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Breaking records and winning the Friday Forty

3 Jul

It’s funny how people always say “I never win anything.” Because none of us win anything, until of course we do, and then we can never say “I never win anything,” because we have won something, but “I only win things occasionally” just doesn’t sound as good.

When it comes to the theatre ticket lottery, I only win occasionally. When TodayTix first launched I won almost every lottery I entered, but that was likely because there were fewer names in the pot. When it first launched I entered the Book of Mormon in-person ticket lottery 10 times and never got lucky. I’ve entered the Dream Girls, Aladdin, and Harry Potter lotteries more times than I can count and I never won. Until now.

From the Harry Potter and the Cursed Child website:
Every Friday at 1pm we release 40 tickets for every performance the following week, for some of the very best seats in the theatre, at an amazingly low price. These tickets are known as ‘The Friday Forty’.

I have a weekly reminder on my phone to apply for the Friday Forty. Not winning has become such a habit that I almost didn’t enter last week — what’s the point? I thought. But since I was home I clicked on the “Buy tickets” button when it appeared promptly at 1pm, then walked away to get dressed for my run. When I came back I noticed the bar with the little wizard at the bottom of the screen was actually moving — I don’t remember it ever doing that before. Then suddenly I was in — it was asking me which dates I wanted to book! I got front row centre tickets for Wednesday’s shows for £20 each. Unbelievable! Wednesday is going to be a long day of theatre — part I at 2pm then part II at 7:30pm. But I’m sure it will be worth it!

friday forty tickets

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child will be my 52nd and 53rd shows in London (it counts as two, right?). That’s right, friends, I did it — I hit 50 shows, and of course I did it with Bat Out Of Hell the Musical. Dare I say it was even more amazing the second time around? Partly because Andrew, the main Strat actor, was born to play the role, and partly because I had a cheeky pre-show glass of wine. (That sounded really British, didn’t it?). Then the day after I saw Bat, I saw Rotterdam, an emotional play that was absolutely nothing like Bat and actually made me a little depressed for the rest of the day, but it was an incredibly moving show about relationships and the struggle of being trans. Rotterdam was my 10th show of the year, which means I finally broke my 9 shows a year record! And it’s only July! I hate the central London traffic and crowds so, so much, but being able to witness world-class theatre regularly makes it all worth it.

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Experiencing Bat Out of Hell the Musical

26 Jun
bat out of hell the musical londonJune 8, 2017.
The lights go out and Strat is standing center stage talking into the microphone.

“I remember everything!” he booms.

“I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday.” My eyes inexplicably begin to water. “I’m here, I’m really here,” I think to myself.

“I was barely seventeen, and I once killed a boy with a Fender guitar.”

OK, I’ve never killed anyone with a Fender guitar, but I do remember every word to Love And Death And An American Guitar, or Wasted Youth as it’s known on Bat Out Of Hell II. When I was barely seventeen I was reading Jim Steinman’s musicals Neverland and The Dream Engine, precursors to the Bat Out Of Hell musical, and downloading every mainstream and obscure song Steinman had ever written. I knew Bat Out Of Hell the Musical was in the works — it has been for 40 years — but I never dreamed Steinman would finish it and it would be performed in the very city I just happened to be living.

