Remember Sesame Street? You learnt your 123s and your ABCs along with your Zees (hopefully someone was there to inform you of the correct pronunciation). Well just when you thought you had outgrown that show… Avenue Q is the West End musical that will get you excited over puppets all over again! Continue reading “Avenue Q with Simon Lipkin”
Sniffer dogs and detective bees have never been the conventional formula for a bestseller, but it is perhaps a fitting tribute to Amber Marks’ distinct life that her debut book, Headspace, provides an absurdly unique insight into a relatively unknown human rights issue. Despite its classification as ‘non-fiction’, Marks tells a story which would befit the bookshelves of even the most diehard novel enthusiast. Her charismatic, charming tone delivers what would otherwise be a linear and frankly dull subject, in a light-hearted, entertaining way.
The book focuses on an issue which Marks herself became enveloped in, during her time as a criminal law barrister, when, at a drugs trial, a policeman delivered evidence procured by a regular sniffer dog. The essence of such evidence, which had in the past led to convictions, was difficult to reconcile and, sparking her prevalent inquisitive side, Amber Marks embarked on a journey which would see her unearth some Orwellian truths on police powers.
Focusing mainly on the role of sniffer dogs, the book plunders through a number of scientific and legal issues, balancing the elucidation of both between the amusing and the factual. Indeed, it is this compromise which puts Headspace on unparalleled footing, with the brilliant quotations introducing each chapter ranging from Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, to a line from Myer’s Austin Powers.
Nevertheless, despite inducing several real ‘laugh out loud’ moments, the serious side of the book remains very prominent: Amber Marks is tackling an issue which has come to be considered a status quo in Western life, namely the use of animals in drug detection. Her very personal consideration of the topic allows the reader to consider the far-reaching implications of the process, and the regular real-life references to newspaper articles bring home the draconian nature of the so-called ‘science of smell’. Marks’ opinion on the subject is clear, yet she remains unimposing in her views, allowing the reader to draw their own conclusions to the legal and moral questions her account raises.
Potentially, this book could leave the authorities red-faced, and with a number of politically-charged queries to respond to. Until that time arrives, however, it is well worth a read, if not for its evaluation of today’s surveillance society, then for Marks’ energetic and droll take on the surrounding issues.
This epic story predominantly follows the adventures of two hobbits, Frodo and Sam, who are entrusted with a seemingly impossible mission: the destruction of the Ring of power. Their perilous journey becomes a tale of hope and darkness, love and corruption, friend against foe, but above all - of good triumphing over evil.
A little apprehensive about how the 3hr stage adaptation would fare, the action began before even the curtain was up. Hobbits run around the auditorium causing all kinds of mischief in their attempts to catch glowing fireflies that float overhead. (I actually collided with one, stepping on his hairy little hobbit foot, whilst another tried to catch me in his net.)
Everything is exaggerated; from the costumes to the music, right down to Rosie Cotton’s bottom. The hobbits are energetic, stealing the show with their quirkiness and quick quips (especially Pippin.) But there is too a tone of sadness in their disposition, their laughter and merry ways fading as the power of the Ring grows ever stronger, corrupting their stout hearts.
The elves are enchanting; their costumes as beautiful as they are. Floating elegantly down to the stage, these fragile, otherworldly creatures are full of intrigue and magic. Lady Galadriel however is the star of them all; magnificent and golden, regal in her splendour. Her voice shines out, crystal clear, as she sings of her beloved Lothlorien.
The Orks and the Ringwraiths, evil and terrible, are yet darkly glorious too. During the second half, they are released into the audience, causing shrieks and giggles, but not without an element of unease. Shelob, the spider, is masterfully done (although I must say, I think I’ve seen scarier looking Balrogs lurking in my wardrobe.)
Gollum is incredible. Such a difficult character, but so excellently portrayed. Sinister and pitiful - his internal anguish was gripping, and oh so creepy. Gandalf, Frodo, Sam, Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir, Arwen were all fantastic; the men rugged and tough, and the women strong yet delicate.
