theatre – Stuck in a Book

Theatre review: 42nd Street

StuckinaBook All March 31, 2017March 30, 2017theatre 8 Comments

I was in London for a two day conference on International Development (which reminds me that I never got around to telling those who asked more about the last International Development thing I went to – one of these days I’ll write properly about what I’m doing in my new job). I decided the best way to spend the evening would be at the theatre – and so scrolled through the list of things on. My eye was caught by 42^nd Street – since I’d intended to see the film a few years ago (and failed), and owned the screenplay (which I haven’t read). A couple of clicks, and some scouring of theatremonkey.com, and I’d picked my seat.

Before I describe the musical: an anecdote. Off I sauntered, from the place I was staying – the Youth Hostel off Oxford Street, since you ask, and since I’m all glamour all the time – to the Harold Pinter Theatre. It was only about 15 minutes’ walk. I got there a good ten minutes before the musical was due to start… and saw the posters for Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?. It dawned on me, with horror, that I’d gone to the wrong theatre (I’m seeing that play tomorrow). One quick check of Google Maps later, and I realised I was 15 minutes’ walk from the correct theatre (Theatre Royal, Drury Lane)… and only ten minutes before it started. Reader, I ran. I ran all the way, following Google Maps as I ran – and got there with 3 minutes to spare. And – sorry people either side of me – coughed all the way through the first half because I’m so unfit.

But thank goodness I did! Because 42^nd Street is an absolute delight. I loved every moment – infectious, unashamed delight.

The plot is wafer thin. Apparently it’s based on a novel by Bradford Ropes – I can only imagine that the novel is terrible, because the whole plot is basically ‘ingénue comes to Broadway; becomes star’. But that is all you need in a musical. It’s plenty. Throw in an older lead who is reluctant to hand on the baton (played, to my surprise, by Sheena Easton), and it’s all there. Oh, and it’s set in the 1930s, so what’s not to like?

From beginning to end, 42^nd Street is a whirlwind of tap dance, big voices, glittery costumes, and pizzazz. There are so many excellent sets and set changes – my favourite being one where various windows are lit up in sequence as the people leaning out of them sing – and the finale is out of this world. While Sheena Easton is the big name, it’s Clare Halse as Peggy Sawyer (the ingénue) who really takes one’s breath away.

The songs? Well, the only ones I knew were ‘We’re in the Money’ and ‘Keep Young and Beautiful’. There is the issue that, since the characters are rehearsing or performing a separate musical throughout most of the performances, the songs illustrate a plot that we never learn – but if you aren’t hoping that the songs progress the plot, then you can sit back and enjoy how fun they are.

I was there for one of the previews, I believe, but it was already slick and brilliant. I’ve not been to many productions which received standing ovations, but this was one of them – perhaps only the 4^th or 5^th I’ve been part of. Fully deserved – in these fraught times, this is pure, delightful escapism. If you can – go.

A London evening

StuckinaBook All June 26, 2015June 26, 2015Haul, theatre 17 Comments

On Wednesday evening, I made an impromptu trip to London. Not entirely spontaneous, but only planned on Tuesday – when a very persuasive promotional email arrived in my inbox, telling me that tickets for Hay Fever were cut by more than 50%. Having never sat in one of the best seats in the house before, and having intended to go at some point to see the play, I was only a few clicks away from booking my ticket – and only 24 hours away from hopping on the train and heading over to the Duke of York’s.

I got there a bit early and (shock!) bought some books on Charing Cross Road – but, before I get to that, I really loved Hay Fever. It is, perhaps, not one of Noel Coward’s most sophisticated comedies – it is entirely inconsequential, and the plot is haywire (pun intended) – but it was a complete delight. The plot: Judith Bliss (Felicity Kendal) (!) is a recently retired actress and head of a family, which comprises husband David and grown-up children Simon and Sorrell. All of them have independently invited people to stay with them in their country pile, and nobody has informed anybody else… cue all manner of romantic fiascos and familial squabbles. The Bliss family all live extremely heightened lives, responding to everything with self-indulgent drama. They understand and accept each other perfectly, under the fireworks, but the visitors grow alarmed and weary of the whole thing.

The first gasp from the audience was for the beautiful and brilliant set, designed by Peter McKintosh. It’s just the sort of 1920s house I wish I lived in, and one can excuse the unlikelihood at this family living in what is essentially a hallway. After that, we just laughed our way through the play – particularly the performances by the wonderful Felicity Kendal and the equally wonderful Sara Stewart, who played ageing femme fatale Myra Arundel with delectable wit and glorious facial expressions. It also convinced me that paying enough to be able to see the facial expressions might be an investment I should make again…

Anyway, you should go and see it. Tickets are discounted, and it’s extremely funny.

And those books I bought? Here they are…

I always pop into Any Amount of Books and Henry Pordes Books, the only secondhand bookshops on/around Charing Cross Road which are affordable (although one of these books did come from the £2 table outside an otherwise extremely expensive bookshop on a side street). I’m always amazed by how very rude the man serving in Henry Porde Books is. I’ve been in dozens of times, and every time he treats his customers like inconveniences, snapping and grumping at them. Thankfully his colleague, standing next to him, was all laughs and joviality, which made up for it – though when I laughed along, the grumpy man openly glared at me. Which of these two is Henry Pordes, I wonder? Onto the books, before I’m banned from the shop:

The Night Club by Herbert Jenkins – and I was pondering buying it online only earlier that day! I’m currently listening to The Return of Alfred courtesy of Librivox (more on that soon), so I’m on quite a Jenkins kick.

Celia’s Secret by Michael Frayn and David Burke – an intriguing looking book about research that happened while Frayn was writing Copenhagen, as the result of a mysterious letter being sent to him…

Then There Was Fire by Minou Drouet – I’d never heard of Drouet, but apparently she was a child prodigy poet a few decades ago?

Twentieth Century Literature 1901-1940 by A.C. Ward – Ward wrote a very interesting book on 1920s literature (published just after the fact, in 1930), which helped tremendously with my DPhil – so I’m intrigued to read his wider lens on the first 40 years of the 20th century.

Apostate by Forrest Reid – I know nothing about him, but love these little editions. A bit of digging reveals this to be his autobiography, so I shall doubtless find out more about him when I read it!