Some Theatre

My "rest" from theatre seems to have amounted to a month at most - I must learn to take a total sabbatical from such things in future, perhaps.

Nice however to see some other people's shows instead, beginning with Global Warming: The Musical - now there's a title to conjure with. From what the director and others involved in the production were telling me, I was expecting quite cheesy fare, with everything thrown in to do with today's tacky society. What actually turned out was quite a touching and amusing musical satire of a girl band trying to sing their way to the top in a "Save the Planet" song contest (at the "CO2"!) by singing the decidedly unenvironmental song "Let's Heat It Up!" The girls themselves are engaging although a little underconfident in their opening number, and the whole thing has a nice touch of The Goodies-style satire to appeal to family audiences - even if the occasional coarse word slips in.

Whilst the girls are taking care of the music, the adults have some great guest appearances, from the likes of Kevin Topple as a cocky TV director, Scott Sophos as a Karaoke landlord, Val Taylor as the deaf landlady who confuses The Glo Chicks with "The Glue Sticks", and a showstopping number from Adrian Bolton as the "Conscience Cowboy" with his song, "Daddy or Chips".

Happily also, the show and the numbers never overstay their welcome, and Tony Franchi's brand new play makes for a nice, economical evening's entertainment, which, yes, does have something meaningful to say about the environment.

Joseph Andrews on the other hand, for me, rather dragged. Probably, I think, because the interval was chosen a little too late into the proceedings, when I would've liked to have seen the story through to the finish. Though comparable in length to Global Warming: The Musical, Henry Fielding's old warhorse of bawdy humour has been knocking about for centuries, and the Dedham Players decided to spruce it up with some tavern songs, amusing props, and a male narrator (Don Poar) instead of a female one as originally written. Newcomer Daniel Ellis brings the necessary physique and bashfulness to the title role, but his is a part lost amid a whole flurry of colourful characters.

Les Chisnall holds it together in meticulous straight-faced fashion as Parson Adams (whom I didn't realise until later was an older character than the way Les played him), and once again, there are some good cameos from Rachel Culley ("Lady Booby"), Sue Nicholson (her maid "Slipslop"), Paul Reed (too briefly seen at the beginning and belatedly reintroduced in Act II), Brian Butcher and Alan Stock as Laurel & Hardy-style police officers, and a cameo to savour by Annie Simcox as a flirty maid. Nice also to see Will Parrick in a small, comparatively gentler role of a robber, after his skinhead turn in Treatment(qv).

Reasonably fun on the whole, but by half time I felt it was the sort of Dedham play that I'd seen before.

Anyway, I'm off now to help out with Colchester Theatre Group's own summer extravaganza, We Love You Arthur - about that monumentally charismatic figure of romantic magnetism of the 1980s, Arthur Scargill(!?)

Truly, Madly, Cheaply

I went into this programme (shown on BBC Four last weekend) - about the bygone days of some truly STRANGE British films - with some nostalgia, but also a certain amount of trepidation, mainly because of the slightly patronising title. The suggestion seems to be the only films Britain could make were on minuscule budgets and even thinner plots, and grossly inferior to the glossier American product.

There is no mention at all of British Cinema's golden period - the 1940s - when we produced The Third Man, Brief Encounter, Fallen Idol, A Matter of Life and Death, The Thief of Bagdad, Odd Man Out, Oliver Twist, Great Expectations, and so many others (the name Humphrey Jennings ever so briefly creeps in.) I know it's about B-Movies, but some little reference would have helped, to put things in context.

Some of the fare on offer in Matthew Sweet's dissertation are films that would've been best forgotten, whereas other oddities such as Konga (with its climax on Croydon High Street standing in for Westminster) have to be seen to be believed! I confess I've sat through some of these films in my time - films like Beast in the Cellar, Deathline, Fire Maidens from Outer Space (yes - a British film), House of Whipcord, The Man Who Haunted Himself, Night Caller, and indeed, all the Carry On films, were all fairly cheap but cheerful, and with some respectable acting to keep them above water, usually of a much better standard than in American B-Movies.

Sweet's notion seems to be that the second features tell a truer picture of Britain than their more illustrious mainstream counterparts. One such example he refers to is Psychomania - but then, looking back to my old review, I've just realised, there was another film about that era of youthful thuggery: it was called A Clockwork Orange. Too often his assertion seems to be that Britain could only make very cheap B-movies about itself, when there are dozens of shining examples that are not mentioned at all. As an exercise in looking at an alternative British cinema it's all well and good, but then hang on a minute, I hear the name Hammer being mentioned later on - with stuff like The Reptile and Plague of the Zombies - yet no mention of their shining horror classics The Curse of Frankenstein or Dracula, or even such dark, sombre social dramas as The Damned. And The Wicker Man was hardly a B-Movie, just treated that way by its studio, British Lion, who hated it so much.

