Not sure what to get for that special person? Thinking of gift vouchers? Wait! Why not just give them the money, and simply tell them which shop to spend it in.
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When I was growing up, there was only one phone in our household … Well, I could go on. But who would believe me? If I went on to describe it as weighing two and a half kilos, wired in, and rented to us by the State-owned post and telephone monopoly people would think I was making it up. So I won’t mention that it didn’t even have a screen, for that would be unimaginable. + - I had never been to Waterside Arts Centre, Sale until last Saturday. On a dark drizzly October evening it’s a sterile sort of place – like an up-market community centre. The clientele were well-groomed theatregoing types. We didn’t fill the auditorium either, so the compere had to work especially hard to warm us all up for the four stand-up comedy acts which followed. The first three were amusing, but the headline act Steve Shanyaski possesses a star quality which had me wheezing with uncontrolled laughter. He’s talented, insightful, self-assured, and definitely worth seeking out. Just remember your inhaler. London’s National Theatre went international last night for a live screening of One Man, Two Guvnors. Manchester’s Cornerhouse joined cinemas in Canada, New Zealand, Estonia, South Africa, Iceland and many other countries in charging people to sit and watch a play being performed somewhere else. Strange idea in the 21st century, really. Television broadcast by satellite from the other side of the globe has become commonplace. So what was it like paying £15 to watch something that wasn’t quite a film, and wasn’t quite like being at a live performance? It did feel a bit detached – almost voyeuristic. We in Manchester were witnessing something, more than directly engaging in the performance. The audience in London applauded but we did not. There was raucous laughter at the NT – and a few muffled guffaws in Manchester. We had a better view than those in the theatre’s cheap seats. The camerawork was sophisticated, mixing close-ups with wide angle views and audience shots. It was not just a static projection of the entire stage as I had feared it might be. We also got a backstage tour in the interval, conducted by Emma Freud. And what of the play itself? A five-star performance from the truly talented James Corden, supported by a very strong cast – including a skiffle band. It’s a farce based on Goldoni’s Servant of Two Masters written in 1743, brought up-to-date (actually to 1963) by Richard Bean. The script is sparkling, the slapstick comedy timed to perfection. I’m really glad I went, and just a bit sorry that I didn’t clap at the end. It transfers to the Adelphi Theatre in London’s West End from 8 November, with the original cast. Go and see it! “I thought only black lads were drug dealers … and Mexicans?” interrupts Galway Garda Sergeant Gerry Boyle as the visiting (black) FBI agent Wendell Everett is delivering his briefing. I groaned as I watched this clip before being persuaded to go along and see The Guard. However, my fear that this would be In the Heat of The Night played for cheap laughs was entirely misplaced. It is a light, whimsical film with an outstanding performance by Brendan Gleeson as the eponymous policeman who has a touch of the Lieutenant Columbo about him – outwardly simple with an underlying depth and intelligence. The villains too are multi-dimensional. Whilst undoubtably ruthless they are also capable of discussing the writings of various philosophers as they drive through the night, and in this I was reminded of some of Vincent and Jules’ conversations in Pulp Fiction. It’s a fantastic, funny debut by writer and director John Michael McDonagh and I look forward to seeing more from him soon. … and many others, when Shôn and I met up again yesterday to reminisce about our working holiday in USA. It has been thirty five years, no less, since we last saw each other. Mary Kay from Cleveland had stumbled across my 1976 diary posts and got in touch last week. This prompted me to find Shôn who is now living less than half an hour from me! It was an almost surreal experience. We were the same people; we shared the same vivid memories of Cleveland and our road trip. Yet we have more than half a lifetime of not knowing each other. Neither of us has entirely escaped the ravages of time, and we are now both clean shaven. So we don’t look the same as those two students way back then. It was nice – a bit like rediscovering an old pair of shoes at the back of the wardrobe. Shoes which are familiar, easy to slip on, yet which feel strange. Comfortable but different. Carol from Cleveland is visiting the UK soon. It would be great if there was a way for the three of us to meet up once more. In the interests of sexual equality the word ‘actress’ has been phased out. One word for one profession. But why didn’t we phase out ‘actor’ instead? I think it’s now time to purge the English language of other gender distinguishing words. Let’s stop saying ‘he’ and ‘she’. Let’s just choose one and dump the other. ‘He gave birth’ sounds strange now, but at one time, so did ‘She is an actor’. Pretentious, bloated, self-indulgent twaddle. Beautifully shot, though. I upgraded to Internet Explorer 9 this morning. It looks nice – lean and uncluttered. A really cool feature is that you can easily open two tabs next to each other. So you can for example highlight a piece of text on a website and drag it into an email you are composing. So far so great! Then I opened up Google Calendar, to receive this message: Your browser does not support all features of Google Calendar. If you are having problems, try Google Chrome. Why have Microsoft made something which doesn’t play nicely with Google Calendar? Or have Google made their Calendar deliberately incompatible with IE9? Whatever the reason, I would like these two internet superpowers to sort it out please. |
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