13 Reasons Why Season 4 - Netflix

Cassette tape reminiscent of season 1

[Spoiler alert!] This season sees 'the gang' racked with guilt over Bryce's murder and their subsequent framing of the conveniently deceased Monty. The secrets and tension are causing them to mistrust each other and crack under the pressure. Especially Clay, who goes full Ginny Weasley being possessed by Tom Riddle's diary and sprays graffiti on school walls, terrifies classmates on a camping trip and sets fire to cars...without any memory of having done so. When his responsibility for these incidents is revealed, it doesn't have as much impact as it was perhaps supposed to because there were big hints that this was the case early on. I thought Clay might have been possessed by Bryce, which would have been an interesting twist.

Clay's breakdown was one major plot line. The other was the parents of Evergreen (is that the name of the town?) spying on their kids and being responsible for the instigation of the school's ridiculously hardcore security measures. I didn't feel strongly about this storyline but did think it deeply unethical for the parents to spy on their offspring to the extent that they did.

The storylines of seasons 1, 2 and 3 rely largely on the use of flashbacks. This was done well in season 1 - the only season based on a book. The flashbacks in season 2 caused the story to become ridiculously convoluted and undermined much of what went on in season 1.

Season 4 was the only one not to use flashbacks. Clay's visits to his psychiatrist constituted one of the alternatives to flashbacks. The other alternative was the Ghostly Visitations. Clay sees and interacts with Monty, Bryce and (deceased) Justin over the course of the season - even Hannah makes a final ghostly appearance despite her having bid farewell to Clay at her funeral in season 2! OK, so Clay is having a mental breakdown and it's manifesting in his seeing ghosts. BUT other characters see the ghosts too! Alex, Jessica and Winston all see and have complex interactions with one ghost or other, which implies that they really aren't just in anyone's imagination - they are real. Here are my issues with the ghostly visitations:

• The ghosts undermine the character development that took place in earlier seasons. Ghost Bryce in season 4 is as much of an asshole as living Bryce is in seasons 1 and 2. In season 3 we see a more sympathetic side to him, so why does he revert to his former nasty self as a ghost in season 4? Surely his redemption was the whole point of season 3?
• One of the main criticisms of season 1 from suicide prevention groups was that it gave teenagers the impression that it was possible to carry on actively influencing other people and situations after death. The show obviously never took that criticism to heart because season 4 is riddled with dead characters influencing people. In the 13 Reasons Why universe, no-one ever dies dies until they have completed all possible unfinished business to their satisfaction.
• And in case anyone responds to the above by saying 'but the ghosts are just in their heads!', then why do the same versions of the ghosts appear in more than one person's imagination?! Nasty Ghost Bryce appears to Clay, Alex and Jessica. 

I was struck by how much Clay and 'the gang' - particularly Clay - get away with at school. They are constantly swearing and shouting at and arguing with teachers. In episode 8 there's a full-blown riot, complete with vandalism, projectile-throwing, fighting and car-burning. I understand that the teaching staff are sympathetic because of what this year group has gone through, but surely it's totally unrealistic for the school to not only not exclude anyone but to allow these pupils to hold their prom shortly after they've literally RIOTED!

The last two episodes are incredibly and unnecessarily slow-moving. In episode 9 we are treated to numerous depressing montages of visitors entering and exiting and sitting in the hospital waiting room to be near Justin in his final days. Episode 10 takes us through their graduation ceremony in what feels like real-time. There were two natural endings in episode 10: one after Alex and Winston's conversation and the other during the post-graduation-ceremony drinks, when the camera focuses on Clay's face, which wears an expression of acceptance and understanding. But no, we have to go through more ghostly visitations and the ceremonial burying of the tapes etc.

Despite the convoluted nature of the second, third and fourth seasons of 13 Reasons Why, I've mostly enjoyed them, although for reasons of artistic integrity I firmly believe they should have stuck to one season  - the one based on the book. I've found all the seasons compelling (season 2 probably the least so), and have felt genuinely invested in the characters - particularly Justin and Jessica. That said, in season 4, I found the last two episodes so dreary and drawn-out that they put me off the whole season to some extent.

And I don't think Justin should have died. It was as though the writers realised that the 'reveals' of Clay as Ginny Weasley and the parents as massive snoops weren't powerful enough, so they had to shoehorn something else in. Why not give us a scare with Justin rather than kill him off? His brush with death could still have had the effect of bringing the other characters closer together.

Hetty Feather - The Final Chapter - CBBC

Foundling Hospital, London, 18th century

I know I said I was going to do another post about Anne with an E, but I decided to do this first. Well, it is another story about a red-haired orphan.

I found Hetty Feather - The Final Chapter lazy from both a historical authenticity and character faithfulness perspective. [When I say character faithfulness, I'm referring to the characterisation in the earlier series, not the books.] It's a children's programme, so some might see it as low hanging fruit. But I don't see why children's programmes should be any less historically accurate than adults', or have less plausible characters.

