On – I’d argue for all his cleverness in other songs, it’s the kind of simplistic perfection only a genius can come up with. Lord knows, in the last however many years I wish I knew how many times I’ve heard her and Mandy Patinkin sing it, it will be well in the hundreds – AND SHE SANG IT! I’m in tears now just remembering, just realising what I saw, is that sad?
We can agree or disagree on how good she was. As I was walking over the bridge a party was complaining about her not doing Unexpected Song (which, ironically, is all she could do to make it unexpected). Personally I thought it was a set list that covered as many of the ‘Bernadette Peters’ songs as we needed and a good number of unexpected songs that were truly beautiful. I think we’d all agree she was good, and then some of us are willing to be more hyperbolic. But can we all agree, what a truly special night, what a real treat, what a legend, just wow!
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 2, 2016 3:19:22 GMT
Not to be a nit-picker but is it bestiality if only the head is beast-ly? I don’t think the word for sex with an animal head is 'bestial'. I think the word for sex with an animal head is 'Prime Ministerial'.
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Post by Nicholas on Jun 2, 2016 3:19:08 GMT
I found this perfectly pleasant, the way I find Michael Portillo on a train ‘pleasant’ or those bits where Tim Wonnacott does the history of antiques ‘pleasant’. There’s been a recent subgenre of dull historical footnote plays (Peter and Alice, The Moderate Soprano) and this absolutely towed that line, but for all that it was fairly bland, talky and ploddy, I really couldn’t hate this like some of you did, I really couldn’t get worked up by it, and I really couldn’t take against its passable passivity. It’s not a great play, but it manages to be an interesting enough couple of hours. Admittedly, that’s not good enough to schedule an evening around, but it’s not terrible, it’s not hateful, and somehow it’s not boring.
This is a play of facts and little more, and most of the facts Brenton chose makes for a pleasant education. There is something interesting in Lawrence and Faisal, and there is something interesting in the way Lawrence edited and fictionalised his legacy, and there is something interesting in Lawrence’s ‘backing into the limelight’. There was nothing revelatory to the drama, and nothing inventive in how Brenton told these facts; he just edited the truth down to some interesting bits and wrote well enough to engage me as a Sky Arts documentary does. It may not be great drama, but it's not awful. I also felt that Jack Laskey was utterly brilliant in this, beautifully showing Lawrence’s contradictory self-satisfaction, his rank sincerity, and his thin skin, making for an always compelling and occasionally very movingly hero.
However, it’s the facts and inane trivia that hold this back. Amidst a relatively interesting if basic biography, there’s also yet another attempt to make too much of a historical footnote. It’s two unlikely friends, unlikely trivia, and that a play doth not make. As with Peter and Alice, I got the impression the playwright found a little-known historical meeting between two noteable heroes, tried to write their Travesties, and then realised there wasn’t any plot to this odd meeting yet were too far in to stop. Peter and Alice was atrocious and this wasn’t, but it’s the same problem of the truth going nowhere plotwise. Shaw himself, much as Rawle gives an engaging enough buoyant performance, doesn’t make for that compelling a character, at least under Brenton’s pen: dictating his plays, upholding his politics and eating carrot cake are quirks that don’t work, not characteristics. Lawrence being an inspiration for Joan is interesting enough, as a footnote, but Brenton mishandled this insight, both expecting too much of our knowledge of Saint Joan and showing too little of how Lawrence actually inspired lines and scenes in the play. It helps that Lawrence is an intrinsically interesting man (though there’s something really underwhelming, knowing the film’s on DVD, in having the characters talk about how stunning the march across the desert and attack on Aqaba is when I can see that stunningly myself!), but too much of this is as entertaining as reading Lawrence’s Wikipedia page – the facts are there, and the facts are fine, but I do expect a drama and this rehearsed reading of Wikipedia isn’t it. There’s also that tendency these plays have to have characters tell each other who they are too often, and I’ll eat my hat if there’s a better line this year than “But you founded the London School of Economics!”
And tantalisingly, I think Brenton has a play he really, really wants to write about our Empire’s legacy and the lines we draw (another play about this) which is all too held back by the biography. There are hints that there’s a well-researched and passionate play about these issues – not necessarily a great play, and clearly a biased play, but there are flashes of passion (mostly in Laskey’s eyes) that suggest Brenton should have cut the carrot cake and stuck to the desert. Yes, there’s something incredibly obvious (in a lesser director’s hands, patronising) about Lawrence virtually turning to us and repeating “Iraq, Syria, Palestine” to make his point about the legacy of our line-drawing, but because of Brenton’s sincerity, and because of Jack Laskey’s conviction in every line, it’s one of few moments where the play stops being pleasant and starts being passionate. Similarly, I think that the fury at colonial authority Laskey rails with is only possible because of the fury at colonial authority Brenton writes with Lawrence’s conviction in his pen. In Lawrence, Brenton has clearly found a political surrogate through whom he can speak about how maps being drawn can lead to wars, but to oversell this would mean risking inaccuracy; I wish Brenton was a more playful, more political, more partisan playwright willing to do so. Lawrence meeting Bernard Shaw’s a tiny piece of trivia, but Lawrence’s perceived betrayal by his country and class is drama, and when Brenton gets over the trivial facts, he hints at the angry political play he really wants to write – not a perfect play, but I’d rather see imperfect political passion than perfect factual accuracy. The elements are there, and it’s that which stops this from being another Moderate Soprano, but this ends up sacrificing passion for biography, and it’s that which stops this from being another Romans in Britain.
There’s a worthwhile if OTT play about military legacy, both regarding celebrity and cartography, lurking within this. There’s also a Wikipedia entry, and that’s nine tenths of this. Brenton chose a Wikipedia entry that is intrinsically dramatic, and didn’t over-focus on the footnote of the Lawrence/Shaw friendship, so mostly this was a pleasant plod through basic facts, and I can’t say I found the factual as dry or bad as other recent biographical plays. However, this only really came to life when Brenton took off the white gloves of the historian and stopped pulling his punches about what mattered to him, and those scenes of Laskey’s horror at his superiors, that scene of Laskey coming to terms with editing the past, in those was the contentious, convincing play Brenton wanted to write and I wanted to see. Instead, we have a history lesson, but at least it was an entertaining history lesson. I couldn’t recommend anyone part with money to see this, but hey, I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it at the time. And regardless, Laskey gave a real star turn in this.
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