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Post by Steve on Jul 24, 2016 15:40:55 GMT
Hilary Clinton is a self-serving liar.
Donald Trump is a self serving liar, AND a racist narcissistic psychopathic demagogue.
I prefer the former. Her actions are rational and predictable.
The latter is so unpredictable, we'll all have sleepless nights if he wins.
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Post by Steve on Jul 21, 2016 22:56:16 GMT
I was there last night too, and agree with Steve10086 and Steffi that this is terrific! Declan Bennett's disconnected Jesus did worry me at the start, especially since Tyrone Huntley, as Judas is electric. Bennett's underpowered diction was occasionally difficult to decipher, whereas Huntley's every word was crystal. But that initial imbalance in their relationship works thematically for me: Jesus doing his laid back thing, while the unhinged and explosive Judas circles him like a stalker. Judas' shrill and unreasonable expectations of his superstar idol seem typical of a stalker, and this theme of Judas being a stalker seems to fit like Michael Jackson's glove with the pop star trappings of the handheld microphones. Huntley's supercharged wild rasp was like a jolt of adrenalin for the audience as he tore through songs like a turbo-charged energiser bunny. Bennett's Jesus does ultimately emerge from his hippy coma, prompted to life by Anoushka Lucas' tender and emotive Mary. His Gethsemane is a showstopper. Herod's golden costume is so fabulous it needs to be seen to be believed, yet Peter Caulfield is so camp and crazy wearing it, that his inner glitter outgolds the gold. The staging is plenty original, with two giant wooden two floor platforms allowing the band and the Romans to dominate from on high, while singers and dancers dynamically scale ladders and dance a new dawn to Drew McOnie's exhilarating choreography. The pharisee Caiaphas comes across as a posturing phony, donning Matrix style shades, affectedly wielding his dual use microphone stand as a rod of power, which power is accentuated by Cavin Cornwall's voice of deep booming thunder. The presence of Lloyd Webber, in his luminous pink shirt, and Tim Rice, in the audience, albeit not sitting together, gave the night an added frisson. But as the sun set behind the trees in a moonlit cloudless sky, and chiaroscuro lighting dramatised the choreography and staging, it was Tyrone Huntley that brought this show storming home. 4 and a half stars!
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Post by Steve on Jul 21, 2016 22:13:05 GMT
He has a cold stage presence, in R-III all his audience interaction - that weird pointing at people for example- came across as just acting - R-III played by a warmer actor like SimonR-B or Jacobi is better. Coriolanus is the part for Fiennes (I assume, I've never seen him in a film) Because played by a 'warmer actor' it's more threatening, sinister, scary? Am seeing this on saturday so can't yet comment but was curious if that was what you meant. I think that's true. When Rylance played it, he was so natural and warm, he could convince you it was quite normal to want to murder people. That's frightening.
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Post by Steve on Jul 20, 2016 18:37:07 GMT
Great play! Some spoilers follow. . . Without wasting a word, this wry, clear-eyed play depicts how hateful ideas about homosexuality have spread like a virus. The three actors are like cells in the body of human history, each playing multiple characters, speaking ideas, reflecting the spread of hate through time and continents. If hate is the disease, this play succinctly and powerfully demonstrates that irony is the cure. The most effective 15 minutes of communication I have seen, this should be performed in every classroom in the country! 5 stars
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Post by Steve on Jul 17, 2016 22:48:25 GMT
I was there Saturday night too, and for the most part, loved it. The second half was stunning! Some spoilers follow. . . The first half struggles to justify itself as a musical. Music is the artform with a shortcut to the soul, and the lead character has no soul. He is the most flippant, least engaged lead character in a musical I can remember. His natural language is sarcasm, and music dilutes sarcasm. The egotism of Andy Karl's Phil Connors is so great that he denies other characters the breathing room to express their emotional truths, so for the first quarter of the running time, there is no reason for this show to be a musical. Somewhere in the first half, Andy Karl's Phil starts to panic (reflected by the song, "Nobody Cares"), later he starts to despair (reflected by the song, "One Day," the first half closer), and still later he starts to grow (reflected by the song, "Hope," in the second half). With each move from disengagement to engagement, from detachment to attachment, the musical picks up emotional steam, with each of these songs better than the last. If the theme of the first half is "Isolation," the theme of the second half is "Community." {Spoiler - click to view} The theme of "community" is introduced by an emotionally wrenching song, "Playing Nancy," which speaks the truth of an invisible character, Nancy, played tenderly and mellifluously by Georgina Hagen. At the moment Andy Karl's Phil realises that other people matter, this song demonstrates the same thing for the audience, as well as providing the cue for Andy's Karl's tour-de-force manifesto of his newly discovered purpose, "Hope." Where music's ability to pull the heartstrings proves redundant for much of the first half, it is everything in the second half, which is where this musical comes into it's own, and trumps the movie. "Seeing You," which the programme tells us is inspired by Marcel's Proust's observation that the "real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes," is gorgeous. Andy Karl is pitch perfect as Phil Connors. Almost as adept at uncaring insincerity as the original movie's Bill Murray, he is more adept at scaling his character's emotional ladder, aided immeasurably by the songs "Hope" and "Seeing You," which, together with "One Day," are the best and most memorable songs in the show. To my mind, Carlyss Peer's youthful looks did not detract from her charm, or her gravitas, the latter quality particularly present in her delivery of the song, "One Day." The staging is terrific throughout, from drop down tv screens, to movable rooms and houses and sets, which characters effortlessly circle to create different locales, to be repeated again and again in subtly different Groundhog ways. Despite taking it's sweet time to get under my emotional skin, the journey this show took me on was more than merely funny, but delightful, moving and worthwhile. 4 stars, at this early stage of previews.
