Finally business as usual again on the Belgian railways with no train supprimé or similar disasters awaiting me in Welkenraedt. I did however notice soldiers armed to the teeth and plenty police at Bruxelles-Midi, which was both comforting and saddening to see. I also noted that security procedures had increased at the Eurostar Check-in. Ah well, sign of the times and all that I suppose. I got to London and my usual digs in Covent Garden okay and first got buying those Doc Martens out of my system which -someone- had talked me into months ago (and nope, they are no longer being made in dear old Blighty, says Made in Vietnam rather clearly on them). Deciding to wear them straightaway, I promptly got the mother of all blisters the same evening.
First show of the trip was the semi-staged version of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Sunset Boulevard at the English National Opera with Glenn Close as Norma Desmond. Once upon a time I would have had the opportunity to see Ms Close as Norma on Broadway but decided that having seen the show twice in London was enough and instead went to see the fairly abysmal Grease Revival with Brooke Shields. Something I regretted deeply for many years to come, so I was glad to finally see her after all. I also enjoyed the chance to see a new theatre, the magnificent Coliseum in St. Martin's Lane, one of the biggest theatres in the West End and permanent home of ENO (who are strapped of cash and hoping to attract the unwashed masses with some big musical concerts now).
Well, what can I say? Of course it was fabulous to finally see Glenn Close's Norma, but while she did indeed act the shit out of the part, she just isn't a great singer. Quite fortunate (for her) the wildly clapping audience drowned out the end of her big tunes "With One Look" and "As if we never said goodbye" so the missing big final note went almost unnoticed. How wonderfully she acted became most obvious to me when Michael Xavier as Joe Gillis basically threw away his big song "Sunset Boulevard" with no acting whatsoever, just singing prettily. Can't say I was very impressed by him in this (as someone put it so fittingly "too much jazz hands") especially when compared to Glenn Close's fantastic nuanced acting. They were joined by the rather lovely Siobhan Dillon as Betty and Fred Johanson as Max, who looked like he had ambled over from a performance of the Addams Family. Am I glad I went? Oh, of course, it was a great evening and hearing the score playing by the large ENO orchestra was a joy for the ears. But was it the be it and end it of all performances for me? Nope, not really and once was quite enough for me.
Not sure what to do with myself on Friday and still too stingy to fork out for the train to Winchester, I decided that the lovely sunny spring day was a great day to finally trudge out to Kew Gardens, the Royal Botanical Gardens of London near Richmond. And definitely the perfect choice it was with everything still in bloom including the cherry trees and the English bluebells, plus there's really an awful lot to see including Kew Palace where "Mad" King George III. was kept away from the public. So here are a few pix from that lovely outing:
Above the famous palm house (home to palms from all over the world) and a view of the Thames so idyllic and rural here outside town. Below are King George's palace and the beautiful Japanese garden as well as some views on the gorgeous bluebells and cherry blossoms.
I returned in time for my next theatre trip, Doctor Faustus with Jon Snow, er, Kit Harington in the title role. The story of Faust(us) as written by Goethe is one of my favorites in the German literary canon but I dare not go near a production in Germany because it's also one that directors dearly love to mess with. Go figure that Jamie Lloyd decided to have a similiar brainfart along German Regietheater lines for this production of Marlowe's Faustus, transplating it to today's time and Faust seeking fame and celebrity rather than knowledge.
Nudity on stage? Check. Blood and gore on stage? Check. Insanely loud music? Check. Did I have a blast anyway? Check. Okay, let me admit to a bit of fangirling here. I always thought Harington one of the weaker actors on Game of Thrones, wooden and uncharismatic, so I was very curious to see him live on stage and he did not fail to impress me with a very solid performance. And I definitely didn't mind the fact that he spends half the show in nothing but underpants. Or that he climbed up to the stage right in front of my seat so I had his backside almost in my face. But it wasn't just seeing Jon Snow live on stage - everyone else was equally fabulous. Jenna Russell, who I've seen in a couple of "tame" musicals like Guys and Dolls and Urinetown, was a fabulously evil crazy Mephistopheles (who belted out "Bat out of a hell" at the end of the interval) showing a totally different sides of hers. I also liked Jade Anouka's Wagner and Tom Edden's gurning angel.
While I really don't want to see bizarre Regietheater stuff like this all the time, I think the crucial difference to Germany is that here it's exception and not the rule and the critics came down on Lloyd hard for his adaptation, whereas in Germany every directional brainfart is celebrated and the audience mocked and sneered at for their "stupid" wishes to see something normally staged. Besides, at least Lloyd followed a coherent line that in its own way made plenty of sense and has nothing to do with a Hamlet set in a sausage factory or something. So yes, now I need to see a dance-off between Jon Snow and the Night King and Game of Thrones can shut up shop.
