The Stratford Effect

All the journey down, I was fine, in a haze of Shakespeare, and Stratford and sunshine. I managed to avoid being grumpy* for most of the afternoon, despite the overwhelming amount of work in front of me, and the constant bombardment of questions. Even yesterday evening, as I finally left work just after 9, I could still feel it hanging around me. The 'Stratford Effect' had restored my sanity for one day in my crazy work schedule, for I could imagine I was back there, in the theatre, in the Pimm’s Garden, or just looking at the river.

But, today, it had gone. I was irritable, and stressed, and babbling. For I’m still working at a distance, despite having had the conversation with my boss nearly six months ago that it needed to end. I think in my heart of hearts, I knew I would still be there, for to walk away just now would be letting people down, and I can’t do it.

So instead I lurch from crisis to crisis, but trying to please everyone, and pleasing no one, least of all myself. I could work 5 days a week there, and it still wouldn’t be done.

So, I need the ‘Stratford Effect’** more than ever, if I’m going to get to the end of September. I also need to have another conversation with my boss!

*believe me, when I am, even I don’t like me!

** The Stratford Effect isn’t just Stratford, it’s any theatre/art/cultural activity.

Sweet Prince

Spoiler alert – if anyone is going to see DT play Hamlet in Stratford, and doesn’t want to know about the production, do not read on.

I went to see David Tennant’s Hamlet in Stratford on Friday. It’s only about 10 months since I booked. I’ve been looking forward to it for so long, it seemed hardly believable that the day had arrived, and now I’m back home, it seems hard to believe that it’s happened.

I’d been a bit worried as the RSC had started to send out emails to ticket holders to tell them how to behave in a theatre and that they could not get any Doctor Who merchandise signed at the stage door. I’d also worried about the ‘Doran’ factor, as he’s never been my favourite director. But we got our frocks out, had a nice meal, and headed down Waterside to the Courtyard Theatre.

Into the auditorium, we were sitting round to the side of the thrust stage, which mean that we lost some of the visual impact of the reflective back drop, but gained in being close to the action.

The production was in modern dress, which for the most part worked well. They did Hamlet’s first entrance incredibly well, for I had feared there might be spontaneous applause, but because he entered as part of a group, for a moment you didn’t see him, and when you did, the action had continued, and the moment passed.

He looked so young, the grief stricken boy, so still in the midst of all the celebration, and literally rocking with grief in ‘Oh that this too too solid flesh would melt’. I loved him in the early part of the play, through the encounter with the Ghost, which clearly unhinged him briefly*.

Yet one or two soliloquies went for very little. Every actor must find it daunting to step onto a stage and start ‘to be, or not to be’, but it was difficult to tell what the intention was here. There were flashes of brilliance about this Hamlet, but there were also significant problems of pacing, and frankly odd cutting decisions.

Sometimes the action would seem to plod along, and then it would pick up speed and go really quickly. I thought DT was excellent in the scene with the players, fast, energetic and thoroughly coherent, and thought the dumb show very effective, and sufficiently different to the play to make me not wonder why Claudius doesn’t react to the dumb show. I absolutely loved how he mouthed ‘his’ speech along with the player, watching the performance, and Claudius’s reaction. And yes, I did love him in tux and bare feet!

Act 1 ended on a cliffhanger, just as Hamlet is about to kill Claudius at prayer. It seemed a brave decision, and was at least different, and made me go ‘gosh, I didn’t expect that’, but, by picking up from exactly the same moment at the start of Act 2, I felt the momentum was lost. It would have been better, as was suggested, to go back to the beginning of the speech – maybe they’ll change it during the previews?

I haven’t said a great deal so far about Patrick Stewart as Claudius, and that’s because I found it a difficult performance to judge. He was beautifully spoken, yet I couldn’t see anything of the political animal, or the ‘smiling damned villain’ about him. I thought Penny Downie was an excellent Gertrude, however. Utterly destroyed by the end. It’s a difficult part as Shakespeare doesn’t really give her the words after the closet scene to show how she responds to Hamlet’s request, so it has to be there in the actor’s performance.

Act 2 felt more disjointed than Act 1, perhaps because Hamlet is off stage for a significant period. ‘How all occasions do inform against me’ (my favourite soliloquy) went for nothing and Hamlet was wearing a frankly hideous costume, where he looked like he’d strayed onto the stage from the local ‘global gathering’ festival, complete with back pack and sleeping bag!