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Post by Steve on Jul 16, 2016 22:28:08 GMT
I was in Hangmen and am now in The Trial of Jane Fonda and have literally no idea what your post is actually saying. Congrats on being in "Hangmen," which was one of my highlights of last year. This play was not, though I hope others get more out of it than I did. While I would generally not wish to say negative things about anything, I have very much appreciated other people sharing their views about plays, both positive and negative, so I share my views here as a thank you to them, who have taught me a great deal about theatre. My views about the flaws of this play can be gleaned from my first line. The rest uses "Hangmen" as a template, to illustrate how these flaws worked on my mind to disappoint and annoy me. I used a template to describe the play's effect on me partly because this play also uses a template in it's construction, namely "12 Angry Men." What the play misses is that in "12 Angry Men," the men are not actually all angry. They are a spectrum of nuanced types, of whom only Lee J Cobb's character is consistently abusive. In "The Trial of Jane Fonda," by contrast, the protesters are universally abusive, a raging mob of anger against which Fonda's character is portrayed as cool, calm and collected. This is condescending to the Veterans. It has been more than a decade since Fonda's anti-war activities, and in all that time they have remained angry, incoherent and brutish, and their arguments are demeaned by this. Fonda's ability to get each of them to change their minds, to varying degrees, after a mere chat, patronises these Vets, who have been considering the issues for many years. She comes off as a Superwoman talking to intellectual midgets. What my admittedly awful play synopsis was supposed to demonstrate is how predictable and patronising the use of the "12 Angry Men" template is in your play, just as it is in my synopsis. I was not surprised once, not even once, and that is unforgivable, given that I paid good money and spent precious time to travel and watch it. There was one moment when I felt the electric charge of engagement, and it was when Fonda's terrible childhood was mentioned. Why oh why did that set-up come to nothing? Here are some things I liked about your production: (1) Awesome clips of Jane Fonda! What a woman!; (2) Great set, all those wars written into the American flag; (3) Alex Gaumond in a non-musical role. He was so good at modulating his anger and arguments, that for a second I saw him as a character, rather than a cipher. One remarkable thing about this forum is it's tendency to turn theatrical lemons into lemonade. Although I felt cheated by the play, I learned something worthwhile by formulating my thoughts about it in the form of that silly synopsis. And now I get to reenact the play the way it should have been written by engaging with you. Unlike the soldiers in this play, you did not abuse me, albeit you inevitably are irritated by my views. And unlike Jane Fonda, I'm not going to be able to convince you that my views are anything other than irritating. Because this is real life, like the Brexit vote, not a phony and predictable play construction. I truly hope other people on this board love your play, and maybe, if their expectations are reduced by my words, they will. Best wishes.
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Post by Steve on Jul 15, 2016 10:19:59 GMT
It's nice to see Anne Archer in a play, but the drama is so plodding and predictable, so binary and patronising, that I felt nothing for the characters.
Some spoilers follow. . .
This play is about Jane Fonda meeting with Vietnam war veterans, who picketed her movie, "Stanley and Iris" in 1989, in protest of her anti-war activities. The meeting is a trial of sorts. . .
Rather than talk about this play, let me talk about a fictional play that is like it, called "7 Angry Brexiteers:"
"We open in a Sunderland pub on the eve of the Referendum. The Remainer (played by Johnny Flynn), saunters in and, despite the fact that 6 angry Brexiteers are bitterly downing pints of bitter, boldly orders a babycham in a creepy mockney accent. The Chief Brexiteer (played by David Morrissey), irate and irrational, aggressively and deliberately spills babycham on his Cockney customer's Moss Bros sky blue linen jacket. The Remainer, cool as a cucumber, retorts "I can see you're voting Brexit."
At which point, all 6 Brexiteers round on The Remainer, and start shouting. One by one, they put their cases for Brexit: one growls that foreigners should go home, the next screeches about the EU being unelected, the next moans about bendy bananas, the next makes no sense at all in a thick Geordie accent, until we get around to David Morrissey's Chief Brexiteer, who growls about the jobs immigrants are stealing.
Johnny Flynn's composed Remainer nods, through tirades of irrational craziness and fury, patronising them with a beatific smirk. Once they are exhausted, he effortlessly and efficiently takes down each of their arguments. He exposes the pent-up resentment and denial of the lives of these unthinking northern brutes, and one by one, they swing round to his way of thinking, appreciating the slowness of his speech that allows their turtle minds to catch up with his grand thoughts.
David Morrissey's Chief Brexiteer is the last to crack, and he only does so after Johnny Flynn's Remainer concedes how hard it is for Cowboy Builders up North to deal with expert Polish competition. This show of compassion for Cowboy builders breaks Morrissey's heart, and he provides a round of babycham on the house for everyone.
All present have a group hug, and the next day, Sunderland proclaims for Remain, leading to an overwhelming victory for togetherness and the EU."
Great play, right? If you are a misery guts, and fancy a different ending, check out Martin McDonagh's "Hangmen," or alternately, watch the News.
"7 Angry Brexiteers" is coming to a theatre near you. But until then, "The Trial of Jane Fonda" offers many of it's delights, although in the latter play, the performances are actually good, and Anne Archer is one of them, so that's another plus.
