The Pitmen Painters Mines Heart and Art

Dear friends,

I have just been to see The Pitmen Painters, Lee Hall's new play, and I wanted to sit down immediately and share with you my thoughts about it because the play is about aspiration and it moved me.

The play centres on a group of miners in Northeast England in the early 1930s who hired a lecturer to teach them about art appreciation.  Previously, they had sought and taken tutorials in geology, evolution, and the likes.  Their aim was simple:  they wanted to understand art.  They wanted to look at a painting and understand its meaning.  Robert Lyon, the lecturer, took pains to explain that art is subjective but soldiered on and started by showing picture slides of famous art, like Michaelangelo's work in the Sistine Chapel.  He soon found his efforts frustrated by the workers' scant education.  He then had the idea of letting the workers have a go at the brush themselves, and from each other's critique of the works, develop a sense of art appreciation.  The artworks that came out of these miners' hands surpassed expectations.  This is a true story.

Success as artists came to the miners.  The pitmen artists, who came to call themselves the Ashington Group, were feted at the Tate and the British Museum and their works were collected by Helen Sutherland, one of the foremost collectors of Modernism in the UK.  Their social circles expanded to include the important artists of their time.  They caught the nation's imagination and were featured in documentaries and debated over.  From here the play segued into (sometimes heated) exchanges questioning identity, the snobbery of the art world, and their own aspirations.  At times it feels like a companion piece to Billy Elliot, Lee Hall's earlier and most famous work.

Billy Elliot, The Pitmen Painters - the theme of cultural aspiration of the working class is obviously close to Lee Hall's heart having come from that background himself and who then went on to get a Cambridge education.  You may also notice by now that themes of aspiration vs identity seem to affect me especially (recall my review of The Faith Machine).  Could it be that I'm tired of breakfasting at Tiffany's?

This play is funny, moving, and well scripted and directed.  I commend director Max Roberts for making the decision to keep the stage bare and instead let the artworks speak for themselves.  I totally enjoyed the experience because it was like being in both an art gallery and a play at the same time.  Each of the actors is superb, particularly Brian Lonsdale.  I think he's got a long career ahead of him.  I kept staring at Ian Kelly because he looked familiar and thank you Google(!), I can now place him.  He played a doctor in Downton Abbey.


Until then, sweet-tarts. Kisses.

Hollie Go-Lightly

Verdi's La Traviata at the Royal Opera House

Dear fab friends,

I was quite thrilled to see the Royal Opera House's latest staging of La Traviata, Guiseppe Verdi's most famous opera.  There is something captivating, albeit tragic, about an ill-fated love between a Parisian courtesan and a young bourgeois.  Could such true love exist?

For this year's ROH production, the role of the 'fallen woman', Violetta Valéry, is played by the soprano Marina Poplavskaya.  How she compares with previous divas who possessed the role before her - among them Anna Netrebko, Ermonela Jaho, Renée Fleming and Angela Gheorghiu - I shall never know, but am quite impressed by Poplavskaya's Violetta.  This Russian soprano delivers rich and dramatic vocals while nailing brilliantly the coloratura.  And she can act too, convincing as a high-class tart in the earlier scenes and moving as a dying Violetta in the later acts.  It helps of course that she is gifted with a beautiful face to start with, making her more believable as a courtesan.

The young lover, Alfredo Germont, is played by the good-looking American tenor James Valenti.  I must admit this diva has developed a growing crush on Valenti - tall, masculine, vibrant and possessing of an elegant voice.  It is perfectly imaginable why such a courtesan would fall in love with this man to the point of totally abandoning her old lifestyle (sigh!).  Although Valenti is deeply pleasing to the eyes and ears (and perhaps more, who knows!), his acting somehow lacked the much-needed drama and emotionality, especially towards Violetta.  The chemistry between the lovers is unfortunately absent.

