May 2012


Suchalot laughalot

It’s completely mad, totally ridiculous and one of the best evenings of sheer fun you will have in many a night at the theatre. It is, of course, the zany psuedo musical comedy Spamalot, playing all this week at the Hall for Cornwall.
Created by Eric Idle it is, as the programme proudly states, a show “lovingly ripped off from Monty Python and the Holy Grail” which, as Idle informs us, became the “endearingly silly” film upon which much of this creation is based. For many it will be highly familiar territory enjoyably revisted as they journey with King Arthur and his shambolic knights on their search for the holy grail. All the known hazards are there – the grotesque French, the killer rabbit, the knights who say …. and the brave foe to whom the loss of legs and arms is just a flesh wound.
The dancing is hilariously energetic; the songs are zestful and laugh-along funny. And the many send-ups of the musical comedy genre fire several accurate barbs at pop divas and the numbers they scream across the footlights.
It is an ensemble show in which everyone excels but special mention has to be made of showbiz legends Bonnie Langford as The Lady of the Lake and Todd Carty as the loyally loveable Patsy, as well as multi-talented comedian Marcus Brigstocke as King Arthur.
They and they rest of the cast had the audience totally on side from beginning to end, sharing many a laugh with them along the way.
It’s a rollicking, uproarious fun night out that Tuesday night’s audience so clearly enjoyed and needed no prompting to join in singing the moment that Patsy launched into that song.

Oh dear pussy

You’ve gotta laugh. No really, you do. You can’t help yourself. The show now running at the Hall for Cornwall is ridiculous, self-indulgent, nonsensical, lacking any point or reason and totally inane – but it provides as good an evening’s entertainment as we’ve had for quite some time.
Four members of the notoriously idiotic Spymonkey collective transform Oedipus, the greatest tragedy of all time, into two hours of high farce and slapstick. The jokes begin with its title, Oedipussy – a nod in the direction of the Bond movies – and they don’t get any better. In fact some of them are downright painful.
It is broad, knockabout comedy direct from the school of Buster Keaton, Laurel and Hardy and pantomime dames. Yet for all its faults and weaknesses it manages at least to entertain and raise many a laugh. It is raucous, rude, rustic and Rabelaisian, full-on and in-your-face and mostly succeeds thanks to the energy, comedic skills and sheer physical staying power of its four performers. And I’m sure the young man in the front row will long remember his night out and his confrontation with the female form.
Some judicial pruning wouldn’t go amiss and one or two flatter moments need improving or cutting.
It’s certainly not deep and meaningful but for a mostly hilarious evening it’s hard to beat.
Treat yourself to a chuckle or two. There are still two more nights to go.
Go on, you’ve gotta laugh … and you certainly will.

One-stop editing

Love the story from publisher/writer Anthony Horowitz who records the editor of his 205,000-word Oblivion suggesting he change the voice from third person to first person.
Her “simple” idea was that this could be achieved by using the find/replace dropdown in Word.
But, as Horowitz rightly comments, the reality was “it would mean totally rewriting the whole bloody thing.”
As a result he is no longer speaking to her or, more accurately, “Anthony is no longer speaking to Jane”.

Routine is normal

As esteemed US novelist John Irving explains in a recent interview there is nothing more frustrating than the interferences that interrupt his routine. His day begins with an early rising, a walk with the dog, boiling eggs for breakfast and then into the office until he emerges in late afternoon for a session on his home gym. After 90 minutes of that he cooks dinner and spends time with his wife.
No matter where he is, the routine doesn’t vary.
Boring? Yes, to some. But essential if one is to truly concentrate on the writing task.
Any impatience he demonstrates comes from “an acute awareness of having limited time left to devote to what he feels needs his attention most – his writing and his family”.
And he is a mere youngster at 70.
Time is indeed a limited resource and writers have to use it to their fullest advantage. And before it seeps away.

A bitch of a play

They don’t make them like that any more. Movie stars. I mean. Today’s so-called celebrities couldn’t hold a candle to the two grand dames of the silver screen who are portrayed bitching their way through life in a sublime two-hander at the Hall for Cornwall all this week.
Anita Dobson as Joan Crawford and Greta Scacchi as Bette Davis spar with barbs and scathing one-liners in Bette and Joan, a re-creation of what supposedly occurred on the backlot of Warner Bros studios in Hollywood as the two fading film stars came together in 1962 to reawaken their careers with What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?.
The occasion is cleverly crafted by playwright Anton Burge to encapsulate these two tempestuous careers and the shattering collision of their ego-driven personalities.
The dialogue is sharp and witty as the spotlight shifts between these two abrasive characters – one always determined to be a lady and the other claiming that her acting comes before all else; and each forever plotting to undermine the other.
In a way, both are sad and tragic figures yet they are survivors – two of a kind yet distinctly different. The triumph of the piece is that we laugh with them, rather than at them, as they relish their petty triumphs and recognise their failures and failings.
Another winner for HfC as proved by the rousing first night reception.