2 stars
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Brexit
Jul 14, 2016 23:12:43 GMT
Post by Steve on Jul 14, 2016 23:12:43 GMT
You would have thought that the internet might have reduced that but it is, in many ways, worse. There are a number of narratives being constructed and broadcast through it but these tend to harmonise as the 'echo chamber' effect means that people tend to spread ideas coming from each other and from a limited number of powerful sources. Yes, the BBC are mandated to present both sides of every issue. Issues which are put on the news agenda by "The Daily Mail" and "The Sun." By presenting both sides of said issue (the liars cast the truthtellers as liars, the truthtellers say the same back), the public may conclude that somewhere in the middle is about right. The fact that the issue (eg a "swarm" of immigrants "swamping" the NHS) was put on the agenda by "The Daily Mail" in the first place means the mere fact the issue has been covered by the BBC serves their agenda. The papers are insidiously powerful, and twist our public discourse. The PM of the day just ends up making a Faustian deal, and peddles whatever Eurosceptic nonsense will continue to secure their "endorsement." David Cameron ended up hoist on his own petard. After toeing the Daily Mail's Eurosceptic line for years, in the Referendum, he was unable to turn the tide of negative feelings against the EU that he himself had played a part in stirring up.
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Post by Steve on Jul 14, 2016 22:39:16 GMT
Yes, The Sun and the Daily Mail are particularly infuriating.
"The Sun" is easier to explain. Rupert Murdoch hates the EU because they don't listen to him, and don't do what he wants, whereas he has always had the ear of every Prime Minister. He actually said this. He is hands on with "The Sun" and ordered them to go Brexit.
"The Daily Mail" is actually owned by Jonathan Harmsworth, aka Lord Rothermere, a pro-EU friend of David Cameron. It was Lord Rothermere who gave Geordie Greig, at the "Mail on Sunday" the go-ahead to push hard for REMAIN, after Dacre ordered him to go Brexit. Since Greig reports to both Dacre and Rothermere, this was one instance where Rothermere chose to overrule Dacre.
But the contract Dacre signed with "The Daily Mail" has given him full editorial control for decades now. And he sells papers hand over fist at a time when print media is in such decline that papers like "The Independent" have shuttered. Lord Rothermere is far too greedy to interfere with Dacre, given that Dacre is the lynchpin of his empire.
The reason why Dacre's anti-immigrant, anti-EU, women-in-dresses-only twisted reactionary fury sells is alluded to above. It provides it's readers with the theatre of their lives, an easy narrative where their every discontent can be attributed to monstrous villains, and they can play the aggrieved heroes. The EU is like Spectre, the perfect monolithic villain to be demonised. Immigrants are an invading horde coming to steal what's yours. Plucky little England (very little) is overrun by namby pamby Chamberlains, like Cameron and Blair, who sell us Little Englanders out to Blofeld (Juncker) and his minions like Rosa Klebb (Nicola Sturgeon).
It is utterly ridiculous, but these horrible papers actually succeed in giving people a sense of mission and purpose, excitement and drama, that is so sick and twisted it would be funny if only it wasn't so serious.
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Post by Steve on Jul 13, 2016 8:49:58 GMT
I had better check the trains to Chichester as I an going on Sat 30th from London to see Half a Sixpence. Isn't part of the problem because staff keep calling in sick and they don't have enough people to run the trains. So they are either on strike or sick. Always 2 sides to a story. One allegation against the Union is that this "sickness" business is under-the-table industrial action, since genuine "sickness" this is NOT. The Union categorically denies this. The alternate allegation, against Govia Thameslink and the Government, is that the Government backed Govia Thameslink to cut services and hours in a bid to undermine the Union, and the "sickness" talk is just a cover for this. This allegation maintains that the Government have Govia Thameslink in an armlock, as if they do not put the unions under this pressure, Govia Thameslink may lose their contract. Whoever is putting the squeeze on passengers, it is definitely not an outbreak of flu.
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Post by Steve on Jul 12, 2016 12:26:43 GMT
I was at Harry Potter yesterday and saw the Star Trek Guys. I had an aisle seat and tried not to stare every time they walked past Did they teleport to the bar in the interval?
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Post by Steve on Jul 12, 2016 12:23:19 GMT
The problem on one particular thread seems to be a classic case of age group conflict, whereby the enthusiasm of youth irritates the impatience of experience, and the frankness of age offends the innocence of inexperience.
This problem can be solved by Michael's ignore function or by the old-fashioned solution of counting to ten.
The mods do a great job treading a fine line.
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Post by Steve on Jul 10, 2016 23:11:04 GMT
Saw the Saturday matinee of this, and enjoyed it loads. Loved Young Judy! Some spoilers follow. . .
Anyone who saw "End of the Rainbow," with Tracie Bennett, will know that it felt like that WAS Judy Garland! The drama of her final days, interspersed with her astonishing singing, was incredibly moving.
So this Judy Garland show had a LOT to live up to, for me. I worried that by offering three Judys for the price of one, it might be too diluted a show to really hit my emotional spot, and that the memory of Bennett's terrific performance would diminish my enjoyment of this.
To a degree, my fears hit home, as indeed, the renditions here of mid-career-Judy (Belinda Wollaston) and end-career-Judy (Helen Sheals) do not hit home as hard as Bennett's Judy hit me, as the former is underwritten, and the latter hasn't quite got Bennett's pipes.