The veteran Italian baritone, Leo Nucci, plays Alfredo's father, Giorgio Germont.  Nucci's voice is quite strong and powerful (too much in some occasions though), drawing loud applause from the audience.  However, his acting was sadly ordinary.  The role of Giorgio calls for a delicate balance between the manipulative and dignified.  Nucci was fine being chillingly cold on being the former, but failed to be convincing on the latter.

One other remarkable thing about this production is the the beautifully designed sets.  How I loved the luxurious casino set in Act II, with a massive circular bronze lamp that hangs centrally on stage.  Or the gigantic blank mirror in the final act towering above the dying Violetta.

So is this production well-worth watching?  To see Poplavskaya's outstanding performance, as well as the beautiful sets, is worthwhile.  But the rest seems to be a bit unsatisfying, unless you too get trapped under the irresistible spell of Valenti.


Yours,

La Dolce Vita

Grief Over Happy

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Dear friends,

Remember Happy-Go-Lucky, Mike Leigh's 2008 film about the incurably optimistic Poppy who was too irritatingly perky for my liking that I just wanted to reach over and give her a slap?  Now think of the opposite of that; the anti-thesis to Poppy, if you like, and you come close to describing Dorothy, the heroine of Mike Leigh's new play at the National Theatre, Grief.

Except that she's not really a heroine.  The word "heroine" implies that the woman to which that description has been ascribed had risen above some obstacles that would have brought ordinary mortals to defeat; someone who had risen above the occasion.  That is not true for Dorothy, or for any character in the play.  In truth, the best that any character has done about their oppressive circumstances is put up a brave face.  "Stiff upper lip" as the English like to say.  In fact, it's all very English, down to the beige wallpaper, the beige carpet, the beige sofa.

The entire auditorium, it seems, has been cleverly set up to allow grief to weigh down even more on the audience as it thickens.  The Cottesloe Theatre, which is National's most flexible auditorium can pretty much be customised according to the director's wishes.  Upon entering, the audience finds the auditorium almost grave: walls are dark, seats are narrow and tightly squeezed, the stage is narrowed and drawn close to the audience, and the set is a nice living room with no character, no signs of wear, and a bit depressing.

Grief has seven characters in it technically, but I would add one more, the biggest character of them all, and that is grief itself.  It permeates through everything and everyone in the play and becomes more oppressive as the clock ticks away.  Two hours long and no intermission, it is merciless. It just builds and builds and does not give the audience a chance to get a breath of fresh air. At the end of the play, an audience member said to me, "What a horrible play! Downright depressing."  And it occurred to me that by that reaction, Mike Leigh and the cast succeeded.

The success of the play rests in large part on the stellar performance of Lesley Manville, Mike Leigh's most frequent collaborator.  Her slow descent into utter devastation is firmly watchable.

Like Happy-Go-Lucky, Grief does not have a plot.  But where that was irritating and felt almost patronising with Happy, it works very well with Grief.  Indeed, the play worked very effectively as a tool for the exploration and investigation of an emotion.  And this, I think, is the main reason I like the play so much - it is an instance when a play steps into the artistic realm of a painting.


Until then, sweet-tarts, kisses,

Hollie-Go-Lightly

A Filthy but Hot Scott Bakula

Photo by Nobby Clark

Dear fab friends,

Have always had an image of Scott Bakula as an intelligent and wholesome guy as Dr. Sam Beckett in the Quantum Leap series, or as a captivating respectable man of authority as Captain Jonathan Archer in the series Star Trek: Enterprise. These images have somehow been disturbingly altered after recently watching Bakula's UK theatre debut performance in Terrible Advise at the Menier Chocolate Factory.

Bakula plays a kept man and a has-been successful womanizer Jake who maintains a deep interest in porn videos and cannabis. He then advises his best friend, Stanley, a neurotic college teacher, to dump all the women in Stanley's life and start a new life. Bakula's advise also covers expert lessons on discrete finger-sniffing and mind-blowing oral sex. I can only suppose that this may be educational for the men in the audience (perhaps including the sweet-tart Hollie), but definitely not for this delicate diva.

