Hi Diddly Dee, an Actor's Life for Me
"Those who agree with us may not be right, but we admire their astuteness."
Cullen Hightower
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Vanity Blog
The show is reviewed in the current edition of Time Out and the nun chorus is given special mention: '...a large procession of candle-carrying nuns who emerge with numinous aplomb from the enveloping dark as the heroine tries to reconcile herself to a lonely martyrdom. You can pay £45 on Shaftesbury Avenue and not get anything half so impressive by way of a chorus line.' WOOO! Robert Shore, we love you. That one's going on my CV for sure. |
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2.8.06 12:06 |
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Travelling Without Moving
Those of you who live in North London will be familiar with the (frankly quite rubbish) trainline that is the Silverlink. It was, however, the reason for Disgruntled starting her blog, so it can't be all bad. However, I digress... On Saturday I caught the Silverlink from West Hampstead, heading for Dalston Kingsland to do the show. As we drew into Camden Road there was a rather arsey-sounding announcement from the driver: 'if any of you mess with the doors again, the train will be rendered unusable and stopped immediately.' We all looked at each other with raised eyebrows, tutted a bit and then turned back to our books/newspapers/ice creams (delete as applicable, according to age). The train, however, did not start to move again. After a few minutes, there was another announcement from the driver: 'Due to a fault on the train that cannot be rectified at this station, this train is now out of service. All change.' Dammit. We all piled out on to the platform and prepared to wait 15 mins for the next train. Luckily it did actually arrive (it's never guaranteed with Silverlink) and everyone tried to pile on. However, our train had been packed, and this one wasn't much different. You'll all have spotted the problem already - no room at the inn. This didn't stop people trying to squeeze in, however. Not me - I'm not on until the 2nd half of the show, so decided that I could afford to be late. I therefore stood back and watched with amusement as one very camp American man started getting irate with his fellow passengers for not moving down the train sufficiently. It turned out that the space he thought he could see was actually filled with a child in a pushchair. Didn't stop him calling the woman who owned the pushchair a silly cow and nearly starting a fight. I was therefore very amused to see, when I got onto the next train after this one, that he'd had to get out after one stop as in his flouncing around he'd neglected to drag his partner on to the train with him...
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8.8.06 15:24 |
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Adventure
Ooh, today has been filled with intrigue already - and it's only 4pm.
One of the other nuns in the show put me on to something fun via the National Theatre website. If you go to their website and search on 'rabbit' you will find links to a mystery adventure, which all looks rather exciting. I emailed one of the addresses given, and received an email back which freaked me out a little, I have to say, as it showed that this person knows exactly who I am... '...Else talk to me more here - the more we talk the more adventures may open up to you. How is Sister Marcus these days?' I am now, of course, even more intrigued than I was to start with, so I have emailed for more information and am hoping for ADVENTURES to ensue! I'll let you all know how I get on... |
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10.8.06 16:18 |
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Brilliant
As I travelled along Essex Road on the bus last night, I spotted not one but TWO amusing shop names. One proclaims its name in large letters as 'The S&M Cafe'. On closer inspection, S&M proves to stand for Sausage and Mash - how many confused customers do you think they get late on a Saturday night? The other is a taxidermist's, called (wait for it....) . . . . . . Get Stuffed.
Pure genius. |
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12.8.06 11:17 |
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blog gold
As I travelled to the theatre the other night there was a man sitting reading The Metro. As is the way of all travellers sans reading material of their own, I idly glanced over his shoulder to see if there was anything good therein. My interest was piqued as he turned the page and I saw the headline 'We do like to blog beside the seaside'. I couldn't quite read the story text and so, disappointed, turned my attention to the view out of the window. However, my gaze was caught by the reflection of the headline in the window instead. The mirror image of the word blog is gold. Coincidence? I think not... |
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14.8.06 16:13 |
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On Market Boys and Rabbits...
I spent yesterday afternoon down at the National Theatre and had a fantastic time. First of all I went to see Market Boy, which I thoroughly enjoyed. As the title suggests, it tells the story of Boy, from 1985 through to 1991. The play starts with Boy at the age of 13, being dragged by his mum down to Romford Market to get a Saturday job on the shoe stall, and continues to follow him through his first forays into the world of girls and romance, learning some harsh life lessons along the way, until at the end of the play he has grown up enough to decide that he wants to move on, go to college and make something more of his life. The entire thing is set to a soundtrack of appropriate 80s music - the cast all sing and dance to varying degrees, although I would call it a play with music, rather than a full-on musical. There is a wonderful choreographed scene at the beginning of the second half, involving flags, rousing speeches and a majestic character appearing, winged, from the flies - sheer brilliance. Also woven into the story is a political observation on how our country changed in those 6 years. I went to watch the show with a friend who was only born in December 1984, and was brought up in Saudi Arabia, so it was interesting to talk to her about that time, as she had very little memory of it. I can't say that I was particularly politically aware at that point in time, either, but I remember certain salient points: the wideboys who came from nothing to great prominence in the city, only to fall back again when the crash came; Maggie Thatcher; the rise of acid house - all these are covered in the show. Great stuff - go see... When the show finished I went to find out more about the elusive Rabbit . I followed signs and took furtive photographs; I looked into every nook and cranny of the National Theatre. I haven't yet met Rabbit himself, but I can feel myself getting closer with every day. It's all most exciting and I quite fancy myself as a spy now. |
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16.8.06 12:45 |
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Self Respect?
On flicking through this month's copy of Vogue, I came across the above ad for Selfridges' new designer rooms. It stopped me dead in my tracks - so from that point of view I suppose it's successful advertising - but for all the wrong reasons. 'Whatever it takes'? To some people that might mean going to the gym more or cutting out ice-cream; but to others it means plastic surgery, anorexia or bulimia. This is an ad that preys on neuroses and, as such, is a million miles away from being about self respect. Self-respect is about treating yourself well. Selfridges, have some self-respect and stop running this ad. Please. Current mood: sad and angry |
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19.8.06 15:46 |
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