But oh-my-goodness, Lucy Penrose's Young Judy hits every spot and then some. She is graced with the hardest hitting story of the three, in that her godawful mother is something out of "Mommie Dearest," and not only is she persecuted horrendously by this tyrant, she is sold into slavery to Louis B. Mayer at MGM, only be to called a "hunchback" by him, and threatened that he'll replace her with the prettier Shirley Temple. By the time she brands herself a "fat freckled ugly hunchback," I was so taken with the melodrama that I wanted to jump on stage and punch the producer! Penrose performs Young Judy with astounding authenticity, those elastic stick arms bouncing up and down with all the jubilation of the original, the vibrato in her voice as buoyant as her arms and legs.
Young Judy's story is also enhanced by the tender performance of Tom Elliot Reade as Roger Edens, Judy's protector, and by the fierce performance of Amanda Bailey, as her monstrous mother, Ethel Gumm.
The only thing I could have asked for more would have been a full performance of my joint favourite Garland song, "I Don't Care," which unfortunately is consigned to a medley late in the show. Still, this story of Young Judy, and her tensions with her studio and parents, makes the price of admission worth it, in and of itself.
Yet, there is much also to enjoy in the two other tales of Judy, that are intercut with it:
Belinda Wollaston, as Mid Career Judy, whose story of fighting and falling for pills and Sid Luft is a bit thin, is nonetheless a terrific singer, and has a serious belt that the other two Judys lack.
And Helen Sheals, as Older Judy, is a terrific actor, offering a subtle nuanced performance of the woman whose need, for the approval of absolutely everyone, never went away to her dying day. Older Judy also has a good story, which deals with her year headlining a TV show, "The Judy Garland Show," in which she is warned that her neediness and her tactile nature, are coming across on telly, and putting off audiences, the one thing she fears most.
While the diffuse nature of the show, constantly cutting between three different stories, means that overall the show is less punchy than it might be, it is nonetheless excellent value, for it's look at the incredible Judy Garland's full career span, for the songs, for the drama, but most of all for bringing Lucy Penrose's vibrant Young Judy into the vivid now.
4 stars
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Post by Steve on Jul 10, 2016 18:04:14 GMT
Saw this this afternoon. It's the best and most brilliant Lepage work I have seen, and for me, it's a masterpiece. Spoilers follow. . . The plot, as such, has three creative men riven by the loss of their loves: Jean Cocteau and Miles Davis, in 1949, and Lepage himself some 40 years later. Lepage is played by Marc Labreche, who also plays Cocteau, while Davis is played by Wellesley Robertson III. All three men occupy different hotel rooms (a transient space typical of Lepage, who often favours ephemeral places, such as airports or Las Vegas) in different places and at different times, though the hotel rooms, and other spaces they occupy, are all represented by a remarkable rotating sliced cube, which morphs and transforms, as it's occupants constantly change. But, as always with Lepage, it is not the plot or the people that matter, but the transitions between the plot points, the moments where the different people merge into one, and the vast emptiness that lies inside their apparent individuality. Never has Lepage dissolved individuals and stories and spaces so well as he does here. He even touches tangientially and topically on the identity politics of Brexit, whereby our Global, European, British and English identities are in flux and in conflict, when Robert reflects on the absurdity of the Quebec-Canada referendum, and the confusion of identity that occurred there. As Lepage's mysterious and majestic Cube spins, and Lepage's own form emerges out of apparent stardust in the shape of actor, Marc Labreche, and his character and concerns so fluently and poetically meld with the lives and desires of others, Lepage somehow manages to map the tapestry of all our existences into one exquisite and revelatory artistic work. Profound! 5 stars
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Brexit
Jul 10, 2016 17:21:28 GMT
via mobile
Post by Steve on Jul 10, 2016 17:21:28 GMT
Scanning the Twitter feeds I didn't see a single actor, director or theatre administrator in London backing Brexit - in fact one director hijacked his own official theatre Twitter account to push out ridiculously overwrought stuff ("Weep") rather than using his personal accounts. As on average 40% in London backed Brexit do we not think this significant minority will be under-represented when new plays get commissioned and so on ? I don't think so. Good art tends to look at both sides of any issue. Any play that is a simple polemic for one side or the other sounds awful. Even the idea that a voter is pro or anti Brexit is a matter of degrees. As a Remain voter, I also had reasons to vote Brexit, just less compelling ones. Futhermore, the Brexit voters are not a homogenous group. The Brexit supporters who wished for the freedom to dismantle the system of social protections and human "rights" that the EU represents are very different from those who sought protection from the EU market, with a view to restricting job competition from immigrants, who are different again from those who wanted to give the political classes a kicking. So Brexit supporters are not really a group at all, as such, and reflecting their many myriad concerns will be imperative for any worthy artistic response, regardless of how Theatre makers may themselves have voted.
