50 Ways To Leave Your Lover, The Bush, 22 Jul 2008

They weren't 50! Foul play!

Apart from that dissapointing math mistake, this was one of the most enjoyable evenings out of this summer. Coming and leaving Shepherd's Bush is nowhere as exciting -or death-defying- as our Stafford journey in search of the perfect Hamlet, but it's always a thrill to go to the Green and enjoy the variety of its sights. Not to mention that the Bush is our preferred space in London.

The hook in this case was Ralf Little. Someone who has rubbed shoulders with John Simm and Paddy Considine in that veritable masterpiece -as much as we detest the label, in this case it's necessary- that is 24 Hour Party People, clearly deserved our visit to the neighbourhood. Or maybe we just like Mancunians in our theatrical evenings.

Mister Little did not dissapoint. In fact, we vowed to follow him wherever his career takes him -which, fortunately, won't be more "Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps" because we have to draw a line somewhere. The play itself was delighfully entertaining and unbashedly commercial. We laughed until we cried. We cheered. We demanded a West End transfer - the world at large needs to know the wonders of its bestiality-themed musical number. One of many musical numbers. All of them very enjoyable.

The cast was splendid; long-limbed Ralf Little finally has grown into a likeable leading man. And a funny one, too. Claire Keelan was specially touching when one of the break-up stories turned sour via drug addiction.

Yes, yes, all terribly predictable and meainstream. But also, a very good night in the theatre.

Also, Lucy Kirkwood was part of the writing credits of the play, and we are seriously thinking about becoming part of her fanbase, if she has any, ever since we were suitably enthused by her "Tinderbox" a couple of months ago.

And dear me, I need to learn to write with few adverbs.

Behind the Image, Royal Court, 17 Jul 2008

Went because of Gugu Mbatha-Raw (who is trapped in the appallingly bad "Bonekickers" in BBC1). Didn't know Shelley Conn was in it, too! They were both excellent, heartbreaking and oh, ever so beautiful.

The second half was better than the first (since we had actual interaction between character and not just reports spoken in our faces) but both were interesting and a nice piece of raw theatre.

Fat Pig, Trafalgar Studios, 16 Jul 2008

Robert Webb was quite better than expected. Not that I didn't expected him to be good. He just was even better than I thought he would.

Nice, clean, effective production. I enjoyed listening to the White Stripes during the scene changes.

I still like the Spanish version (¡Gorda!) with Luis Merlo and Iñaki Miramón much, much better. But maybe because it had Luis Merlo and Iñaki Miramón in it.

Neil LaBute is always a good night out, in any case. And giving more money to the Trafalgar (it will always be my favourite theatre, for there I saw Elling) doesn't hurt quite as much.

Girlcrush Alert.

Succesfully purchased tickets for the Donmar's version of Ivanov in the fall. Matinee and extremely expensive, but still.

Am I betraying David Hare's delicious version? (I am unimpressed by Tom Stoppard as a whole)

Who cares? I AM GOING TO SEE ANDREA RISEBOROUGH!

Hamlet, Stafford Castle, 11 Jul 2008

Not really a surprise but Joseph Millson delievered the closest thing to a perfect Hamlet I have seen (I am mildly excited but not really holding my breath for the RSC version on the 24th). Hell, he even walks like Hamlet (yes, from reading the play so many times I have a very clear mental image of how Hamlet should walk).

The man didn't strike a wrong chord, not once. He was disturbingly funny when he had to (my main theory on Hamlet: it needs to be played my someone with great comedy skills, which is why Lawrence Olivier and Kenneth Branagh fail at it and Adrian Lester excels), he was angrier than he was melancholic, he was fit and energetic, disarmingly charming, annoying and annoyed. Yes, the perfect Hamlet.

It was friggin cold that night and I, being a novice to Stafford and the whole open-air theatre experience (and it had been hard enough to actually get to the place to worry about clothes), was terribly underdressed. That I didn't die of hypothermia was nothing short of a miracle. But pain of freezing is nothing when confronted with the perfect delivery Mister Millson offered with every line.

The rest of the cast was competent but average. Louise Jameson (I was shaking with excitement upon seeing her name on the programme, pathetic Doctor Who fan that I am) seemed to try too hard most of the time. Kellie Shirley was a bit weak on the madness part of Ophelia but quite engaging otherwise. Lex Danie started on a bad note with his uncharismatic Claudius but grew on me as the play went. All in all the cast could have been better but it could have been worse. One can only hope what Joseph Millson could have done with supporting actors up to his game - if indeed, there is anyone out there capable of being up to his game.

Now, the circumstances of my trip to the Midlands were almost as dramatic as the Danish Prince's story itself. Only slightly less bloody.

Getting there was the adventure everybody guessed it would be. A mayor failure in the rails delayed or cancelled all trains from Euston that very morning. Predictable. I got there about five in the afternoon, with no map or sense of place. But I succesfully located not only my hotel (The Vine, highly recommended) but a bureau of exchange to take care of my Spanish euros at a very convenient rate. Hotel was seventy quid (but Joseph Millson's talent is priceless) but it had many tv channels. Watched my first ever Avengers episode at two in the morning - damn, Emma Peel is one cool lady.

Castle -and therefore place of performance- was IN THE MIDDLE OF BLOODY NOWHERE, just as one might guess castles should be. Very steep and very pretty, though in the MIDDLE OF BLOODY NOWHERE. Buses didn't reach there. Had to get a taxi (yet more money spent on Mister Millson's awesomeness) to go there. I had no idea how to get back from there; hopefully the girls in the improvised Box Office were very helpful and dug out some taxi phone humbers for me to write down. The taxi back to civilization never seemed to arrive to pick me up - I thought I was going to be chopped to death by some countryside psycho killers from the Midlands.

This is all very irrelevant to the fine theatrical experience that was "Hamlet" but it seemed to add to it all.

So.

I spent 120+ pounds in going to see Joseph Millson in the MIDDLE OF BLOODY NOWHERE and boy, am I glad I did.

New Connections Platform (with Abi Morgan and Mark Ravenhill among others), National Theatre, 8 Jul 2008

Abi Morgan: "I don't do as much research as people suppose me to."

Aw. I rather think of a masterpiece as Sex Traffic as a piece of invention than merely thurough investigative drama. Fiction will always win reality.

Fugee, National Theatre, 7 Jul 2008

Abi Morgan has gone meta on us.

Rejoice.