Tag Archives: west end

Weekend theatre extravaganza

24 Jan

Remember how I said I wanted 2017 to be the year I see more than 9 West End shows? I’m off to a good start.

Last Monday I saw BU21, a play about how six people cope with a [fictional] London terrorist attack. While it was heavy and all too realistic, it was also quite funny. Life (and theatre) isn’t often only comedy or tragedy — as my favorite band Over the Rhine often says, it’s a head-on collision between both.

So I started my week with some “tragedy porn” (as one of the actors described it while breaking the fourth wall), and needed to end it with something a little more fun. One of my friends from university has been working in London for a few months, so I asked her if she wanted to go see School of Rock the musical on Friday. When I explained the concept of day seats to her, she was all in, especially since I volunteered to do the queuing for tickets.

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My first day seat queue of 2017! And it consisted solely of …me. The entire time. When I’m the first to arrive in a day seat queue, two thoughts go through my head: 1. Am I in the right place? Is there some secret side door to the box office where everyone else is queuing? And 2. Ah man, I could have slept another 10 to 40 minutes! It was particularly cold on Friday, too, and my touchscreen gloves were not cooperating with my phone, so I had to alternate between being bored & warm and entertained by my phone & cold. I brought my overnight oats and ate that while watching the workmen load an abundance of god-knows-what into a van right in front of the theatre, while I’m sure they watched me wondering what on earth I was waiting for and what on earth I was eating that was pink. (For the record, raspberry overnight oats.)

A taxi driver pulled up and asked if I was waiting for a taxi. I told him no, I was waiting for tickets. He then informed me that the theatre was closed, as if I hadn’t noticed. I told him I was aware that it was currently closed and that I was waiting for it to open at 10am. I’m sure I would have looked a lot less silly if there were other people queuing with me. But considering how London black cab drivers claim to be experts about the city — way more than Uber drivers, of course! — you’d think they’d know about the concept of day seats. If I were a taxi driver my number one tip for tourists would be theatre day seats (though maybe not, I wouldn’t want the queuing competition!). Finally the box office doors opened and I was able to buy my front row tickets. As annoying as waiting in the cold is, when I’m sitting in the front row knowing I only paid £20 or less, it’s always worth it. My friend and I loved the show. I loved the movie as a kid and it transferred well to a live musical. All the kids actually played the instruments, which was amazing!

At the interval my friend told me she was free the next day, Saturday, so we looked up shows we could see. We settled on The Kite Runner, since they offered day seats. I read the book and saw the movie, so I was curious how they’d adapt the story to the stage.

So the next day I got up and did it again — arrived at the day seat queue too early. At least this time there were three people in front of me, but when we went to pay they all went for the matinee. So at least it meant we got the best front row center seats. Even though I knew the plot and what was coming, the show was heavy. Good, but emotionally draining. So naturally we went for gelato afterward to recoup. And while we hacked on the giant shave-your-own block of dark chocolate, we got a crazy idea.

“Should we see another show tomorrow?” my friend asked.

“I’m always down for another show!” I replied.

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Our options were limited for a Sunday performance, but we settled on Peter Pan Goes Wrong. If it was good enough for Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, it was good enough for us. Plus, tickets were cheap on TodayTix (hooray for not having to get up early to queue!) and we needed to end our crazy weekend of theatre with a comedy. It was a comedy alright, full of slapstick and humor that bordered on cringey, but it was a good time. I’m glad I went with a friend though, as it seemed like a show best enjoyed with company.

So I saw 4 shows over the course of a week. Not a bad way to start the 2017 theatre season. My friend goes back to the US in a couple weeks, but we’re hoping to fit in a couple more shows before she goes. If only we could have some luck with the Aladdin and Dream Girls ticket lotteries!

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.

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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.

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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).

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.

You can’t trust theatre reviews, hand to god

24 Feb

I should know by now to take theatre (and movie) reviews with a grain of salt. A few weeks ago I saw Harold Pinter’s The Homecoming because it got rave reviews and the description sounded interesting. I went home in a funk and didn’t even understand half of it. And then I realized all the shows I haven’t LOVED in London have a common theme: Harold Pinter. First Old Times, then The Homecoming. Then it occurred to me that my high school junior drama class performed a series of short plays that didn’t make sense to half of us, all written by, you guessed it, Harold Pinter. Am I allowed to call myself a theatre fan and not enjoy Pinter?