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Post by Steve on Jul 9, 2016 11:22:22 GMT
This is from the comments under a Guardian review by Mikey Billington. School of Parsley or by the master under a pseudonym ? To be honest I saw only the first half because I couldn't stomach the slog of the second half....I did swear at the assistant director at half time before walking out....and feel justified in doing so......if I'd have had a bad pint or bad meal then I feel I have the right to vent my opinion....and with theatre you're offered no refund.......a lot of people have enjoyed it and good for them....but I didn't... As an attendee at the School of Parsley, I can assure you that this is not Parsley. The phrase "To be honest" is too mealy-mouthed, and suggests that the writer sometimes tempers his honesty out of politeness. Parsley is a river of truth washing the Augean stables of staid theatre bare of it's pretensions. Since Parsley IS truth, he could never use this phrase. The writer then goes on to describe the play as a "slog." Parsley often will use "s" words to describe a play, but never that one, which is apologetically weak. The writer swore at the "assistant director" on walking out. Parsley would never blame wage slaves for the decisions of their masters. Parsley would, by contrast, threaten the producer with a "withdrawal of investment." The writer compares the play to having a "bad pint." Parsley is not the Pub Landlord. If he was to imbibe, and risk contaminating his Missoni cardigan with fluid, it would not be a "pint." The writer pipes up to justify her "right to vent her opinion." Parsley assumes this right, without justification. The writer uses the phrase "a lot of people have enjoyed it and good for them." This is not contemptuous enough. Parsley's disdain for the self-regarding cattle of the metropolitan elite, that uncomplainingly and unquestioningly consume theatrical grass, is so great that not only would he not wish them well, he would not use the word "people" to describe them.
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Post by Steve on Jul 7, 2016 18:27:20 GMT
I saw the 4th preview last night too. This is a play that should never be locked.
Some spoilers follow. . .
If a play is about an obsessive artistic quest for perfection, which the title both suggests and threatens is "unreachable," then Anthony Neilson should abandon the idea of a press night, and just keep working on the show, rewriting it every day to the very last day, August 6th. Critics could come on any random day.
As others have implied, there is a specific ending already in place, which Neilson is working towards, and it makes sense that he should never quit working towards it, attempting a "perfect" play, just as Matt Smith's Maxim wants to film "perfect light."
The obvious cinematic inspiration for this show is the documentary, "Burden of Dreams," which depicts film director, Werner Herzog and actor Klaus Kinski, at war with nature and at war with each other as they try to make an insanely impossible film, "Fitzcarraldo." In the documentary, Herzog almost has a nervous breakdown as he attempts to manually push a three hundred ton ship over a hill, and deal with the maniacal egotist, Kinski, who took over from Jason Robards half way through the shoot, and who also will not compromise one inch on his own artistic vision.
The documentary is one of the best ever made about the borderline between art and madness.
Here, together with his actor collaborators, Neilson explores the burden, and meaning, of Matt Smith's Maxim's dream quest for "perfect light." Jonjo O'Neill's Ivan is a thinly veiled Klaus Kinski, while Matt Smith's Maxim is Herzog.
All the characters in the show have their own interpretation of what art means, and it is this consideration of the different meanings of art to different people, what it is, how it is created, that Neilson is exploring.
For the most part, Jonjo O'Neill's Kinski makes for such hilariously irrepressible broad comedy that he eats the subtler parts of the show, though Matt Smith does a great job at balancing comedy with a more introspective interpretation of what it means to be Maxim.
The first act is a broad comedy tour de force.
The second act is still scripts-in-hand, new scenes written overnight, edging closer to Neilson's end vision. But Neilson is still some way from bridging the gap to the end scene, with meandering story points that are pertinent, but insufficiently focused, and drastic jarring tonal changes, and it's a damn shame if he has to stop trying to get there on Friday. Maxim would not stop, he would keep reaching, as would Werner Herzog, and Neilson should obviously fall in line behind them, and fight to hone his own crazy vision to the very end of the run.
I liked every actor in this: Tamara Lawrance's depiction of the actor as sociopath, Richard Pyros' DP's opportunism, Amanda Drew's producer's machiavellian devotion to her director, Genevieve Barr's pragmatic financier, Matt Smith's self-destructive director and most of all, Jonjo O'Neill's unrestrained bonkers rendition of the artist that was Klaus Kinski!
This work is unfinished, and should not be finished, if it is true to itself. I'll be back. Fascinating.
4 stars 😊
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Post by Steve on Jul 5, 2016 20:00:34 GMT
I saw it. For me, the ending was everything. I suppose I can talk about it now, as it's over. . . Having to wear a plastic mac made me feel both fearful and excited. Having seaweed thrown at my head, and water squirted in my face, was jarring, and conditioned me not only to relax, but also to do what I was told: a kind of waterboarding for overgrown kids. The torture continued with the screaming and shouting of 25 "singers", who engaged in choreographed yet haphazard frenzied dancing, who touched their tongues one to the other, between melding all sorts of musical genres, including a bit of Aladdin and a bit of Les Mis, with all sorts of pop, and overall sensory overload to complete a full Guantanamo Bay softening up. Duly compliant, we were led onto the stage, and encouraged to emulate the noisy jumping up and down, and cacophanous karaoke, that we had heretofore been listening to. Once I realised the audience were on the stage performing, and the performers were in the seating area, it seemed the point of the Guantanamo treatment was to make us compliant enough to switch places: the audience now performers, the performers the audience. The coup-de-grace, as we exited, confirmed this, as every performer lined up like they were fans, high-fived me, shaking my hand, and generally acting like I was Kit Harrington at the stage door of Dr. Faustus. For a moment, I thought that we were being critiqued for our passivity as audiences and as people, which may have been part of the theme, but for the most part, the performers seemed so genuinely pleased to see us, so happy to be with us, that I read this ultimately as a celebration of performance, engagement and life in general. 4 stars
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Post by Steve on Jul 5, 2016 7:39:35 GMT
Ah, I was hoping for no comments on my last comment! Best make it the pehultimate comment. I will only raise one point which deals with a point of fac,s not opinion: the European Commission has a MONOPOLY on initiating legislation, therefore all European legislation either starts from an unelected body or is subject to its pre-approval. In September, we will have an unelected Prime Minister, who will sit with an unelected Cabinet, to determine the agenda of the UK. That is considered democratic because we voted for the MPs who choose these unelected people. By the same token, the European Commission set the European agenda because they are nominated by the Council of Ministers, and voted in by the European Parliament, our elected representatives. So the unelected body that determines the European agenda for 5 years, is similar to our own unelected body that sets our own agenda for 5 years. You make a good point though, that it is not possible in Europe to table "private member's bills" to be voted on by the European Parliament. Of course, our own Eurosceptic leaders are the very people resisting such a possibility, as they consider the further empowering of the European Parliament, to table even MORE laws, to be an outrageous increase in the "supranational" authority of Europe. That is precisely what they don't want, an increase in the heat of the bathwater of European power. What they have always wanted, and what they have now apparently succeeded in doing, is to kill the baby in that bathwater.