The stage effects were artistic, perfectly complimenting the action, truly capturing the epic nature of this tale. There was no doubt you were in Middle Earth watching this ‘history’ unfold. Nothing could have seemed more natural than wizards and elves, hobbits and men, all fighting to destroy the one Ring and defeat the dark Lord Sauron.
Fast-paced and elaborate, energetic and acrobatic, funny yet haunting too - it really is a must-see. From the white wizard himself, “May the hair on your toes never fall out!”
The Lord of the Rings
Drury Lane, Theatre Royal: May 9 2007 – September 27 2008
Adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s novel
3hours 5mins
Tickets: £15-£60
Translated into many languages and performed in over twenty countries on six continents, it is not then surprising that it is the longest running Broadway show in history - recently having celebrated its 21st anniversary (9th October 2007) on the London stage. Directed by Harold Prince, produced by Cameron Macintosh and with music composed by Andrew Lloyd Webber himself; talent abounds.
Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “The Phantom of the Opera” is one of the most well-known musicals across the Western world and I could not quite believe how good it was until I saw it for myself.
The themes are classic: love, mystery and resolve, brought to life with heart inspiring music and impressive special effects. Adapted from the French novel by Gaston Leroux, it tells the story of a mysterious masked man who has an obsession with a beautiful young singer, Christine Daaé, and is set in the Paris Opera House. His desire for her to excel and become lead soprano is posed against the traditional views of the opera producers, and he writes her a new opera to ensure her success - threatening sabotage if his desires are not realised.
The acting across the cast is commendable and special praise should go to the role of the Phantom played by Ramin Karimloo and Robyn North for the role of Christine (The role of Christine is also shared by the actress Leila Benn Harris.) You could feel the chemistry between the actors, and the audience were thus enabled an experiential engagement with the character’s trials and tribulations - at great ease - the filmic adaptation really does it no justice.
It was impressive how the various components amalgamated with such ease and to great dramatic effect so that one became totally involved in the story, mesmerised by the constantly changing visual effects and mobile props that swept over the audience.
The operatic skills of Wendy Ferguson as Carlotta were outstanding, and as she hit the high notes I could actually feel the reverberation in my chest. Leaving the performance, you may find yourself singing songs that will linger in your mind for weeks after.
The ballet performances however, although highly skilled, were at times superfluous.
Yet there is something for everyone: opera, ballet, visual entertainment – the feeling of high culture. Another Andrew Lloyd Webber great? I think so.
The Phantom of the Opera
Her Majesty’s Theatre: October 9 1986 – September 27 2008
Andrew Lloyd Webber, adapted from Gaston Leroux’s novel
2hours 30mins
Tickets: £20-£55
Hugo plans to save his twin Frederic from an awful marriage by hiring the young, beautiful Isabelle to distract him at his family’s winter ball. Little does he realise that his plans will be sabotaged and that love shall reign after all.
You have to hand it to an actor who has enough energy to double himself as a pair of twins. JJ Feild pulls it off in Christopher Fry’s adaptation of Jean Anouilh’s play Ring Round the Moon. Playing Hugo and Frederic at the same time is tough work, but Feild rises to the challenge with gusto, successfully delivering the arrogance of Hugo as well as the sensitivity of Frederic. A simple set allows the play to unfold with all the trickery and folly that occurs between the two brothers, their friends and family. Fiona Button compliments JJ Field with a fantastic turn as the poor and beautiful Isabelle who shows rich people exactly what to do with their money. Yet it is the older and wiser actors who really show what acting for stage is all about; Angela Thorne is the wonderfully witty Aunt who really does know better - bossing people about from her wheelchair, Thorne elevates this comedy above the rest and gives a marvellous impression of the ‘wise old sage’, while Joanna David and Belinda Lang add a playful childish energy, their antics encapsulating the proverbial “young at heart”, finally a sober Peter Eyre typifies the patient and deadpan butler.