Bakula appears unashamedly shirtless and wet in various scenes. One must admit that for a man of a certain age, he looks physically fit and curiously hot! But other than this, there is nothing much left to be admired of his performance, nor from the other actors for that matter, nor the charmless writing of this dark comedy billed as "a dark, dirty and dangerous play".

Unless you're a die-hard fan of Scott Bakula, or gagging to see him shirtless and hot in those summer shorts, it would be a terrible advise to recommend watching this play.

Yours,

La Dolce Vita

The Faith Machine: BIG, BOLD, and LONG

Dear Bitches,

Don’t we like ‘em big, bold, and long?  So let's laud Alexi Kaye Campbell for his play The Faith Machine, and the Royal Court Theatre for commissioning it, as that’s exactly what The Faith Machine delivers.

BIG – as in asking the big questions of our day.  The play's actions swings between Greece and New York, but intellectually, it is set on the crossroad of Faith and the Free Market, where stands the court of human conscience.

The play opens in the sleek Manhattan apartment of Tom, an ad executive about to take on Fletcher, a pharmaceutical firm that will be his biggest account yet.  Sophie, his fiancé and an idealistic Englishwoman, is forcing him to make a moral choice:  drop the Fletcher account, which has caused death and grievous harm to the children of Uganda by its experimentation on them, or she walks out of his life.  Tom pleads for her to be realistic about the world they live in.  He reasons that things don’t change overnight, and that the ad job is only until they feel financially secure.

Sophie:  “But the question it’s leading to, the essential question to which I need to know the answer, Tom,…is ‘Who are you?’”

In the next scene, we are transported back to three years earlier in Greece.  Here we are introduced to Sophie’s father, Edward, an Anglican bishop who had just left the church over its inflexible attitude to homosexuality.  Patrick, a Kenyan cleric and friend, is visiting to persuade him not to quit by defending the church’s stance.  Here, we are treated to an engaging debate where both sides of the issue are argued with equal vigour.  The exchange leads one to question, just what is the role of the church?  Is it to act as a moral beacon (and therefore must assume absolute moral superiority), or is it, together with its flock, to discover Truth?

Patrick:  “You fail to understand what we need for the Church to survive is for moderation and gradualism.  If in Africa we follow your ways, within a few years the Anglican Church would be dead and Islam would reign supreme.  And where would that leave the gays, I wonder?”

See what I mean by BIG and BOLD? And that’s just the first act!

The play is LONG, too, clocking in at almost three hours. Normally, I don’t mind long as long as it keeps me engaged and the plot stays focused.  This one did keep me engaged throughout, but it meanders a bit.  I felt Act 2 Scene 2 was not essential to the play.  I brought this up with the playwright during the post-show talk and he knew what I meant.  He agreed that the particular scene dropped the pace dramatically, but different people may take different things from it.

The acting is superb as one can expect from a Royal Court Theatre production.  I especially like Kyle Soller as Tom and Ian McDiarmid as Edward.  The direction is dynamic.  The largeness of the play’s ambition is the star, however.  I suspect many came out of this play asking: in that crossroad where Faith and Free Market meets, where stands the court of human conscience, how much compromise can one make before the spirit is condemned to rot?


Until then, sweet-tarts. Kisses.

Hollie Go-Lightly

Faust opens ROH's 2011/12 season with a bang!

Photo by: Tristram Kenton

Dear fab friends,

How frightening yet exciting to see a one hell of a cast - Angela Gheorghiu, Vittorio Grigolo, Dmitri Hvorostovsky and René Pape- for the Royal Opera House's latest production of Gounod's Faust. Oftentimes, such fabulous line-up could end up disappointing high expectations, but this proved certainly not the case.

Let me start with Vittorio Grigolo in the title role, who is said to be the new white hope among the young Italian tenors. Grigolo indeed oozes with irresistible charm (did I say Gigolo?). Being Faust is vocally demanding, yet Grigolo displayed with eagerness (perhaps too much in some occasions) his powerful middle-voice. Furthermore, he showed an expressive and rejuvenated Faust who's overwhelmed with the thrill, excitement and passion of being young (again).