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Post by Steve on Jul 4, 2016 10:19:44 GMT
My final post on this subject. Loving Europeans (or loving people from any other continent) is not a reason in itself for wanting to be ruled by an unelected, and therefore totally unrepresentative minority, who happen to hide behind a particular idea of Europe as the only way in which we as a continent can cooperate and be better together. When the current EU collapses, and it will happen because those with the power to reform it have no interest in doing so, maybe a new structure will be put in place which achieves prosperity and fairness without pomp and waste. The European Parliament is elected, as is our Parliament. Since our Parliament operates first-past-the-post, it is actually less representative than the European Parliament. If you are referring to the European Commission, they are like our Civil Service, also not elected, (and often wielding more real power than our elected representatives, as I know from the documentary series, "Yes Minister" starring Nigel Hawthorne). However, since the European Commission are answerable to the European Parliament, that is not undemocratic, just as our use of an unelected Civil Service is not undemocratic. The other body we have in this Country, the House of Lords, is totally undemocratic and unelected, whereas in Europe, the second body, the Council of Ministers, consists entirely of elected representatives. Europe has more democracy and representation than we do. If what you actually object to is having to listen to the views of 27 other countries, that is your prerogative. And I take your point that the current EU will collapse some day. But everything will collapse some day: every power, every land mass, every union, every family, every person, we will all collapse some day. I prefer to keep alive institutions that provide opportunities for cooperation among us, and the EU standing together is a greater force to resist tyranny elsewhere (and within) than it is torn apart. The fact that the majority of expert opinion is that we are shooting ourselves in the foot economically by leaving the EU also weighs on me. Of course, experts may not be right, but their opinion is better than guesses. The idea that "pomp" will be ended people who wield pompous words like "sovereignty" seems unlikely. Maybe "waste" will be reduced by Brexit. Well, it will have to be, because if the experts are right, the permananent contraction of the economy may mean there is precious little left to waste.
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Post by Steve on Jun 30, 2016 12:38:10 GMT
I was there last night, and this show has morphed under the new cast into the most hilarious escapism in London! Spoilers follow. . . I had seen the show at the Savoy, but booked one of those half-price flash sales, to see Samantha Spiro, after reading good things here. I had hoped to see a more subtle take on Adelaide than the effortful Sophie Thompson, so I was peeved when the cast changed under me. However, post Brexit, I felt so miserable, that the prospect of being "steamrolled by the Rebel Wilson train" seemed like just the tonic. This show is through-the-roof hilarious now! Clearly, if you haven't a taste for broad comedy, this isn't for you. But if you do, only Mischief Theatre can rival this show for laughs. And here, the singing is better. It isn't just Rebel Wilson. Swapping David Haig for Simon Lipkin is like swapping cheese for chalk. Haig really was "good old reliable Nathan [Detroit,]" wheres Simon Lipkin's Nathan is about as reliable as a promise from Michael Gove. You wouldn't trust this klutz to walk up stairs without falling over, let alone run a crap game. And that doesn't bother me, because this is escapism, not realism. Simon Lipkin's shtick amuses the heck out of me: he stutters and sweats, frets and jigs, more nervous than a teenager on his first date. If Haig was butter, Lipkin is scrambled eggs. One of the problems of the show at the Savoy (perhaps the only one) was the mismatch between Haig's realistic performance and Sophie Thompson's comic exaggerations. By contrast, Simon Lipkin and Rebel Wilson balance each other. Not merely in the sense that they both have an effortless easy talent for comedy. They also balance each other because the shtick each does is the opposite of what the other does. Where Lipkin is nervy and fearful, Wilson is brazen and fearless. Where Lipkin fears to tread, Wilson will tread on everyone and everything and not notice. It makes so much sense that someone-who-thinks-too-much (Lipkin's Nathan) and someone-who-thinks-too-little (Wilson's Adelaide) fall head over heels for each other. They are like Jack Spratt and his wife, and between the two of them, they lick the comedy platter completely clean, with their complementary styles of comedy. Rebel Wilson is quintessential blundering blustering Fanny Brice. In "Take Back your Mink," her charisma makes her stand out from every girl around her, spiked by the obvious visual difference of her body type. She is a natural comedienne, able to expand her frame and mouth and gestures, but also has the musical theatre knack of withdrawing into sudden sentimentality and making it work. If there was one thing Wilson could make work better, it is that she doesn't appear sneezy enough in "Adelaide's Lament," though perhaps she saves that for "Adelaide's second lament," which worked a treat. As long as you are prepared to throw realism to the wind, and are ready for big silliness, the Lipkin-Wilson duo are the most joyful and funny pairing on the London stage. And this show keeps on giving, because the Oliver Tompsett - Siubhan Harrison pairing is almost as delightful, and by the end, it IS as delightful. Not at the beginning though, as Tompsett is a very different beast to Jamie Parker. Parker is so loveable and charismatic a presence that I was rooting for his Sky Masterson from his first gleaming toothy grin. Tompsett is smarmy by comparison. It is as if Parker was one part Frank Sinatra, one part preening puppy, whereas Tompsett is one part Clark Gable, one part slithering snake. It is the snake-like quality of Tompsett that had me rooting for Lipkin's Detroit to take sleazy Tompsett's money. At the Savoy, I wanted the opposite, for chirpy Parker's Masterson to take Haig's money. But Tompsett's oily presence actually proves a boon to the production, as it gives his character further to narratively travel towards falling in love with Siubhan Harrison's adorable Sarah Brown. And when Tompsett makes his turn, and gets heartfelt about Harrison, he really milked it, and I was very touched! Overall, this is a stonkingly funny and entertaining show, and the move away from romantic realism to all around comic escapism makes this the best and most entertaining tonic for our times that I can think of. 5 stars
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Post by Steve on Jun 30, 2016 11:39:51 GMT
Gove wrecked Boris' chances by not backing him. What a feckless mob they are!