This French comedy won’t make you roar with laughter, but with beautiful costumes and an appreciation and nostalgia for manners that no longer exist, it will certainly tickle you. In fact, with two intervals and the beautiful setting that is the Playhouse Theatre this is a treat you shouldn’t miss; takes you back to what proper theatre-going is really all about.
Ring Round the Moon
Playhouse Theatre: February 5 2008 – May 24 2008
Anouilh Jean, adapted by Christopher Fry
Tickets: £6-£46
This play is about two Hollywood producers: one is desperate for fame and fortune, and the other, whilst initially seeking the same material rewards, is led to think differently about making movies.
It is an interesting interpretation of the perpetual conflict within capitalist cultural industries, such as Hollywood. Jeff Goldblum decides he wants to make a movie that will encourage thought and contemplation, as influenced by his rather innocently seductive secretary, but to the horror of Kevin Spacey’s character.
Jeff Goldblum plays the head producer at a production company in Hollywood, led to think differently about what film he will next finance by his temporary secretary, played by Laura Michelle Kelly. Spacey and Goldblum are antithetical, with Spacey searching only for fame, recognition and material wealth. The dialogue is punchy and witty, thanks to David Mamet’s excellent script. The humour takes nothing from the poignancy of the overall production. It ultimately boils down to the tension within contemporary cultural commerce, afflicted with the ‘Hollywood’ condition: to make movies for money or ‘art’?
The performances of the two male leads are captivating and charismatic (due in part to the star quality of Goldblum and Spacey), whilst drawing attention to, and making good use of the aesthetics and space of the stage. Although the performance of Laura Michelle Kelly is impressive, it is her first serious play and I found her character rather stereotypical and one-dimensional. She serves more of as a function for the narrative and the two men, rather than a well developed intricate portrait of a strong woman in Hollywood. However, the gendering of the Hollywood ‘movie business’ as a white male orientated sphere leaves this character plausible, if slightly annoying and predictable. She seems to be highly romanticised and sexualised by the script, initially influencing Goldblum’s character with the promise and performance of sex.
The play is relevant and engaging, with the writing and delivery leaving you with little time for reflection, but nonetheless utterly incorporated into the story. The actors are dynamic, using every part of the stage as a space to narrate; a space created for this whilst also drawing attention to itself as a set.
The heart of the play is undeniably human values: insecurity, fear and juvenility masked with the air of success and confidence. There is an ultimate desire to challenge a superficial and hollow industry, whilst incorporating its futile nature, as represented by Kelly’s character who is never really taken seriously. While the language is fast paced and hard to follow in parts, it acts paradoxically as a suitable disguise, rather than literal discourse, for the underlying message in the narrative. It is about the struggle to find the courage to produce something that is relevant and challenging, themes which run beneath the language; the struggle to locate and create yourself differently within a society that aspires to monetary and material gain.
Speed the Plow
Old Vic Theatre: February 1 2008 – April 21 2008
David Mamet
1hours 25mins
Tickets: £10-£47.50
The BFI IMAX at Waterloo is currently home to two action movies with a difference, Beowulf (2007) and Polar Express (2004), both directed by Robert Zemeckis. The IMAX 3D experience really comes to life with dramatic effect as swords, arrows, trains and snow leap out at you with stunning clarity. The gimmick of 3D as it was in the 90s, with cardboard spectacles stuck to the front of The Radio Times, is done away with for good and IMAX doesn’t look back. It is serious technology and gives the viewer the ultimate performance of the action movie spectacle. Sound thunders all around you in crisp digital surround, and the screen - the height of five double-decker busses - completely engulfs your field of vision, literally putting you in the picture.