But there I was, watching Bat Out Of Hell the Musical unfold from the front row, wearing the Bat Out Of Hell T-shirt I bought on eBay when I was 17. And yet I somehow felt out of place. The women next to me were fully decked out in leather like they literally road in on the motorcycle displayed in the lobby. (A line from The Dream Engine comes to mind. “The revolution likes leather. The revolution wears leather to survive in the streets.”) They were dressed exactly like the members of The Lost wandering about on the stage a few minutes before showtime. My first thought was “Oh god, is this some kind of immersive theater? Am I going to have to interact with them?” (Another line from The Dream Engine: “Quiet. It’s only theater. It’s nothing to be afraid of.”) But no, they were not members of The Lost, just super fans who had seen the show in Manchester and came down to London to see it again. They waved their hands in the air and sang along to every song. Meanwhile I was completely still, “silently shrieking,” feeling every word and note in my heart and on every inch of my skin. (I’m trying to be poetic, but there was a speaker directly in my face. It obstructed my view a tad, but man, could I really feel the songs!). Those who know me are always surprised by my love for all things Jim Steinman and Meat Loaf. Steinman’s songs are about teen lust, going over the top, breaking the rules, and well, murdering people with Fender guitars. At 17 I was a straight A student who was president of the Latin club and played flute at Mass. I had barely slow danced with a boy, Paradise by the Dashboard Light was a completely foreign concept to me. And yet maybe that’s what attracted me to Steinman’s music — it allowed me to escape my top-button buttoned life and wear some auditory leather. (To quote one of his songs: “You’ve been nothing but an angel every day of your life, and now you wonder what it’s like to be damned.”)

The show was everything I could have dreamed it to be. There were certainly elements of Neverland and The Dream Engine in there, but it had been cleaned up and polished for a mainstream audience. The Dream Engine was pretty dark and outrageously sexual. Reading it as a good Catholic school girl was one of the most rebellious things I did back then. I’m not sure I even understood all of it, but I kept going back to it, even plastering lines from it all over my school notebooks. (Lines like: “Reality’s in agony and it’s about time it stopped. It’s about time we put reality out of its misery. And there are only a few of us left with the grace to try euthanasia.”) Even before I saw the show I had a feeling it wouldn’t be one I could see just once (even though my one ticket practically cost more than the 7 other shows I’ve seen this year combined). And when I realized the guy playing Strat was actually the alternate, I knew I had to go again to see the lead (though Ben the alternate was brilliant!). That, and it was the 49th show I’ve seen in London. I couldn’t let just any show be my landmark 50th.

Then like a sinner before the gates of Heaven, I’ll come crawling on back to you…

So I’m seeing it again this week. Front row center this time.

We Are Not Afraid

23 Mar

I was watching a matinee performance of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? when it happened. The brilliant Imelda Staunton as Martha was lambasting her husband for not knowing the origin of the phrase “What a dump!”, while less than a mile away pedestrians were being plowed down on Westminster Bridge and a police officer was stabbed to death. I didn’t find out about it until I turned my phone on during the interval. My dad had texted me to see if I was OK.

“There’s been an attack near Westminster,” someone behind me said.

“Oh dear,” said an older woman. Somehow those two words seemed to convey so much — “I hope everyone is alright. Though I guess it was only a matter of time before we had another terror attack. …I wonder if Martha is really going to cheat on George in the next act?”

Nobody panicked. Some people made calls to loved ones to ensure they were alright, but most people just sat and ate their tiny cups of Häagen-Dazs, waiting for the play to resume.

I admit my first feeling upon hearing of the attack was not that of fear, but of practicality — how was I going to walk home after the show? Would all the roads be closed? I didn’t have any proof of address on me to show the police if my street was barricaded. Would Tesco still be open? I needed to buy some grapes.

When the curtain rose we were once again immersed in the twisted lives of Martha and George and the outside world temporarily didn’t matter. Every once in a while someone’s phone would go off, likely a worried friend or relative trying to check in (who would only grow more worried when the person didn’t respond for two hours). But for the most part, the proverbial show went on.

Afterward I hesitatingly emerged from the theatre, mentally exhausted from essentially watching a couple fight for 3 hours, unsure of what the post-attack atmosphere would be like. The first thing I saw was a couple taking a selfie. As I made my way towards Trafalgar Square, I encountered more tourists cheerily taking photos as if nothing tragic had just happened 3 hours earlier. Past Trafalgar Square all the roads were blocked off by cones, police officers and tape, but pedestrians were allowed through. I popped into Tesco, got my grapes, and went home.

“It’s so quiet out there,” Stephen said when he got home from work. While there was the constant buzz of helicopters overhead, there were no cars, taxis or buses zooming by.