Angela Gheorghiu plays the beautiful and innocent Marguerite, a role she also played in 2004. To be honest, I had high expectations from the famous Romanian soprano, but this prima donna came not without faults, delivering an underpowered start and sadly faltering in the "Jewel Song" (perhaps she was too distracted by the glittering jewels inside the box?). Thankfully, she recovered and found her ground in the second half. Apart from this, Gheorghiu was sympathetic throughout as Marguerite.

Dmitri Hvorostovsky as Marguerite's brother, Valentin, is a pure delight. His arias are big with precise technical control. Not only has he to sing and act, but danced too in a ballet scene! His death scene is superbly dramatic and gripping.

The most impressive is René Pape as Méphistophéles. His booming bass vocals have demonic powers on their own, so to speak. His presence is not the frightening sort, but enticing and mesmerizing. I particularly liked the part in Scene IV when the “sculpture” in the church turns out to be Méphistophélès himself in a marble-coloured cape.

One thing to note about Gounod's Faust is that this is an opera ballet. Ballet was a compulsory feature of all operas at the Paris Opera between 1830-1870s. It is in the fifth act during the Walpurgis Night that a diabolic ballet ensues. In this production, seductive ballerinas (or "witches") have an orgy with the male patrons of the ballet, a reflection of the sexual temptations between Faust and Marguerite. This effectively adds wit and mockery to the usual decorative divertissement purpose of such ballet scenes in an opera.

I highly recommend this latest production of Gounod's Faust from the Royal Opera House. It's a star-studded cast that contains all elements of a good operatic experience - singing, acting, staging and orchestra. If you don't enjoy this one, then perhaps you haven't got the point of opera at all.

Yours truly,

La Dolce Vita

It takes a Decade

Dear Bitches,

I have wondered how long will it take until artists can freely express themselves about the 9/11 tragedy; when tackling the subject goes beyond the honouring of the heroes.  How long would it take before artists can paint the pictures of 9/11 not in monochromatic black and white, but in shades of grey? With Headlong’s production, Decade, the answer seems to be that – a decade. But just barely. And it might just make sense that the initiative came not from the US, but its cousin across the pond. It is often our siblings, cousins, or best friends that help us to view personal tragedies with a certain distance.

Decade is an ambitious project of director Rupert Goold who, among many other plays, has directed ENRON. "My starting point for this was: 'What would be a boring 9/11 show? And what would be maudlin and tasteless? Don’t do that!'" Director Rupert Goold says in an interview by The Telegraph. His company, Headlong, employed 18 writers and thinkers, American and British, to pen the show. The result is a kaleidoscope of stories, experiences and voices.  There are dances, skits, narration, and audience direct experience.  This kaleidoscope approach probably is the only way to inspect our responses to the events of 9/11.  As the show’s tag line goes:  “Two towers.  Ten years.  Thousands of opinions.”

Headlong chose Commodity Quay for the venue.  I’m sure it’s no happy coincidence that the building, located in St. Katherine Docks, is next to the Tower of London and Tower Bridge (two ‘towers’).  It is also the former home of the London World Trade Centre.

Before entering the venue, the audience is first subjected to an airport-like security check – a reminder of one of the legacies of 9/11, our partial lost of liberty.  Then the audience goes through ‘passport control’ where it is subjected to questioning: what are you doing here, how long are you planning to stay, what is your nationality?  Once satisfied, the officer in charge stamps the ticket and then the audience is led downstairs to the auditorium decked out to look like Windows on the World, the restaurant at the top of the North Tower of the World Trade Center.  The walls are made to look like the windows and views you would have seen from the restaurant. Breakfast menu is on the table.  You won’t be able to eat your breakfast of course.  The first plane hit the North Tower at 8:46 a.m.

