Could I say that the Theatre Season has kicked off?
The sublime (see here for a review of last weeks "A Few Good Men") to the delightfully ridiculous "Complete Works of Billy Wobbledagger" (there is a thirteen year old in all of us) that condenses thirty seven plays into two and a bit hours. Reader's Digest eat your heart out! As an aside, and totally off the point, when did using wikipedia become so totally unfashionable? Just asking.......
Our evening started with a visit to the optician. Actually it did not start with that but if I told you about the other thing then I would never get to the theatre thing.
Those of you who are friends with Bryan on Facebook will know that he has suffered the indignity of getting reading glasses. Having worn glasses since I was a teen I am not really terribly sympathetic. Off we trot. Me to get new spectacles that will enable me to navigate my life, and a pair of "very sexy on anyone but me" sunglasses to replace the ones I left in Cape Town in May and Bryan to collect his aforementioned reading glasses. Armed with our new toys (how sad) we found our way to DUCTAC for the opening night of the show. We had the very good fortune of nabbing two of the last four tickets on sale. Word to the wise. GET YOUR TICKETS NOW!
Bryan was in heaven. he could actually read the programme.
Anyway, back to my favourite way to start the weekend. A night at the Theatre.
Director, Brent Jenkins, made a very savvy choice in his play. Judging by
the show of hands in the audience it is safe to say that most people from most
walks of life and corners of the Globe are familiar with Shakespeare. A
director with a mind to getting bums in seats should do well with a title that
alludes to The Bard. Once that director has you firmly in his clutches he can
have the most fun throwing all your preconceived notions of the seriousness of
Shakespeare out the window. And Brent did. A great script teamed with lively
direction and good acting entertained the enthusiastic audience for the entire
show.
I particularly enjoyed the reaction of the teenage man boys sitting in front
of us. They were almost as delightful to watch as the actors. The innocence of
their shocked, slightly nervous laughter turning into rolling about belly
laughing at Juliet's comically tragic suicide (on discovering the death of her
beloved Romeo) was a treat all on its own.
The play can be described as an interactive, scripted piece that allows for
a degree of improvisation. Latecomers were not spared the humorous digs of the
cast and in turn the audiences laughter. If you don't want to be the butt of a
joke don't be late!
The cast (for thirty seven plays remember) consists of three men and a few
unsuspecting audience members. Often, in this particular play, the actors play themselves.
In this production Toby Masson, Gordon Torbet and Cliff Single took the parts
of the players performing the assorted roles. And they did a very good job
of it too. The script is fast paced, and that, combined with the opportunity for a
bit of improvisation, means that the actors have to have their wits about them
for every second of the show. They cannot lose the plot. When you are acting as
hacks you absolutely cannot afford to be hackish or the whole things falls
flat. Our actors held that script together with charming skilful humour. Often crass
charm. There is lots of toilet humour and eye rolling and sighing and dramatic luvvy
sulking.
I would have had a bit more nuance between when the actors are playing the
players and playing the Shakespearean characters. Just a subtle thing for
me. Maybe the use of the American accents was used to highlight the differences
between the actors and the Shakespearean characters? It did not work for
me. The accents were okay-ish but not needed. Except the Scottish accents for the
Scottish play. That was essential. As were the accents in the Rap number. Now
you know you have to see the show..... Rap in Shakespeare?
Cliff Single plays Jess the touted (non-expert) expert on Shakespeare who
tries valiantly to add a bit of culture to the proceedings and I can happily
report that he completely fails to add even an ounce of culture to the show.
The path of the purist is a lonely one. A great performance.
Toby Masson's untiring, energetic performances had me wondering if he
collapsed in a tiny heap after the show from sheer physical exhaustion. He was
here. He was there. He was like that Damned Scarlet Pimpernel and was bloody
everywhere! Go Toby!
Gordon Torbet, I think, played most of the female roles, or was it just that
he did it so badly (in the best way I promise) that I remember him for that?
Either way he does not look good in a blond wig and no one would ever mistake
him for a gal, not even on a moonless night in a shadowy dark alley. I am just
saying. What he did do exceptionally well was slip into a short soliloquy which
was the only serious moment in the entire production. He took the audience from
laugh out loud to serious in a skilfully crafted shift in gears. Thank you for
that moment.
We loved the show. The audience loved the show. We laughed. We laughed some
more. If you want to share in the laughter go to the Theatre THIS WEEKEND.
Don't delay. The run is short, ending on the 6th October.