Kids watching Polar Express are mesmerised by the action and swipe at the air in front of them in an attempt to touch the reindeer hurtling towards them. This is the perfect Christmas movie, a magical journey to the North Pole with a twist of excitement and adventure. It is totally engrossing and just as good for adults as it is for kids. Tom Hanks provides many of the voices and the film tells a reaffirming story for those who are loosing faith in Father Christmas.
Beowulf’s more grown-up content is just as involving and exciting as the technology of the IMAX format brings the glorious action scenes of this timeless legend to life in a stunning 70mm print. It is truly a film of epic proportions; battles rage all around, mead and mirth flow freely in the drinking halls and sexual allure is a dangerous passion for our hero.
The IMAX opened in 1999, having been built courtesy of a £15 million grant from the Arts Council of England’s Lottery Fund. It was designed by award-winning architect Bryan Avery (of Avery Associates Architects) and is a distinct beacon of design just behind the revitalised BFI Southbank. IMAX is also home to such spectacular features as Deep Sea 3D (2006) and Sea Monsters 3D: A Prehistoric Adventure (2007). These more realistic and educational offerings are just as spectacular and show why the IMAX cinema is one of the most commercially popular and awe-inspiring arms of the BFI.
White Oleander (2002) is one of my favorite films of all time and in one scene features a particularly memorable line, “loneliness is the human condition.” In my opinion, Into the Wild (2007) can best be understood through the lens of that very vision. Directed by Sean Penn, Into the Wild is an adaptation of Jon Krakauer’s best-selling novel (in turn based on a true story). Emile Hirsch gives a stellar performance as Chris McCandless, a 22-year old university graduate who donates his life-savings to OXFAM and embarks on what he calls his ‘great Alaskan adventure’. Over approximately two years he travels alone, passing through several states as far as Mexico via the Colorado River before finally arriving north-in the Alaskan wilderness.
His need for adventure is rooted as much in his desire to experience the unknown as it is in his anxiety to escape the predictability of his future: to forge a solitary path far away from the constraints of home and society. Early in the film, Chris renames himself ‘Alexander Supertramp’, an obvious attempt to sever the connections with what he believes to be a painful and meaningless past. His ascetic journey through the wild at times bears a quality of almost Siddhartha-like spiritual rebirth. Alex allows himself to be molded anew by the people he meets on his travels; poignantly, those who have a significant impact on him are those who assume the role of parental substitute. What has made Alex hollow is consequentially what he craves the most: a loving, united family that keeps no secrets. Thus, he subconsciously seeks out people who are ‘real’ and who value truth as much as he does.
Organized into five chapters, which flow seamlessly, the viewer follows Alex as he matures through the indelible marks left on him by those he encounters. At the beginning of his journey he shuns the traditional role that society dictates that young men his age should assume. He says characteristically, “careers are a 20th century invention” and pointless spending one’s time and effort on. He further argues that the joy in life lies not in human relations. For some, like him, to be content is to be alone; able to know and understand oneself. It is only at the dénouement of his adventure that he comes to realize the flaws in his reasoning that “happiness is only real when shared”.
The urge to erase the past can at times be overwhelming. What this film demonstrates brilliantly is that in reality it is never possible to begin on an entirely blank page-nor indeed is this desirable. The significance of memories is often unacknowledged, and when Chris attempts to run from his own he instead amplifies the feelings that caused him to flee in the first place. As he comes to understand, to be truly happy the journey that must be taken is one whose purpose it will be to make peace with the trauma and sadness of the past, because only then does it become possible to propel further into the future.
Jia Zhangke’s Still Life (2006) follows the quest of our two main protagonists as they search for their estranged spouses in the town on Fenjie in the Sichuan province. The first character is miner, Sanming, and played by Zhangke regular, Han Sanming. He has come to Fenjie to search for his wife who left him sixteen years ago. He is also desperately hoping to meet his daughter, who he has never seen. Hanming arrives in Fenjie clutching a small bag and a tattered piece of paper containing his wife’s address. He wanders through the broken city to find half of it, and the surrounding villages, submerged in water; flooded as a result of the giant and controversial Three Gorges Dam project. What remains of the city is being demolished or is marked for demolition. The people seem dislocated, helpless and alienated. The city nestles in the majestically epic landscape of the Three Gorges - its beauty juxtaposed with the rubble and decay of the city, to great effect. In the second half of the narrative, we watch Shen Hong as she looks for her husband, who disappeared two years ago, apparently moving to live and work in the Fenjie area.