He also neglects to mention that, thanks to Lottery money, there have been some obscure B-Movie type British films rushed into production in recent years, such as the hideous Sex Lives of the Potato Men; only nowadays, it's next to impossible to get these films shown on British screens at all.

For better or worse.

Oh yes, and I spent much of the programme wondering where that lovely cinema was that he was sitting in, with a 1950s street outside. According to the credits, it's in the Glasgow Transport Museum.

In Memoriam

Colchester is currently awash with floral tributes at the moment. Outside the 2 Para barracks in Mersea Road is a whole garden full of wellwishes from friends and relatives of those lost in Afghanistan - the total from that regiment is now up to 6, making it the town's biggest loss since the Falklands War.

Then also, there is the case of young school leaver Dan Andrew, who was knocked off his bicycle and killed by a speeding driver, on a particularly dangerous stretch of road near the Tesco supermarket in Greenstead. The extent of floral tributes (including football flags and shirts) has even included graffiti written on the bus stop and road signs.

I'm becoming a little wary of such outpourings of emotion. In the latter case, pure and simple vandalism is involved, and as for the military loss, well, it's a very sad state of affairs, to be sure, and a sign that Afghanistan is still a problem far from solved. But soldiers go to work and put their lives on the line in active service, that's part of their job. A respectful Book of Remembrance would convey the grief and the heartache felt by so many people in a much more appropriate way. This after all, is why we have the Service of Remembrance every November.

Excessive amounts of flowers outside barrack fences seem after a while to feel like an anti-military sentiment. On that basis, I'm surprised that those in charge have allowed so many floral tributes to be laid outside their gates. The fashion started of course, with the death of Princess Diana in 1997 - a tragic event indeed, as was the death of Dan Andrew - but all these bereavements, whether soldier or civilian, have surely to be put into perspective.

Treatment

Headgate Theatre. 80m.

A Chelsea skinhead tries to discover his sensitive side.
A deliberately provocative entertainment, which looks annoyingly stylised at first, with opening speeches that seem to exist just for their own sake - but with these talents on display what is on stage is always interesting, if a little full of characters you would cross the street to avoid. It also seems a little puzzling how the heroine could be instantly attracted to such a thug in the first place. The attempt to make skinheads into sympathetic people only goes so far, as the play ends on pretty much the same note as it started.

What fascinated me about the play - uncomfortable as it was - was to wonder how much of the sensitive side of its main character was Will Parrick and how much of it was acting. Will is (if he will pardon me for saying so) an interesting, very non-thuggish young man, brought up in a working class environment, but with quite a well-to-do family (Grandfather promoted from private to officer in WWII), and it is this conflict between working class or a more affluent lifestyle that I sensed in his performance. At various times I was trying to be drawn in, and at other times I was repelled - as the play intends. Not surprisingly, alas, it has struggled to find an audience at the Headgate Theatre.

w: Jonathan Moore.

d: Andrew Hodgson
s: Will Parrick, Charlotte Cocks, Will Hooper, Adam Mumford

Whatever children do, it's always their parents' fault

Exchange I overheard this morning between mother and son going to school:

"MUM, I've lost my P.E. bag!"

"Well I told you to put it in your bag."

"Well I had it in my bag and I TOOK IT OUT and now IT'S NOT THERE!!!"

"Come to the circus!"

Last Sunday week my sister Catherine drove us back home, and following her came a whole convoy of circus vehicles and caravans for the Moscow State Circus, which performed last weekend at our nearby Recreation Ground in Colchester. Sad to say, three days later - yesterday in fact - I watched the vehicles going the other way out of town at the end of the show's run, before I had a chance to go and see it.

Family reunions and other commitments were my excuses for not attending (as well as the cost), but if I'm honest I suppose the reason I never went is the same reason I might have liked to have gone - there aren't any animals doing tricks anymore.

The very valid and truthful argument is that it's cruel to the animals keeping them caged and taught to do tricks outside of their natural environment. But on the other hand, when I think about it, some of those creatures have a greater life expectancy in circuses (or zoos) than they ever would out in the wild.

It harks back to an age when families and children who had never seen such creatures in their life before could see them at close perspective, live in performance. Now we have David Attenborough and Bill Oddie on TV to show us the outdoor wonders of the animal kingdom.

The circus has left town now. I'm sorry I missed it.

Good Things XI

The Lord's Cricket Ground Museum

A bargain £3 admission on match days, and among its many fascinating exhibits is THE Ashes (although in truth from what I saw of them they look in good enough condition to be kept in Australia at the moment.)