There are no mention of planes in the show.  No mention of World Trade Center.  Al Qaeda was mentioned only once and that was when an actor read an excerpt of the speech U.S. President Barack Obama gave to announce the killing of Osama Bin Laden.  Later on, the same actor will recite a transcript of a message left by one of Al Qaeda’s men explaining the reason he believes America deserved 9/11.

The dance choreography is effective.  My favourite is the one where as the dance progressed, clouds of dust accumulate.

Most subtly poignant for me was the part where a young woman goes into an abortion clinic.  As she lies on the operating table, she asked for the nurse to hold her hand.  The nurse told her not to worry, she will always be there.  Then lights flashed, sirens heard, the doctor and the nurse stare at the tv in disbelief and run away, leaving the patient on her own, in a compromising position on the operating table.  Of course what had happened after 9/11 in America is that the voices of the far right had multiplied, gotten stronger and louder.  They are united in their fight against abortion laws in the US and any country the US might choose to give aid. In the States, a woman who’s had a miscarriage can now be taken to court if suspected of being negligent with her pregnancy. Many women feel abandoned by the liberals.

Decade is poignant, powerful, remarkable theatre long on imagination.  See it if you dare, and ready to see it beyond a good vs evil story.


Until then, sweet-tarts. Kisses.

Hollie Go-Lightly

Whatever Happened to Baby Gays?

Dear Bitches,

Whatever happened to our baby gays? You know. The young gays!

When I read that 'Bette & Joan: The Final Curtain' was to have a run in London soon after its Edinburgh Fringe debut, I jumped up with excitement, picked up the phone and texted Dolce.

Over a pre-theatre dinner of pasta and a cute waiter who was sa-shaying it, Dolce asked me, what are we watching? I said, "Bette and Joan." She said, "who are they?"

Gasp! Horrors of horrors! I waved it off and patiently gave a crash-course about these two gay icons while waiting for the bill to arrive.

Then I was with another group of young gays the next day. English roses, these are. I said to them "I saw this great production on Joan and Bette the other night..." Nothing! Blank looks across the settee.

Oh My God!

Now, I am usually on the side that argues there is no such thing as a gay culture. Just because we're gays doesn't mean we have to subscribe to certain ways, traditions, language. We don't all have to love the same things. But shouldn't we at least have history? Shouldn't we at least have knowledge of past gay icons?

So this I say to our young readers. Go and see 'Bette & Joan: The Final Curtain' at the Jackson Lane Theatre in Highgate. You'll have a good evening because it's fabulously camp and funny and you'll get an education out of it. It might help though if you watch first the film Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?

To our readers who may have been around the block a few times, go and see the show because it's funny and fabulously camp and imaginative. The actors are fantastic in their roles and to watch them slowly transform into the characters in 'Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?' is priceless. You will appreciate how the writers have brilliantly infused into the dialogue the famous bitchy quips one has rumoured to have said about the other. You will relish to see again Bette ruthlessly kicking Joan in the head. Several times.

Also, coming out of the play, one is reminded of what true bitchiness is from these grand dames of bitchy. Many people have forgotten what it is to be bitchy and mistake it for mean-spiritedness. Not quite. They're not even in the same pitch. Mean-spiritedness is easy and anyone can do it. All it requires is a black heart. Bitchiness, on the other hand, requires wit, imagination and practice. Black-heartedness not required.


Until next time, sweet-tarts. Kisses,

Hollie Go-Lightly

The Kitchen

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Dear fab friends,

Have you ever wondered what it would be like working in a restaurant kitchen? Or perhaps have personally worked in one, in this life or in the past?

Arnold Wesker's 1959 play "The Kitchen" dramatizes life working in the kitchen of a large London restaurant consisting of 30 staff - cooks, porters and waitresses- of various nationalities. It gives us a glimpse of the drudgery of the work, the highly pressurized environment, and the dreams and frustrations of those in it.