Much of my ire is focused on the Harriet/Mathias storyline. I know the writers wanted to round off the Hetty Feather oeuvre with a happy reunion involving all 'the gang'. But it didn't make sense. Why would two adventurous young people who weren't well-off want to spend what little money they had on travelling from New York back to England to get married there - when presumably they didn't even have many (if any) family members in England (see 'brought up in Foundling Hospital'). They had friends, but given Victorian working conditions, there was no guarantee that any of their friends would even have got the time off to go to their wedding. Plus, what about their New York friends?Plus, where were they staying in England? Were they living in sin? I get that the writers didn't want to go into detail because it's a children's programme but...it was annoying.

Other things...

• They should have explained Miss Emily's absence. It seemed strange that the eldest daughter wouldn't return to the house after the death of her mother.
• Do Harriet and Mathias want to get married in a chapel because they are non-conformists, or because 'chapel' sounds more old-timey? Methinks the latter because they eventually get married at the Foundling Hospital, which was run by Anglicans. Just say 'church'!!
• Speaking of which, WHY IN BLUE BLAZES are they OK with getting married at the Foundling Hospital? I imagine they have some good memories of the place - it was where they met, after all - but the Hospital did not foster a loving, nurturing environment for its child inhabitants. Hospital life was unvarying, rigid and emotionally cold - as portrayed with some success in the earlier series. Having them want to marry at the Foundling Hospital undermines their struggles as shown in the first three series of this programme. Realistically, Foundling Hospital alumni would want to get married there even less than I would want to get married at my old school. Which is very much NOT AT ALL.
• Also, why can't Harriet and Mathias get married in a chapel church? Why are they refused so many times? Is any reason ever given? 
• Final thing about Harriet and Mathias: aren't they way too young to get married? Yes, I know people used to get married younger in ye olde times. But if they were sensible they would wait until the man had enough money to be able to support a family. Given that foundlings would have left the Hospital at the age of 14 and this takes place three series/years later, that would make them 17. I doubt either Mathias or Gideon had anywhere near enough money to support a family at this point. I also doubt either of them would have been keen to saddle themselves with the responsibility. Or that Harriet or Agnes would be rushing into marriage, given that they both had reasonably satisfying jobs.
• Possibly THE most ridiculous event in this series is Hetty trusting Matron Bottomly and offering to take her in - a propos of absolutely nothing. Hetty is kind-hearted but she's also intelligent and reasonably perceptive. Why would you trust someone who has proved over the course of your entire lifetime to be manipulative and conniving - and who also bears a simmering resentment towards you! I bet Jacqueline Wilson did not approve this. At least give Hetty some kind of reason for trusting Matron, even a flimsy one.
• Hetty allows Matron Bottomly to steal Harriet's ticket back to New York. Does Hetty have Stockholm Syndrome or something?
• I don't buy Sheila agreeing to work at the Foundling Hospital for the same reason that I don't buy any ex-foundling wanting to get married there. I could understand her accepting the job if she had no choice and/or was lacking in confidence. But neither of those is true of Sheila. So why would she want to go back? Did the writers of this series know anything about the Foundling Hospital? Egads.
• I miss the theatre!

photo credit: dvdbramhall via photopin (license)

Anne with an E - Netflix

This is a bit how I imagine P.E.I. to look. Am prob wrong

I was an avid reader of L.M. Montgomery's books growing up. Anne of Green Gables, Emily of New Moon, Magic for Marigold - loved them all. I loved the characters, the descriptions of Prince Edward Island and L.M. Montgomery's capturing of what it's like to be a child with a vivid imagination and how much a vivid imagination can enrich your life.

So I was both excited and apprehensive about Netflix's Anne with an E.

The thing that impresses me most about Anne with an E is the casting and characterisation. The characters based on the book characters are played extremely faithfully to the books - certainly where the plot follows the plot of the books, anyway - particularly Amybeth McNulty as Anne, Geraldine James as Marilla and R.H. Thomson as Matthew. Anne isn't an easy character to play - she needs to be talkative, dramatic, whimsical and optimistic without becoming cringey or irritating. Amybeth McNulty isn't exactly how I pictured Anne, but her portrayal is no less legitimate than the Anne of my imagination. She plays Anne with complete sincerity and embodies her spirit perfectly.

The main issue I have with Anne with an E is the tone. The Anne books aren't relentlessly upbeat - sad things happen in them, the characters develop and grow up - but their general tenor is cheerful and positive. Anne with an E is dark. Bleak. The first season in particular is depressing: Anne suffers from PTSD, her future at the Cuthberts' is uncertain, and there are plenty of miserable orphanage flashbacks. Does anyone actually enjoy the orphanage scenes? Do they add anything? Once it's been established that Anne had a rubbish early life, what's the point in seeing yet more bullying flashbacks? It feels gratuitous. The bleak tone colours even the happier scenes, giving them a feeling of foreboding.