Paul Merton's Impro Chums

June 3rd 2008
Corn Exchange, Ipswich

Mick Perrin/Just for Laughs Live. Two Acts (both 60m approx)

The marvellous Mr. Merton, though noted for his satirical appearances on TV's Have I Got News for You, has actually been knocking out improv sketches with his unsung Comedy Store colleagues for over 20 years, long before his sparring days with Angus Deayton and Ian Hislop - the latter was impersonated during the evening by Paul Merton with relish, although only at the instigation of the audience; it's not generally the Comedy Store Players' style to do impersonations, with this notable exception.

The evening's entertainment was, as ever, completely unscripted, although the performers were all clearly very familiar with the overall format of the exercises.

There are some funny moments of spontaneity, although some of the sketches go on for too long, but this is in the nature of the improvisation, and all the performers know how to put it across with humour and pace. All the suggestions for material came from the audience, for the players to work on as best they could. At half-time for instance, we filled in pieces of paper with suggestions for possible scenarios, and one of mine came out of the hat: "Nurses - in Iceland".

Special mention also for Dave King's suggestion of "an icing piping bag", which gave Mr. Merton a particular handful to try and guess what his character's occupation was: a Fishnet-Trenchcoated man who puts Methane into Bubble-wrap using an Icing Piping Bag!

JS

s: Paul Merton, Mike McShane, Lee Simpson, Suki Webster, Richard Vranch.



The "team bus", on a warm evening inside the Corn Exchange.

The Joneses keeping up

Just back this weekend with Dad from a welcome return to Worcester to see some County Championship cricket between Worcestershire and Essex. Along the way it was also an opportunity to meet up with my old friend Bob Cole, and also meet some more friends, who coincidentally happened to be in Birmingham on the Saturday.

Worcester is such a beautiful cricket venue. Looking out over the ground from the main members pavilion is a glorious view of Worcester Cathedral overlooking the River Severn. The place not only is a pleasant venue, one of the best on the county circuit (its Ladies Pavilion cakes are legion), but has become almost near-legendary for its tendency to flood - the groundsman is the only one in Britain that has to keep a rowing boat in his shed! Thankfully this was not necessary on this occasion.

The cricket itself was quite tense and see-saw, with Worcestershire skittled out for 176 on the first day, only to sting Essex back by bowling them out for 116 in their first innings. That they went on to win the game by 74 runs, was due in no small measure to one Simon Jones (MBE), whom 2 years ago was one of the victorious Ashes winning side against Australia (ah, how it empowers me to write those words), and was also the secret weapon in England's arsenal - less celebrated than the likes of Andrew Flintoff or Kevin Pietersen, but no less vital. For those technically minded in the ways of the game, he has the ability to swing the ball both ways unpredictably, and works up a match faster speed than his short bowling action suggests.

Cruelly, for both Jones and England, injury ruled him out a year later from travelling to Australia in defence of the Ashes, where England were thrashed 5-0. But now, Simon Jones is back, and Essex were among the first to be on the receiving end.

After the pulsating pleasure of the cricket, I travelled up the line to the Electric Cinema just outside Birmingham New Street with Bob, where another Jones was making something of a comeback, in the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. My own enthusiasm for this film was at best lukewarm, although I did manage to catch what would probably have been my favourite part - the end title music by John Williams (well, they did open the doors at the end, didn't they!)

It was also a nice opportunity to briefly catch up with some old friends - some of whom I hadn't seen in over 5 years - who were all predictably buoyant and happy having just enjoyed the film.

I returned to Worcester that evening and rejoined Dad at a pleasant guesthouse, "The Gables" on Bromyard Road, so that we were fresh in the morning to watch the conclusion of the cricket on the Sunday. In the morning before breakfast we had a little walk down the road towards the birthplace of Sir Edward Elgar, in the village of Lower Broadheath. Sadly we didn't have enough time to see Elgar's house itself (as time and our breakfast called!), but walking through country that surely was inspiration for Nimrod (which I found myself humming all the way there and back) and others, we got a flavour for "Elgar's country", especially a great view from Crown Lane East looking over the hazy landscape of Worcester that morning.

A Lancaster and Hurricane fly past New Road, whilst Simon Jones (No. 9) bowls to Ravi Bopara

Back at the cricket, and speaking as an Essex follower it was pleasing to see Ravinder Bopara (another England prospect) flying the flag of resistance, but Essex's target of 340 soon became insurmountable once Bopara was dismissed lbw for 84, which we witnessed just before we left at 5.00 to get our train back to London Paddington.

By the time we were out of Worcester and on our way back to Essex, the victory for Worcestershire was sealed, thanks to the wrapping up of the tail-end once again, by that man Simon Jones.

I hope other, more illustrious teams than Essex, are on the further receiving end of his formidable skills in the future.