Having kept in the ambassadors to Norway, the production then dispensed with Hamlet’s report of the journey to England, and the attack by pirates, so when we got to ‘Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead’ you didn’t know what had happened to them. Similarly, we got all of Osric (truly, I never realised there was that much to Osric). Having slowed the pace right down again, the production then fairly galloped through the last scene, once again cutting some of Hamlet’s final speeches, and ending on ‘flights of angels sing thee to thy rest’ with Fortinbras standing outside the huge doors.

So, my overall response? It’s a good Hamlet, it will please the million, and hopefully encourage those who are seeing it for the first time to see more Shakespeare. There is nothing to offend (well, maybe the cuts) but there isn’t as yet anything that makes you hold your breath. It will improve if some of the problems of pace and cutting are ironed out. David is a very good Hamlet, with the potential to be a great Hamlet. I look forward to reading the reviews, and seeing it again once it has settled into the repertoire.

Afterwards, we did check out the stage door, but it was crazy. Some people actually squealed at the sight of him, and they had to have barriers in place. I didn’t even try to get to the front, just snapped a couple of photos over others heads. It’s the long game.

* For the record, I don’t like a ‘mad’ Hamlet, but I don’t mind one temporarily unhinged by grief and his encounter with the supernatural.

Summer in Stratford

(with apologies for the lack of ‘holiday blogs’ – I will get back to it, but I’ve been too busy to catch up)

As we sit by the River Avon in the burning sunshine, I comment to Corinne that it’s days like this that I want to bottle, and take out when it’s dark and miserable. Yes, there are a few Stratford chavs around (the sun always brings them out, as it’s too far to go to the coast), but I love summer in Stratford. I know it well enough to get away from the crowds, and I never feel like a tourist.

There have to be few better things in the world than a leisurely boat trip on the Avon, even though the sight of the shell of the RST still gives me a pang. At least now I can see the new theatre starting to rise from the rubble. We pick out the house with the garden running down to the river, we admire the flora and fauna (I like ducks, they don’t look as if they will peck you to death) from a safe distance, and as we sail down past the church, I think of Will, who lies there. It really is my spiritual home.

We discover fabulous little shops, and I spend money on things I don’t need, convincing myself I’m still on holiday.

In the baking sun of the afternoon, the newly discovered Pimm’s Garden of the Dirty Duck is an ideal retreat. We’re not the only ones who think so. Shade is hard to come by, and I eventually resort to using my umbrella as a parasol. We’re a stone’s throw (probably literally, if you lobbed one over the wall) from the Courtyard Theatre, where, in my head at least, David Tennant is at this point receiving notes on last night’s performance of Hamlet*. At this moment, there have to be few better places to be in the world. Good wine, good company, good friends. Heaven.

*of which there is definately more to come

Things I learned about cruising

My recent absence was because I've been on my first ever cruise (well, unless you count the north sea mini cruises, which I don't), round the Western Mediterranean. It's a very different type of holiday, so, before I go into any more detail, here are some of the things I learned.

• It is exhausting - particularly if you're in a new place each day, which we were.


• Despite what people may say, however big the boat is, it will rock


• After about 3 days, it will stop rocking, but the ground will start to rock when you go ashore!


• You will eventually find somewhere to plug in your mobile phone charger, even if it is in the bathroom


• It probably isn't necessary to change the towels 3 times a day


• You will get 'food overload', and yet still feel the need to go to the midnight buffet
• The theme from 'Titanic' probably isn't a good music choice


• You will be photographed at every available opportunity


• It is possible to get lost on a ship, and to forget which deck you are on (or worse, how to get to the bar)

More to follow.

Never say we let reality come into it

In the theatre bar, I’m describing the photo of Gethin from Heat, and Shona poses a question, (for we have, of course, had the obligatory Doctor Who conversation earlier)

‘But, Gethin, or John?’

I think about this.

‘John, he’s funnier’

‘Ah, but John, or David?’

Cat: ‘John’

I have to think about this one. There’s an awful lot to be said for both, but as I consider, there’s really only one choice, (despite the beauty of the Barrowman). He’s skinny, he knows his Shakespeare and he is, according to me at least, officially the best actor on tv.

‘David’

Almost as if we were there

‘I feel as though I should have an inflatable daffodil!’

As the show starts, Cat’s comment sums it up really, for we are at Eurobeat - Almost Eurovision, and we’re in front row seats.

As we’d entered the theatre, we’d been asked to select a badge for our country of choice. I went for Italy*, as I’ll be there next week, Cat opted for Greece**, and Shona went for Estonia, as that’s where she is in her current novel, but felt she got a few odd looks. We then bought the flags of our adopted countries.