That leaked email to Gove from his wife, machiavellian Daily Fail writer Sarah Vine was spot on: "Crucially, the membership will not have the necessary reassurance to back Boris, neither will Dacre/Murdoch, who instinctively dislike Boris but trust your ability enough to support a Boris Gove ticket."
So the rabble-rousing immigrant-hater, Dacre, who insists women should only ever wear dresses, and Murdoch, who said he wanted out of the EU because they won't listen to him, whereas he can tell the UK Government what to do, get their way.
I hope they all implode.
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Post by Steve on Jun 28, 2016 19:45:01 GMT
REM, always, for all occasions:
Shiny Happy People Funtime Summertime I Believe Stand Belong Hope All the Right Friends What If We Give It Away?
Jesus Christ Revolution So Fast, So Numb Radio Free Europe Maps and Legends Final Straw It Happened Today Bad Day
Aftermath Nightswimming Low Losing My Religion World Leader Pretend I Wanted to Be Wrong Departure Crazy Blue Bittersweet Me The Apologist Diminished Leave Everybody Hurts
The Outsiders Second Guessing Walk It Back Let Me In Perfect Circle
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Brexit
Jun 28, 2016 19:18:47 GMT
Post by Steve on Jun 28, 2016 19:18:47 GMT
After writing one of the Sun's key campaigning columns last week in favour of Brexit, "10 reasons why we must vote Brexit," today Kelvin McKenzie says he regrets voting Brexit.
What an absolute disgrace that man is!
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Post by Steve on Jun 27, 2016 16:32:56 GMT
At the moment we are in the situation where people have voted on what they don't want. As there was no coherence or plan from the leave side, and I suppose naturally as they were a pressure group not a party, then there will need to be a confirmation vote for whatever is actually negotiated. I don't want or expect this referendum to be rerun as the result was because of the nature of it being as above. What I would like is the chance to vote on what we are eventually offered. Because again, if we are not, there will be years of people saying they were not given the choice and that has to be avoided in order to create some sort of definite settlement. So, a couple of years (maybe more if people really don't know what comes next) and a referendum on the proposals is necessary. The other option on the ballot would necessarily be re-entrance to the EU as it exists at that time (which is likely to have been reformed in a number of ways by then). The more I think of it, the more I think that a vote to accept or reject any proposals is necessary. I wish that would happen! The vote was about us telling each other stories (some of which were porkies) about alternate futures, without anyone having a clue what the future would really be like. If the future outside the EU is actually one of nimbleness, dynamism, re-integration with Europe, by and large, though not with all it's regulations, and greater engagement with the rest of the world, I could vote for that deal; But if the future outside the EU is isolation, trade barriers, irrelevance, nostalgia, tribalism, anger on the streets, poverty, then I wouldn't vote for that deal. Once Boris Johnson's government is installed (please let it be him) and at work, and presents us with a deal, at least we'd have a few facts and less bull to guide us, rather than the awful lies, damned lies and statistics that we have had to put up with. Nothing has annoyed me more than Michael Gove's "I think people in this country have had enough of experts," and the lemming-like lunacy of that! On another note, one thing that cheered me up was hearing something that we do brilliantly in this Country, which is topical irreverent comedy. The post-Brexit "Dead Ringers" half hour was a real relief to listen to, and laugh at, after all the recent stress. It includes a goodbye song from David Cameron, and some hilarious Boris Bumbling lol: www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b07glx81
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Post by Steve on Jun 27, 2016 10:13:45 GMT
Saw this Sunday matinee, and it's a remarkable transformation of Shakespeare's "King Lear" into a ritual of renewal. Some spoilers follow. . . I usually have one problem or another with "King Lear." Some aspect of his transformation that I can't quite buy. Even Ian McKellen couldn't sell Lear to me, one moment unbelievably petty, the next incredibly wise. Jonathan Pryce came closest, his overly manipulative fingers peeled away from control of those around him, slowly, painfully, one by one. This Lear is not about Lear's change, but the world's change. The individualism of Lear is irrelevant. His disrespect for the land, his attempt to own it, to allocate it, to give it away and control it, in this Aboriginal Lear, means that the land will take revenge on him, and everyone on it, renewing itself. Tom E Lewis' Lear fiercely dances and sings his way through this Lear. His is not the dour Lear we typically see, but a dynamic Lear who sings and dances. But he has forgotten the meaning of his singing and dancing. It is only when he throws the red dirt of the earth up and over himself, that he reconnects to the rituals that the singing and dancing were meant for, the bond between man and the earth beneath him. This spiritual connection to the earth we come from is what gives this Lear it's power. Edmund disavows it, Edgar embraces it, and Kamahi Djordon King's wise Fool has always known it. He knows what stories are. He tells us that Lear is Britain's "dreamtime," and for one hour and thirty minutes it will be Australia's "dreamtime," and as musical instruments play, and singers wail and crow, the whole narrative dissolves into a hurricane of renewal, by which the Earth reasserts it's dominance over man, and the Earth's red dust floats through the air at the Barbican, and resettles. The effect is not dissimilar to a documentary like Koyaanisqatsi: Life Out of Balance, and indeed, there is a cinema screen broadcasting images of nature and the Earth behind, but here that balance reasserts itself, the Lear narrative and storytelling generally revealing themselves to be components in our own ritual of renewal. Shakespeare's words have almost wholly been rewritten, into Kriol and Australian English, and that too feels part of the process of renewal that this production is about. Although I felt the loss of some of Shakespeare's language, although I missed the nuances of Lear's individuality, the sense of all aspects of this story swirling in concert to refresh and renew the audience was so palpable that I won't see "King Lear" in quite the same way again. 4 stars
