Review – Angels In America : A Gay Fantasia on National Themes, Part 2: Perestroika

What to add to our pontifications on Tony Kushner‘s Angels in America Part 1 that we haven’t already mentioned?

That there was a long line to collect tickets as they wouldn’t issue Part 2 tickets when we collected our Part 1 ones (are they doing a Hamilton thing?). That we queued to get into the auditorium as they didn’t open the doors until 7pm for our 7pm performance. That (apart from two intervals) we were in our cheap 4th row cramped budget airline seats for much of the 4 and three-quarter hours. That’s the flying time to Greenland.

Review – Angels In America : A Gay Fantasia on National Themes, Part 1: Millennium Approaches, National Theatre

Over 7 hours, 2 nights and at least 3 intervals (we do not yet know how many Part 2 holds). How terribly indulgent. It’s almost as long as its title. Phil saw the original production of Angels in America at the National back in 1992, yet, still he came back for more.

25 years ago Henry Goodman played closeted Roy Cohn, Trump and McCarthyite attorney, Nixon advisor, Rosenberg prosecutor, and all round shyster-meister. Here the casting coup is Nathan Lane. Mildly ironic that Lane should be taking the Goodman role since Goodman infamously (and briefly) took over from Lane when he left the Broadway run of The Producers.

Review – Once in a Lifetime, Young Vic

If you’re waiting for a review of Nice Fish you’ll have a jolly long wait. Phil was away and sold his tickets to Andrew (What? Did you expect Phil to give them away?) who went with Katy. Both were underwhelmed. The best he could say about it was it was 90 minutes with no interval though even that was too much for people behind him who departed before the end. Bullet dodged.

But, with a busy theatre period ahead (5 shows in 9 days, and Andrew coming along to all but one) what were the chances of being entertained for the second of them, Once in a Lifetime, after the charms of She Loves Me ?

Review – Light Shining in Buckinghamshire, National Theatre

We should have known better.

Andrew was keen to see Light Shining in Buckinghamshire, not for its obvious significance – that it heralds Rufus Norris’ takeover at the National Theatre – but because a) it’s about the English Civil War, b) features one of his favourite actresses, Amanda Lawrence and c) he thought it only fair to give playwright Caryl Churchill a second chance.

The thing is, he had completely forgotten he’d already given Ms Churchill a second chance. He could only remember “the one with the floating sofas” as he succinctly encapsulated Drunk Enough To Say I Love You?  Andrew had clearly expunged The Union’s Cloud Nine from his memory bank with no inconsiderable success.

Review – Damned by Despair, National Theatre

Dear Heavenly Father,

Forgive us our many sins. Forgive us for trespassing on previews and speaking ill of them. Forgive us for drinking too much holy wine. And forgive us for giving into temptation by departing at intervals.

And forgive us for our fundamentalism, believing that if we truly seek forgiveness it may be granted whatever our sins, for surely this is the message of Damned by Despair.

Forgive those who delivered that message: Roman Catholic monk Tirso de Molina who wrote it, Frank McGuinness who gave us his new version and director Bijan Sheibani.

Review – Government Inspector, Young Vic

Yet more arts cuts!

As this man has pointed out, there is a new theatrical trend in town –  culling of definite article.

first victim was Seagull at Arcola) and now  Young Vic wades in with Government Inspector.

It’s a trend that rather suits us as it involves less typing and we hereby embrace it wholeheartedly.

Review – Jiggery Pokery, Battersea Arts Centre

Here’s a brain teaser for you: WEW favourite and Kneehigh regular Amanda Lawrence plays comedy legend Charles Hawtrey (and about 50 other roles besides) in an 80 minute one-woman show. Why on earth would Phil not be there?

Could it be something to do with that old, inconvenient art-holding-a-mirror-up-to-life thing? What could it be that strikes fear into Phil in the true story story of a sad has-been who spends his days pickled in gin, is despised by his neighbours for his drunken foul language, insists on writing cheques to pay for his cab fares while making drunken passes at the cabby and is barred from every public house in the area?

It doesn’t do to dwell on such questions so we shall move swiftly on.