Sitting here at my desk in the dining room, watching the day disappear and become gloomier and wetter by the minute. The weather is still dismal; cold, bleak and sleety, but there's lovely music on Classic FM and I have a huge mug of Ceylon tea and a piece of freshly-baked Westmoreland Peppercake to hand.
Thursday was the second highlight of last week, after La Boheme on Tuesday. The Boy and I went to see Pinero's 'The Magistrate', broadcast on a live feed from the National Theatre. Imaginative stage set, based on Edwardian pop-up books, strange, slightly menacing chorus and one of those farces that you just know would have been ruined had an amateur drama group been performing it. There's a very fine line, when performing farce, between giving a 'stagy' performance and overacting to a painful degree. It's a very physical play, with lots of jumping about, hiding under tables and behind sofas and the cast were wonderful. The pre-Christmas reviews were slightly on the snotty side, but we really enjoyed it: it was a light, fluffy and amusing confection and perfect for a cold winter evening - especially when accompanied by bags of Revels and a nice hot cup of tea. Here's the link if you want to read about it - http://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/shows/the-magistrate
The National Theatre and Royal Opera House are really pushing the 'live feed' productions at present and that's a perfectly splendid thing. Tickets for the live theatre are expensive even before you factor in train fares or petrol and parking costs. We pay a maximum of £15.00 for our tickets, we can usually get to the cinema by bike for nothing and the large screen experience shows the action of a play or an opera right up close and personal. There is no unheard nuance in the narrative and certainly, seeing the action from the most advantageous camera angles means that nothing is missed in expression or glance. Besides that, we're keen to keep this local cinema active. The owners have done lots of good work recently, renewing seating and sound systems, upgrading the loos and, best of all, returning the larger room downstairs to the decor and colours of its heyday. They've hung original 30s and 40s posters on the walls, advertising what look like terrible B (or even C) movies of the time - all heaving bosoms, Marcel waves and slightly sinister moustaches with improbable backgrounds and CAPITALISED, OVERLY DRAMATIC TEXT WITH VAST EXCLAMATION MARKS. We love going there - not least because to watch a blockbuster film costs a mere £2.50 weekdays and £3.00 at weekends, but because they are LICENCED! Of course, in a situation reminiscent of a film, the evil local council of Bugville want to build a (hiss! BOOOO!) multiplex cinema along the seafront, despite vociferous local opposition. We will do what we can to prevent it, but I'd imagine, like the building of a vast new supermarket recently, it's already a done deal amongst our greasy- palmed local politicians...public consultation my arse...
Here it is, look - it's a sweet place. https://plus.google.com/107507942182834703694/photos?hl=en and it deserves to be saved.
In other news, the Boy spent a large part of Saturday wielding drainrods in the garden. He is my hero, both for saving us heaps of cash and for not giving up against huge...um...'odds'.
My arse indeed :) Nice
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