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Post by Steve on Jun 26, 2016 20:32:29 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. Of course the majority wins, and must get what it wants, but the majority in one year may not want what the majority now wants, and should be allowed to change it's mind. If I decide to walk under a bus today, may I not change my mind just before stepping into the road? That is why it is important that Boris Johnson become the next PM. Anything else would be seen as an attempt by the remainers to subvert the democratic will of the people. This Brexit is going to stink, economically (as recession hits, and there is less money for the have-nots in society, who voted for this debacle), militarily (as we no longer will have a veto to prevent a European army emerging to subvert Nato) and I want every bit of that stink to rub off on Boris Johnson. What needs to happen is for Brexiteers to become the establishment. The unfortunate truth is that the disadvantaged and side-lined will always take revenge on the establishment in any vote, and the conflating of that fact with the Brexiteers' pushing of a false superior nostalgic and prejudiced view of foreigners and Europe made people vote for the false hope of a new dawn. Let us not forget that it was Boris Johnson who described himself as having a "weird sense of power" when he used to file those bogus and biased anti-European reports, as the Daily Telegraph's man in Brussels, and get the country frothing about bendy bananas and the like. If Boris is PM, and becomes the establishment, it will be easier to destabilise the whole Brexit project before the two years is up, because he will get bad news after bad news after bad news, and the whole stinking thing might come tumbling down, as Brexit voters are consumed by buyer's remorse. I know I'm "stupid" for looking for a way out, but that is why I signed that petition, so that some future "saviour" can point to it as just one other tool in their weapon cupboard when Johnson and his failed stinking project are ripe for being picked off. What must not happen is for Theresa May to become PM. She is a remainer, and that is not what the country has voted for. Then Johnson can put the stink on her, and inherit the earth afterwards. No way!
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Brexit
Jun 26, 2016 11:39:54 GMT
Post by Steve on Jun 26, 2016 11:39:54 GMT
I know it will almost certainly fail. But I'd rather the band played on as our ship of state sinks, so I just signed the petition to trigger another referendum. The idea is that people who voted for Brexit will have had their eyes opened to all the lies by the time there is a second referendum, so may change their mind. 3 million have signed so far: petition.parliament.uk/petitions/131215
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Post by Steve on Jun 25, 2016 23:45:28 GMT
The most moving thing I saw today was not a play, but two guys holding hands with signs saying "muslim and proud to be gay." There are so many cranks in the world who might take offense to that that I was bowled over how brave they are, and I teared up right away.
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Post by Steve on Jun 25, 2016 23:40:55 GMT
I had an emergency visit with the dentist on Tuesday, and he was eager to canvas my vote for Brexit. At least, I gathered that when, drill in hand, he said those famous words: "If we weren't in the EU, would we join now?" I was scared, cos I didn't want a man with anesthetic and a drill to know I was in political disagreement with him. So I obfuscated, and said "It'll be a close vote, down to the wire I think." He then proceeded to tell me about his suction machine, which he raged had once had a squirt gun attached, making it a dual use device. Suck out the yuck, spray in the antiseptic water, rinse and spit. But he said, the EU had banned the device, cos they said the bacteria from the sucking could go down the spray nozzle, and he fumed, the bacteria would then chase it's way down the device and back into the water supply, and my mouth would poison the whole of the London water supply. This made eminent sense to me, but the dentist was so angry about it that I said instead: "So what the EU is saying is that a bacteria from my mouth will charge into your nozzle, and like Tom Cruise from "Mission Impossible," accept it's mission to infect the whole country!?" "Yes, that's exactly it!" he exclaimed, infuriated. I started humming the Mission Impossible theme to rile him up some more, and thankfully, he got the joke and laughed. We both shook our heads at all the "EU craziness," after which I visited the polls on Thursday to vote for Remain, vigilant about our water supply. Anyway, this incident confirms Theatremonkey's point that not all Brexit voters were Little Englanders terrified of the foreign "other." Some just want double-nozzle suck-and-squirt guns.
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