National Theatre's revival of this play by Bijan Sheibani offers an inventive take on this kitchen drama. Rather than dwelling on the inherently dull and mechanical nature of work, Sheibani brilliantly breathed a stylised, balletic choreography of the frenzy actions in the kitchen. Actors move rhythmically, or temporarily freeze, to highlight a particular mood or dialogue. In the height of the maddening rumble of the hectic lunch-time rush-hour, the kitchen is magically transformed into a spectacle of dance.

Critics may argue that such display of theatrical artistry overpowers the serious text and message on the indignity of work and its life-sucking nature. But Sheibani gets this message across alright.

Another strength of this production is the compelling performance of the whole ensemble. One that stands out is Tom Brooke, who plays the highly-spirited German cook who falls in love with the English married waitress. Brooke is mesmerizing throughout.

This is a refreshing production of an otherwise serious material. Definitely worth watching.

Yours,

La Dolce Vita

Ruby Wax - (not) Losing It

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Dear fab friends,

I was engulfed in a roller-coaster of emotions watching the comedienne Ruby Wax show 'Losing It'. In case you don't remember who Ruby Wax is, she made a career from interviewing - with such brashness and rudeness - celebrities such as Imelda Marcos and Pamela Anderson for the BBC. She also made guest appearances in Absolutely Fabulous.

In the first part of the show, Ruby's comedic brilliance showed in her hilarious telling of the conditions that led to her depression, the agonies she had to endure, and her hilarious experiences at the Priory (celebrity rehab). Celebrities, specially faded ones, who bravely and candidly come out in public about their mental illness come a dime a dozen, but to make jokes about it while earning money from it takes a certain kind of bravura. Ruby is joined onstage by her friend Judith Owen who plays melancholic piano music to punctuate each section. Judith to Ruby is like Vonda Sheppard to Ally McBeal.

The second part of the show is a Q&A session with the audience. The dynamics changes at this point and we see Ruby and Judith as advocates in trying to strip out, without being preachy, the stigma often attached to mental illness. It's an illness that anybody can get and is very misunderstood.

This intimate latter part of the show somehow moved me incredibly. I suppose the subject is quite personal to me, and made me more enlightened about it. A comic show with a meaningful twist in the end.

I wish that the show gets to DVD, as it would really be amazing to have this show available to a much wider audience.


Yours,
La Dolce Vita

Broken Glass

Dear fab friends,

Who would have thought that this so very delicate diva friend of yours would venture out to Kilburn just to see an off West End production of the Arthur Miller play "Broken Glass". Where the hell is Kilburn? Honestly, I still don't know where it is exactly.

The later plays of Arthur Miller are generally deemed second-rate to his earlier plays such as All My Sons, Death of a Salesman, or The Crucible. So why venture out to Kilburn's Tricycle Theatre just to see it? Ah, my dear lovelies, but it would be wrong to categorize Broken Glass as second-rate, as I belatedly realized. This is a well-constructed and perplexing play with superb performances from Sir Antony Sher and Tara Fitzgerald. The play revolves around a Jewish couple living in Brooklyn. The wife is suddenly unable to walk after the news of the Kristallnacht - or the Night of Broken Glass - in 1938 when the Nazis in Berlin smashed windows and destroyed Jewish homes and synagogues. Miller cleverly mirrors the two events - how fear can literally cripple lives.

This fab's verdict: Highly Recommended. Do catch this play before the West End transfer. But then again, you might consider catching it in the West End rather than in Kilburn where you might have to walk over broken glass yourselves. Broken Glass will transfer to the Vaudeville in the Strand from September 14 to December 10.


Yours,

La Dolce Vita

Ralph Fiennes in The Tempest

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Dear fab friends,

So the lovely Ms. Hollie Go-Lightly and I went to see Ralph Fiennes in "The Tempest." We were curious how Ralph, having displayed great aplomb at waving a wand as Lord Voldemort, would do as the sorcerer Prospero on stage.