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You know what I do enjoy though? Foul-mouthed puppets. And that’s what I saw today in Hand to God. It was described as Avenue Q meets The Book Of Mormon, two shows I adored, so I was all in. The New York Times called it “Kinda Sesame St meets The Exorcist” which was true. It’s the story of a Lutheran puppet ministry that goes south when one of the boy’s hand puppets appears to be possessed by the devil. It was certainly raunchy and scandalous, but it was also laugh-out-loud funny (in the literal sense. I laughed out loud multiple times, which I rarely do at the theatre). Naturally it got panned by critics, which may explain how I was able to get such a good seat for such a good price. It’s a shame, but I can’t really complain too much.

If only I had seen it in NYC, where Bob Saget played Pastor Greg. I saw Bob Saget’s stand up show in college and it was so raunchy my first guess was that Saget would somehow be playing the possessed puppet. Though I distinctly remember someone waiting in line for the Saget show all those years ago shouting “Bob Saget is God!” so maybe playing the pastor isn’t too far off.

Winning the Kinky Boots ticket lottery

21 Jan

As much as I love a good day seat queue, I am definitely a fan of the app TodayTix. Yesterday I entered the Kinky Boots ticket lottery with a click of a button while lying in bed, then a couple hours later I got an email that I had won! An A16 (front row center) seat for £25 without standing outside in the cold for hours? I’ll take it!

kinky boots ticket lottery
Since it was a nice sunny day (by winter’s standards), I decided to walk the 3 miles to the theatre (ulterior motive: Fitbit steps!). When I was about 15 minutes away from the theatre, I felt something wet land on my head. “Please be water,” I pleaded to myself, knowing full well that there was no reason for water to be dripping from the sky on a sunny day in a country where people don’t have many window air-conditioner units (and those who do don’t run them in January). I stepped aside and opened my phone’s front-facing camera. Sure enough there was a centimeter-long smidgen of bird poo in my hair. I got out a tissue and tried to remove it, but that’s easier said than done without water or a proper mirror. I power-walked the rest of the way to the theatre and hoped they didn’t refuse me at the door because of their strict no bird poo policy. I made a beeline for the loo and removed the poo as best I could with one-ply toilet paper, water and a comb. The whole time Rodney Ruxin from The League was in my head:

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My high school drama teacher used to say an actor’s job is to make the audience forget that they are sitting in uncomfortable chairs. Kinky Boots was so good it made me forget that I had remnants of bird poo in my hair. I did immediately shower when I got home though. They say getting pooped on by a bird is good luck. Maybe I’d believe that if it happened before I won the ticket lottery!

The smell of wine and Oresteia

22 Oct

I walked into my kitchen tonight and it smelled like wine. This was alarming for two reasons: 1. I don’t have any wine in my kitchen, and 2. I had just gotten back from an outstanding performance of Oresteia, where wine was used throughout and the girl next to me was constantly sipping a glass, so it felt like 4-D smell-o-vision, and now it had somehow followed me back to my kitchen.

oresteia londonOresteia was my 32nd London show (9th this year). It was actually not on my radar until I was queuing for Photograph 51 a few weeks ago and a wise promoter came by and handed out flyers for it, noting that they still had tickets available. This was one of those rare, rare occasions where being handed a flyer on the street actually lead to a purchase. I was intrigued by the photos and reviews of the show, calling it a “once-in-a-lifetime piece of theatre” and “the best show of the year.” Despite studying Latin, ancient Greek and the classics for many years, I’m not strongly drawn to ancient theatre. It always seemed — dare I say — boring. But Oresteia was thoroughly modernized and boy, oh boy was it good. All three and a half hours of it. And the best part was I scored a £15 ticket on LastMinute.com the night before, which meant I did not have to wake up early to queue for a day seat (which would have cost me twice as much, not to mention less sleep). Normally I shy away from online theatre ticket sales because the booking fees are outrageous and the box office is almost always cheaper, but not this time. I’ll have to keep you in mind for next time, LastMinute.com.

Anyway — the wine smell. Once I determined it was not the wrath of Clytemnestra or Orestes clinging to my being, I sniffed around for the culprit. My nose drew me to the fruit bowl. The bananas were giving off a slight “why are you not eating us, we’re gonna be super brown soon” scent, but that wasn’t it. I picked up the pineapple — the pineapple I bought at Aldi on Monday and meant to put in the fridge the next day. There was a white fuzzy mold on the bottom and it was spreading around the skin. In a last ditch attempt to rescue the fruit, I cut it open and ate a small slice. It tasted like wine. I don’t think I’ve ever had pineapple wine (does it exist?) and if I did, I would probably like it. But I did not like this pineapple. I promptly spit it out and reluctantly threw an entire once-good fruit in the garbage. What a waste. Although after watching a father murder his daughter, a wife murder her husband, and a son murder his mother, I guess losing a pineapple doesn’t seem too bad.