Zhangke captures these people in a way that evokes a stubborn sense of longing: information is presented to us in a dislocated fashion, the climaxes are downplayed and the interactions are subtle. The story seems secondary to the style and tone Zhangke reveals through aesthetics; enduring shots of the wasteland of the city draw the eye to the impressive surrounding scenery and the greys of the crumbling buildings. The spectator is confronted with a harsh portrayal of 21st century urban China, disparate to the mythic creation of China in mainstream films such as Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2003), or House of Flying Daggers (2004).
We watch men working, smashing up walls of concrete, demolishing building after building, the camera lingering on their working bodies, carrying the stress of arduous labour. The script is muted; verbal communication is limited, or replaced by looking and observing. The subtlety of the acting is quite brilliant, the smallest movement on a face communicates poignantly, the use of non-professional actors adds credibility to the narrative and the atmosphere is created by a visual sense of surrounding nothingness and abandoned hope.
These two stories set in this place give a wonderful sense of personal affirmation in an environment that is unstable. The cinematography is breathtaking and the depiction of Chinese life is unflinching and unforgiving, whilst delicate moments of tenderness light up the film.
Still Life runs from February 1, 2008. Coinciding with its release, the BFI Southbank are showing a complete retrospective of Jia Zhangke’s work (with the exception of Dudu which is lost), including features and shorts.
This January the British Film Institute (BFI) Southbank brings Hitchcock’s classic, The Lady Vanishes (1938), back to the big screen. It runs as a part of the Margaret Lockwood retrospective and co-stars Michael Redgrave. The plot is true Hitch; murder, suspense, lies - plus, for the ever-nostalgic at heart, a classic train journey. Travelling from Tyrol to London on the Trans-Continental Express, Lockwood, Britain’s favourite actress from the 1940s, plays Iris Henderson who meets, and quickly falls for, the charms of musician Gilbert Redman. Redman, played by Redgrave, is the only person on the train who believes Henderson’s claims that little old lady, Miss Foy, has mysteriously disappeared. In fact, no one else even believes that Miss Foy exists, begging the question: to what extent can we trust what it is we see?
While at times Lockwood seems to embody the hysterical Hitchcockian heroine, she is more far more scintillating than the likes of some of his later (and blonder) leading ladies. She is punished less by men because of this. But Redgrave, whose performance is resonant of Lawrence Olivier’s in The 39 Steps (1935), speaks for Hitch when he comments on what it is about Lockwood that is so alluring, “There are two things I like about you - you haven’t any manners at all and you’re always seeing things.” Again, the audience is asked to question visual representation, and indeed the illusion that is cinema itself.
Lockwood’s beauty and charisma is perhaps rivalled only by genius comedy duo Nauton Wayne and Basil Radford, two cricket-crazy curmudgeons whose roles are not only to entertain but also to be endearingly English.
There is no doubt that this masterpiece is Hitch at his British best. Before moving on to Hollywood, and as one of his last UK-produced films, The Lady Vanishes is exemplary as a textual representation of what it means to be British. From the riotously overt, “There’s something definitely queer in here” to the downright xenophobic, and pompous, “Well they can’t possibly do anything to us, we’re British subjects”, Hitchcock represents the Nazis through their otherness. What’s more, it is in fact Britishness that brings our protagonists together - when part of the train is derailed by the Nazis (including the dining cart), all the Brits are united - and how? Well, “Luckily at teatime the English are all in the dining cart.” Jolly good stuff.