Before it begins, we have a video welcome from Sir Terry himself! Our lovely hosts , Sergei and Boyka*** enter, glamorously attired, and the contest begins.

Italy – first up (never a good position, I mutter), but a catchy and memorable little ditty. I cheer very loudly for my country, and wave my flag vigorously. So much so, that at one point, I nearly have Cat’s eye out.

Estonia – 3 boys in suits, though two of them don’t stay in them for long, and we realise why Shona was getting the funny looks. Very funny, very rude and I love it, my favourite of the night.

Iceland – A sub-Bjork singer and song, dressed as a glittery dalek

UK – a Jemini-esque duo (though more tuneful), complete with the Scooch head move that Cat learned last year.

Russia – a boy band in white spandex. No ice skater this time, but a song about an ice queen so it’s almost as good.

Ireland – (Johnny Logan eat your heart out), it’s every Irish ballad that won in the 90’s, complete with singalong ‘la la la’ chorus. As we all get enveloped in dry ice, I’m loving it.

Hungary – the only song in ‘original language’, complete with a performance in national dress

Greece – a homage to Sakis, in that this time the dress comes off. I cheer loudly in support of Cat’s country

Germany – German expressionism at it’s best (!) – mime, a balloon, a bell and a stuffed cat. Pretty similar to some authentic German entries.

Sweden – Abba-esque song about swapping partners. Echoes of Waterloo, but maybe the Abba tribute has been so overdone, there’s not much left to say.

Our hosts return, and tell us how to vote. It should be simple, but I’ve had wine, can’t quite cope with the fact that I’ve left my phone on in a theatre, and have been laughing too much to know what I’m doing. Eventually, with only 20 seconds left, I manage to send a text voting for Estonia, Ireland and Russia. Looking at the audience, I’m thinking that the female singers are going to have a tough time of it! We retire to the bar, more wine, and a giggle over the souvenir programme.

Returning, it’s time for the interval act, all about the wonderful country of Bosnia-Herzegovina, and the voting. We go over ‘live’ to each country, and have the usual spontaneous and witty banter.

Italy is the first to give their results. I can’t believe ‘we’ve’ given top marks to the UK, but my top three have all scored. As voting progresses, it starts to look like Hungary might be left with nul points, so when it receives some, we all cheer. The UK does much better than we ever do in reality, and comes middle table. As we get to the last results, it’s neck and neck between Russia and Estonia. It’s almost more exciting than the real thing! Finally, Estonia are announced as the winners, and the noise is deafening. This means we get a reprise! This time Toomas**** too takes his shirt off.

We leaving singing ‘Together again’, and also ‘Ti Amo’. We cross the road into Starters and Puds (an excellent concept) for a post-show supper. As we look at the wine list the waiter asks, ‘shouldn’t it be Bucks Fizz?’ We like him immediately!

*Yes, I know they left in a sulk a few years ago
**Ah, Sakis
*** Les Dennis and Mel Giedroyc, who frequently have trouble trying not to corpse
**** He has a ‘Vlog’ on the website. I recognise a lot of those stage doors!

'One man, travelling through space and time, in a box’

From: To:

Spoiler alert for Journey’s End, just in case anyone hasn’t watched it yet!

Well. That’s it.

How do I feel about it? Action packed, certainly, emotional, definitely, satisfying, almost. It was full of good ideas, resolutions to plotlines, occasionally too much so for its own good. It was like a finale to all RTD’s storylines, making way for the new regime, so it really was ‘Journey’s End’!

Firstly, the resolution to the cliffhangers. When we left our heroes last week, a number of them were facing certain death. It would be churlish to complain that we still have DT as the Doctor, but the feeding of the regeneration energy into his severed hand*, and the idea that the Doctor could choose not to regenerate did seem to mess with the canon**.

I felt that the closing off of Torchwood was to shut down what was probably a story strand too far (and about a team that, without Jack, many Who viewers aren’t invested in). It’s interesting to see how they’ve set up the new series of Torchwood, though, which just happens to have a couple of vacancies.

The ‘new’ Doctor, and the Doctor-Donna - somehow I didn’t quite believe that Doctor-Donna really understood the techno-babble, though I have no problem when the Doctor launches into it. I was very sad to see Donna turn back into shouty Donna, but it also demonstrated just how much the character had changed for the better, and contrasted with Davros’s claim that the Doctor turns his companions into killers.