Saturday morning I ended up in the Dayseat queue for Mrs Henderson Presents, a new musical based on the movie of the same name, for which I wasn't really ready to fork out full price, then met a dear friend for lunch who had come in for the weekend to see the last three (!) performances of Sunset Boulevard. We parted ways again in St. Martin's Lane, him to the Coliseum, me to the Noel Coward Theatre just half a minute up the street.
Let me begin by saying that I enjoyed the Mrs Henderson movie with Judi Dench a lot and I also enjoyed the cast recording of the musical, so I was rather shocked to hear it was joining the likes of Made in Dagenham, Bend it like Beckham, Stephen Ward and others on a long list of recent flops. If shows like these can't make it whereas a dozen jukebox musicals, compilation shows and endless-runners clog up the theatres, I don't see a vibrant future for the West End. However, having seen the musical, I did see it was quite flawed.
The movie tells the (somewhat true) story of Laura Henderson, an elderly rich widow who decides to spend her husband's money on buying a theatre, the Windmill in Soho. Through the movie we follow her in getting the theatre going, getting one over the competition by having her girls appear as nude tableaux (her argument to the Lord Chamberlain being that while they're not moving they're basically art like any old Greek naked statue) and making it through the Blitz as the only theatre in London that never closed. However the musical takes the focus away from Laura, eliminating her dashed romantic hopes in her producer Vivian van Damme completely, and puts one of her girls, Maureen, into the spotlight. Sadly we don't really care about Maureen, even though Emma Williams was fine and got the best song of the show to sing, "If mountains were easy to climb". Beyond a flimsy love story Maureen just doesn't -have- much of a story and the musical never conveyed (to me) how much of a struggle it all was for the shrewd and sassy Mrs Henderson. The musical also flip-flops between silly comedy and deadly earnest, like when Van Damme (Ian Bartholomew) admits to being Jewish and being worried sick about his family in Nazi-Germany or when the girls later bemoan the death of their soldiers. Tracie Bennett as Laura Henderson should be the heart and soul of the story, but she just isn't and somehow it all falls rather flat for me. As for the nudity on stage about much noise had been made? Well, a) it was very tastefully done and b) if I had a body like Emma Williams, I sure wouldn't mind showing it off either. While I think it didn't deserve to flop as badly as it has, I can see that the show would have needed more work in the book department and frankly, seeing Made in Dagenham flop felt like the bigger loss to me.
There was just enough time for a nice al-fresco dinner of fish and chips and dropping off some shopping at the hotel, then I ventured beyond St Martin's Lane for the first time and across Trafalgar Square to what used to be the Whitehall Theatre and has been turned into the Trafalgar Studios I (the former Dress Circle) and II (the former Stalls). Show for the evening was Jean Genet's play The Maids starring Laura "Lady Edith" Carmichael, Uzo "Crazy Eyes" Aduba and The-Other-One. Ahem. I mostly booked to see Uzo Aduba whose acting on Orange is the new Black I find incredibly fantastic (deservedly winning her an armful of awards) and how often do you get American TV-stars crossing the pond? I also didn't mind seeing Laura Carmichael, the perennial ugly duckling Lady Edith of Downton Abbey after missing out on seeing Michelle Dockery earlier in the year. The third one, Zawe Ashton, I did not know, though watched a few episodes of the TV show that made her famous, Fresh Meat one of these typical British wannabe-dramas about a bunch of young people whose only concerns are sex, drugs and drink. It was directed by Jamie Lloyd (him again!) though this time he didn't bother me much, the only constant annoyance was the ludicrous set that ressembled a huge four-poster-bed with one of the posts almost constantly obstructing my view. The play itself, about two maids plotting to murder their mistress, wasn't much to write home about, especially since they keep slipping in and out of reality and it was hard to keep track on what was what and what happened anyway. Still, I enjoyed seeing these ladies live on stage and Uzo Aduba sure gave a masterclass on how to deliver a spellbinding monologue.
And so my spring outing to London ended and all in all, I have to admit that for all its craziness it was Doctor Faustus that riveted me most by its sheer bonkersness, whereas the rest felt rather tame by comparison. And only two months until I shall be back in the capital to see Harry Potter (the marquee was up already!) and two more fantastic actors "off the telly" at the Donmar. Bring on July!