The next morning the streets in Westminster were still closed. I debated whether I wanted to go run — not because I was afraid, but because all the road closures seemed like a hassle — would I be able to get to the park easily? I looked out my window and noticed the police who were previously stopping pedestrians were now letting them through. So I went out. It was eerie seeing major streets without any cars, but aside from the increased police presence, it felt like any other day. The annoying European school groups were out in full force — some of them even mocked me as I ran in place to warm up. I smiled. London was going to be OK.

Rick Steves posted a video from 1990 on his Facebook page that still rings true today.

Europe will always have terrorists. But the chance of being killed in a terrorist attack is still statistically tiny. You shouldn’t cancel your European vacation every time there’s an attack, just like you shouldn’t cancel your flight every time there’s a crash. Of course we should mourn and honour those who were injured and killed in the acts, but we also need to keep living our lives. While #prayforLondon has been trending worldwide, the hashtag that’s been trending in London is #WeAreNotAfraid.

we are not afraid

I’m glad I went out for a run today. It was a beautiful day. But as I was going through Green Park, admiring the fields of daffodils, a piece of a tree branch broke off in the wind and struck me in the neck. If the wind had been stronger and the branch piece sharper, I might have been killed or at least seriously injured. And just like that it all came together: pretty much anything out there can kill you — even Mother Nature herself. But that’s no reason to never leave the house. You have to be smart and alert, but not afraid. There’s so much out there worth living for.

The time I saw Prince Charles, Jesse Eisenberg,Theon Greyjoy and Raj Koothrappali in one day

10 Jun

Things that happened yesterday:

– I carried a banana peel over a mile because there were no trash cans on the street. A couple days ago there was a “What was ruined for everybody by one person?” Ask Reddit thread. What should have been my contribution: easy access to public garbage cans in London. Thanks, people who put bombs in litter bins. (Though I guess technically more than one person ruined it because there were multiple bombing incidents over the years and now *fun fact* the few litter bins in London are actually bomb-proof.)

– I saw Prince Charles! Or rather I saw him drive by… or rather be driven by. I was walked along Wigmore St just north of Oxford St when I heard a policeman on a motorcycle whistle. He stopped traffic and then a Bentley followed by a Range Rover zoomed by. The Bentley’s glass was surprisingly not tinted, but I only got a quick glimpse of an older gentlemen and a chauffeur with a sweet hat. I’m assuming it was Charles (for the sake of a good story), but otherwise it had to have been some important old dude.

– I saw my 40th London show. 40 plays and musicals! Feels like yesterday I was experiencing my first day seat queue. I saw Jesse Eisenberg’s play The Spoils, starring Mark Zuckerberg, Theon Greyjoy and Raj Koothrappali (aka the guy from the Social Network and a crapload of other movies, the guy from Game of Thrones who has it really rough, and the Indian guy from The Big Bang Theory). It got so-so reviews, so obviously I was just seeing it because of the star-studded cast. And they did not disappoint, every one of them was brilliant, especially Alfie Allen. (Holy crap, I just realized his sister is the singer Lily Allen, thanks Wikipedia!). He is an English actor, but was playing an American Wall Street douche, so it was hilarious! The play itself was a bit depressing, but had plenty of laughs. I’d probably give it 3 1/2 out of 5 stars, but would recommend it solely because of the cast. I scored a rush ticket on the Today Tix app, which seems to be quickly replacing my need for day seat queuing. I can’t complain.

the spoils.png

You know nothing, Dr. Faustus

26 May

I can’t believe The Great Walk of London was already a week ago. I was not as sore as I thought I would be on Friday, though I did spend most of the day sedentary catching up on work. I’m lucky that my freelance assignments are due weekly, not daily, so I didn’t have to email my bosses and ask for a day off to walk. I did manage to get 10,000 steps in, because that’s another goal I have this year — walk at least 10,000 steps every single day. I haven’t missed a day yet in 2016, though I did come close the day I flew back to London. I faintly remember waking up and walking around my living room at 11:30pm. Not my proudest of moments.