The return to Bad Wolf Bay – oh, this was an emotional scene. Rose finally got her Doctor, but she didn’t get her Doctor. It was a resolution of sorts, and the only one possible, but it felt wrong for her to kiss him, (as Billie Piper herself admitted), as she’d really only just met this 'new new new' Doctor. How my heart was breaking as ‘our’ Doctor turned away from them.

I also loved:
The Doctor: ‘I didn’t need to change, I didn’t want to. Why would I? Look at me!’ (absolutely)
the daleks in Germany, ‘exterminiren’! (genius)
Donna to Jack: ‘you can hug me…no, really, you can hug me’ (well, wouldn’t you?)
Davros recognising Sarah-Jane, harking all the way back to Genesis of the Daleks,

K9 popping up to make an appearance.

Everyone together in the Tardis, making sense of the fact that it should really be piloted by 6 people (and Jackie not being allowed to touch anything).

Finally, David Tennant. Seriously, is there a better actor on TV at the moment? He was magnificent, playing all the emotions throughout the episode; his pain when Davros showed him what he’d turned his ‘children of time’ into; making the ‘new’ Doctor a totally different person. ‘Our’ Doctor could never have taken the final step to destroy the daleks***.

I think my heart broke just a little further as he stood in the rain talking to Wilf, and then returned to the Tardis, alone once again. As RTD said in Confidential, ‘you have to come back to one man, travelling through space and time, in a box’.

It seems a long time till Christmas, but thankfully, this time, I don’t have to wait till then.

*despite doing my best to avoid it, I had picked up an internet rumour about this during the week, but then I’d also picked up various rumours about who the new Doctor was going to be!
**yeah, yeah, I know!

***yes, we all know they'll be back again

Hot weather walking

It was hot this week. That might have been summer. If you missed it, it was Tuesday.

We’d decided to go for a walk, a proper one this time, rather than one which turns into shopping, and I’d selected one that we hadn’t done from ‘the book’.

We’d planned to set off about 1, but somehow 1 stretched to 2, and we didn’t actually get to Hovingham and start walking until 3. And we hadn’t even stopped for tea, or at a shop, on the way.

Last weekend in the sales I bought a ‘girlie walking rucksack’. Serious stuff. Anyway, it’s blue with a flowery pattern, and goes well with my V&A William Morris print water bottle* and so I decided to christen it. J was wearing a skirt, and a vest top, to gasps of shock from me and V (whatever the weather, J is always cold!).

We set off, and realised that we had to go uphill, and very heavy going it was in the heat. However when we reached the ridge the view was spectacular, stretching away across poppy fields with the Moors in the distance.

We continued into the woods, to a huge knarled oak tree:

‘It’s like something out of Harry Potter’
‘It’s the whomping oak!’

We walked alongside a stream, (there was mud), we emerged into a field, and I had to take a work phone call, loosing reception as we delved back into the woods again. Emerging from the woods we headed up a valley, but the route didn’t seem right. Heading up to a ridge to get our bearings, we realised we’d missed our turn (which I blame on the instructions not being clear, not our ineptitude). In the top picture, we should have been where the building is!

Rejoining the route, we realised we’d been walking for about an hour and a half, and hadn’t done even half the route. It was very hot, we were running out of water, and V had come out without either sunglasses or suncream. We were clearly not geared up for hot weather walking and we were coming to a point where we could head back to the village, and more importantly, cold beer in the pub.

‘We could do half today, and half another day?’
‘She won’t let us tick it off if we don’t do it all’

I muttered a bit, but eventually admitted I was pretty knackered too, so we cut it short and headed for the pub. We’d still done about 4 miles, but this time the heat defeated us.

*I now also have a V&A William Morris flask to go with it, as a belated birthday present.

Lest we forget...

Amidst all the angst about Doctor Who, it was Cat’s text that alerted me:

‘all your Christmases have come! Heat page 79!’

Although intrigued, I wasn’t about to leave the house to go and find a copy, so I bought it on my journey south yesterday.

I sort of figured it may be Gethin, given I’d complained that Blue Peter wouldn’t allow him to pose with his shirt off. I wasn’t quite prepared for what faced me!

He’s a fine figure of a man (good to see he’s still toned, and still appears to be doing a bit of dancing). Katherine Jenkins is a very lucky lady. Apparently he's doing a new sereis on Virgin1. I think he needs to be a bit more mainstream than that, but hopefully, in time.

And I found his ‘best bits’ from Blue Peter on iPlayer!