Was he really a magician, btw? Shakespeare's Prospero was an embittered noble, conjurer of spirits, and master manipulator of the elements. Fiennes' Prospero, in full camp mode, voice booming and armed with a wooden staff, was more like Moses high on weed. At some point when the effeminate spirit Ariel divides into three--I wondered if director Trevor Nunn got his cannabis from the coffee shops in Amsterdam.

We were quite impressed with the visual effects and the acrobatic performances were worthy of a Vegas spectacle. At least they kept dear Hollie from snoring this time around. (My dear friend Ms. Patty reminded me of that unfortunate evening three years ago when Hollie slept through almost the entirety of Yasmina Reza's "God of Carnage" also starring Ralph Fiennes.)

That Ralph Fiennes is a seasoned stage actor well versed in Shakespeare is evident. However, Hollie moaned that his phrasing and volume, at times, made him sound like one of the priests from Hollie's childhood up on the pulpit preaching about the dangers of eating less than an hour before taking communion. Among the supporting cast, Nicholas Lyndhurst as the jester Trinculo is worthy of note. As the play is still in previews, we do hope that the other cast members improve further as they settle into their respective roles.

So is this tempest in a teapot worth watching? Let's just say we're glad we've seen Ralph Fiennes and Trevor Nunn's take on one of Shakespeare's last plays. If you fancy the idea of a trippy Ten Commandments cum Cirque du Soleil, then by all means go and see this show!


Yours,

La Dolce Vita

The God of So-so, err Soho

Dear fab friends,

You know how I love the Shakespeare's Globe. It's a unique theatre with a unique space with unique new plays. So I recently ventured out and watched the experimental play 'The God of Soho' by Chris Hannan. There was a bright red neon sign "Heaven" hanging above the stage, and for a second I thought I was Under the Arches. From that moment on I had a feeling it will be camp!

And camp it is indeed! The show opens in heaven with a scene with the gods. The goddess of love, and sex, and beauty is banished to earth, and got mixed up in the lives of the homeless people in Soho. She finds an iconic 1950s Hermes-Kelly bag abandoned on the streets of Soho (what a find!) which contains a very dark secret which then led her to the publicity-hungry celebrity couple in Essex who can only enjoy sex if it involves pain.

The highlight perhaps of the show is the lively song-and-dance number from the cast called: "We are so shit." The audience loved it to bits, but that pretty much sums up the review of the show as well. I suppose the realization that we live in a world that worships sex, fame, brands and success is quite well-meaning, but somehow the script lacks that clarity or deeper insight.

And oh, be warned, there is abundance of naked flesh and fetish gear here (after all, the setting is in Soho!). Imagine my horror when the goddess of love, sex, and beauty stripped fully naked in the final scene! Yes, my dear bitches, her titties and fanny right in front of my face. Gasp!
Still recovering from the shock really.


Yours,

La Dolce Vita

Richard III: Propeller vs Spacey

Photo by Alastair Muir and Manuel Harlan

Dear fab friends,

Perhaps only in London would you see two productions of Richard III running almost at the same time. At first was the all-male Propeller Theatre Company's staging of a Chainsaw Massacre meets Sweeney Todd version of this classic Shakespeare play. This was then shortly followed by the Old Vic's production with Kevin Spacey as lead and Sam Mendes as director.

It is inevitable, as we bitches would naturally do, to compare the two productions. Propeller's production splashed the stage with maximum buckets of blood, evoking the sheer brutality and ruthlessness of Richard III. Old Vic's production is more traditional in terms of sticking closely to the text, but contemporary.

Spacey as Richard III is damn quite exceptional and brilliant, definitely worthy of an Olivier. Richard Clothier, playing Propeller's Richard III, may not be as superb as Spacey, but his performance stands out as the more colorful and enjoyable portrayal.

So which one did I like better? Well then, I say with certainty that Propeller- to me- gave out a more bloody, brutal, inventive, yet funny and exciting production. Having said that, I still heart Kevin Spacey!


Yours,

La Dolce Vita