dr faustus jon snow london.png

But speaking of steps, I got 23,000 today because I walked to Duke of York’s Theatre and back to see Jon Snow — er, Dr. Faustus. I went in with low expectations — the only reason I was even there was because the bad reviews meant I could score a £99 ticket for £29.50. I was front row centre about five rows back. A perfect seat for gazing upon Kit Harington — because let’s be honest, that’s why I (and probably 95% of the audience) was there. I didn’t know anything about Dr. Faustus so I quickly googled the plot line the night before. It was first performed in 1592 so of course it’s in Elizabethan English, though this particular adaptation included some modern scenes (featuring President Obama and referencing a President Trump!). The basic plot is that Dr. Faustus is bored with life so he sells his soul to the devil in return for the ability to perform absolutely anything he pleases with the power of black magic. The only catch is that it’s only for 24 years, after that he’ll be damned to hell. To quote the Jamie Lloyd Company, which put it on, “The story of this 400-year-old play is transported to a celebrity-obsessed society of greed and instant gratification, offering a fresh, new perspective that chimes with our times.”

Kit Harington was brilliant. It took a few minutes for me to see him as Dr. Faustus and not Jon Snow, but he was a believable tortured soul (even if at times his voice sounded eerily similar to Bane from The Dark Knight Rises) . The only problem with having such a big name star in a show is that everyone tries to sneak a photo of him. 5 minutes before showtime he came out on stage and just sat on the bed drooling and staring at the TV. The few times I’ve seen big stars in shows there’s usually a bit of a reaction from the audience the first moment they step on stage. But no one was prepared for it this time because the show hadn’t started. And because it hadn’t technically started, it was a grey area for taking photographs — was it or was it not allowed? I decided to respect the sanctity of live theatre and not snap a photo, but the girl next to me and seemingly everyone around me had their phones out trying to get a shot.

Then suddenly the house lights went down and the show officially began. And right off the bat there was full frontal nudity. Now I’m no prude when it comes to nudity in the theatre, but I couldn’t figure out why these particular chorus members needed to be completely naked. After a few scenes they returned with clothing on. Kit Harington was wearing sweats, though he did spend most of the second half of the show stripped down to blood-soaked skivvies. The few times my mind did start to wander during the show I wondered how uncomfortable that must be and how they wash the blood, dirt and satan diarrhea (yes, that was a thing) off the stage and all the costumes after the show. Does the brain splatter on the wall just easily wipe off before tonight’s evening performance?

As you may have guessed, it was a gruesome show. So much blood!
bloody kit harington
Photo credit

But it had its humorous moments too. It turns out Dr. Faustus’ first name is John. When this was revealed a soft chuckle erupted from the audience since we all know Kit as Jon Snow. During the interval the demon Mephistopheles came out and karaoked and riffed on the audience. All the songs she sang were about hell, obviously, and the biggest smile came over my face when I heard the opening bars to Bat Out of Hell. (I was the biggest Meat Loaf fan in high school.) She absolutely killed it (though at the end when he takes it up an octave she said “F— it, that’s too high!”).

Now the ultimate test of whether it was a good show: Would I have enjoyed it were it a no-name in the title role? I think the answer is yes. Though the material was heavy, I mostly understood what was going on, and the lighting, sound and special effects were amazing. But without Jon Snow, the show would be worth a £10 or £15 ticket, not my maximum £29.50. (Yes, I’ve seen 39 shows in London now and have never paid more than £30 for a ticket).

Eurovision and more in no particular order…

17 May

-I don’t think “wasted” is the right word, so I’ll just say I “spent” 4 hours of my life immersed in Eurovision viewing on Saturday. First I told myself I was just going to watch my favorites, then I was just going to watch all the acts and skip the voting, then I found myself halfway through the jury results and decided I’d turn it off after that since it seemed Australia was a sure thing. I did manage to turn it off and go to bed, only to find myself reading a live blog of the results on The Guardian, so I ran back into the living room and caught the end. Oh, the suspense! Australia won the jury vote, Russia won the popular vote, and yet somehow Ukraine won Eurovision 2016. Russia definitely had the best performance, brilliantly incorporating video and movement, but as someone wrote on the official Eurovision Facebook page, “It’s the Eurovision SONG Contest, not Video Contest.” Touche. I’m still not sure what we’re supposed to be judging them on — song catchiness, vocal talent, cool use of lights and pyrotechnics? All of the above? Based mostly on how good their songs are to run to, my favorites were Austria, Cyprus, Spain, Lithuania and Poland. Although I couldn’t stop thinking about how stupid Donny Montell from Lithuania’s hair looked and it kind of ruined it for me a bit.

lithuania eurovision hair.png

eurovision stupid hair.png

A random Youtube commenter said it best: “Well, apart from looking a Lithuanic Bieber I must admit that the song is good as hell.” To which another random dude replied, “A few years ago he looked like a proper lad on the stage. Been dressing like a teen ever since.” Now I’m gonna imagine that stupid haircut every time I jam to his song.

UK and France also had really good songs, considering they usually have rubbish entries. But enough about Eurovision, my American readers probably have no idea what I’m on about. They’re probably also upset I used the British expression “on about.”

-I ran 8.65 miles today! A new record by .05. Part of me wanted to go further, but my Band-aid on my ankle was starting to fall off and I didn’t want another incident like last week. It seems to be healing though, so hopefully that was just a freak thing and I just won’t wear those thin socks again.

-If the stars align, and it seems like they might, I’m thinking about attempting The Great Walk of London soon. I just checked and apparently I posted about it over a year ago. And yet it never happened last year because the stars never aligned (the stars mainly being my work schedule and the weather). London forecasts are never accurate though, so I might have to wait until the day of before I commit to it.

-I am going to see Jon Snow (Kit Harington) in Dr. Faustus next week! The reviews say it’s rubbish, but I still couldn’t resist. And because the reviews say it’s rubbish, I scored £99 primo tickets for £29.50!

Sweating, running and queueing

6 May

It’s starting, friends. That season when everyone can’t stop talking about how nice the weather is and I can’t stop complaining about being a sweaty mess. Every year it seems my intolerance to heat gets worse and worse. It’s 72 today (22C) and all I did was vacuum my flat and I feel like I’m gonna die. On Wednesday it was 63 (17C) and sunny, which should have been perfect, but I went for a run and could barely survive 4 miles, that horrid combination of sweat and sunscreen dripping into my eyes. Though I’m not sure I can blame the weather entirely for my exhaustion that day. Since Tuesday, the day before, was seemingly the last of the “nice” (by my definition — 50s and slightly overcast) days, I decided to go for a long run. And go for it I did — 8.68 miles, a new personal best distance. I went past Big Ben and then along the Thames. It was glorious and I was feeling surprisingly good. I wasn’t even sore the next day… or so I thought. Note to self: take a rest day after a long run.

In other news…
how is it may already
Even crazier, I can’t believe it’s May and I just waited in my first day seat queue of 2016 yesterday. It’s not because I haven’t been seeing shows this year — today was my 6th — I’ve just been using the TodayTix app or the Internet. But tickets to People, Places and Things were quite pricey on TodayTix and it’s gotten to a point where I can’t properly enjoy a play unless I’m in the front row (and have paid 70% less than the people sitting one row behind me). Plus, I was long overdue for a good day seat queue, so I set my alarm for earlier than I like and packed my laptop and oatmeal in my backpack. It was a pretty uneventful queue — everyone was glued to their phones or books — but I got my front row center seat.

people places and things london

Though I hate the early start, I forgot how enjoyable a day seat day is. I got an unbelievable amount of work done in the cafe then ate some sushi in the park before the show. And the show… if you happen to find yourself in London, go see People, Places and Things. It was the best show I’ve seen in 2016 and definitely ranks amongst the best shows I’ve seen ever. It was such a powerful glimpse into the life of an addict, with just the right amount of humor. Denise Gough wholly deserved her Best Actress Olivier and the use of light and sound was spectacular. I couldn’t stop thinking about the play as I walked home. It’s going to be hard for any show to top that one this year.