Relatedly: the new storylines. I don't have a problem with adaptations not rigidly adhering to a book's storyline, or the introduction of new characters. I've enjoyed some of the new storylines - Gilbert's friendship with Sebastian; Diana's relationship with Jerry. But some of the new storylines in Anne with an E feel a) unrealistic for the era and shoe-horned in for the sake of trying to make the plot relatable to modern viewers (e.g. Aunt Josephine's turning out to be a lesbian and her lavish party that makes LGBTQIA allies out of the most conventional of the Avonlea teens) and/or b) out of character (e.g. Gilbert becoming a stoker on a ship and delivering a baby at the age of fifteen/sixteen - this was implausible on so many levels. Why would academically-minded Gilbert, whose ambition it is to become a doctor, miss a ton of school by running off to become a ship's stoker?).

Rather than trying to tackle so many big issues - sexism, racism, classism, homophobia, persecution of First Nations peoples - I think they should have focused on a few and covered them in more depth and in a way that more accurately and subtly reflected people's varied attitudes of the era. In Anne with an E characters tend to be divided into 'caricaturistically prejudicial' and 'twenty-first century egalitarian' in their attitudes towards these issues.

Next: Anne with an E Season 3

Swive - Sam Wanamaker Playhouse

Swive was an intense take on the teenage and middle-aged lives of Elizabeth I, depicting the challenges she encountered on her journey towards becoming Queen, and those she faced as Queen - in particular on account of her being a woman.

Elizabeth was played by two actors: Nina Cassells as Princess Elizabeth and Abigail Cruttenden as Queen Elizabeth. There were only four actors in the play and three of them played more than one role. This was particularly impressive of the two women, who played an assortment of very different characters. Abigail Cruttenden played Catherine Parr and Mary I as well as Elizabeth.

Swive presented the teenage Princess Elizabeth as innocent but astute; anxious and highly religious. Her religiousness had an OCD-like quality involving repeating the same prayer over and over again. As Queen, she remained astute and anxious, and had a nervous face-touching tic . She was also formidable and ruthless - she carried out a horrible act that made me lose sympathy for her and which I'm not sure has a basis in reality - no, not ordering the death of Mary Queen of Scots! - something involving a fork. In Swive, Elizabeth is very clear about not ordering her cousin's death.

Elizabeth's aloneness came over strongly - the extent to which she had to figure everything out by herself, and rely on herself alone - especially after the death of her step-mother Catherine Parr, when Elizabeth was fifteen. (Although that relationship had soured somewhat after Catherine's husband's predatory behaviour towards Elizabeth.)

Elizabeth's desire to remain single and inevitable lack of an heir was a major theme. Her argument with Mary I, in which she criticised her half-sister for giving her power away to her husband was one of my favourite scenes. She had to be careful about what she said, given her and Mary's respective positions, but she couldn't resist giving Mary her honest opinion about Mary's marriage, her phantom pregnancy and religious impositions. Another of my favourite scenes was Elizabeth's argument with William Cecil (Michael Gould) about whether she would have the title 'Supreme Head of the Church of England' (her father's title, which she wanted) or 'Supreme Govenor', which she ended up having because it was considered more suitable for a woman.

The lighting - candlelight - was used to good effect in this play - it was made an integral part of the story.

 I felt somewhat short-changed because Swive wasn't a full-length play and I hadn't known this in advance. It was a single act of around an hour and twenty minutes. I felt like I'd only just properly got into it before it was wrenched abruptly from me. My other issue was the occasional jarring insertion of modern language. The characters kept saying 'OK'.

Next: Anne with an E - yes, it's a Netflix series rather than a play. It's going to be a bit like living during the Commonwealth for the foreseeable future theatre-wise.

42nd Street - Upstairs at the Gatehouse

Adorable model of the 42nd Street set

Another tour de force from Ovation, full of amazing tap-dancing, industrial-sized sacks of energy and buckets of joie de vivre. I'm always impressed with the way Ovation manage to scale down massive productions to fit the cosy space of Upstairs at the Gatehouse.

The plot was simple: theatre company plans to put on a new (and regressive) musical Pretty Lady (with an emphasis on youth and beauty) funded by the sugar daddy of the leading lady, Dorothy Brock (Tamsin Dowsett), who can sing well but can't dance. An ingénue who turns up late to the backing dancer audition - Peggy Sawyer (Kate-Anne Fenton) - turns out to be an amazing dancer, so she's taken on. After a falling out with Dorothy, Sugar Daddy pulls out of funding the production. Then Dorothy gets injured and everyone implores Peggy to be the leading lady, which role she eventually accepts.

While the plot was simple, it felt as though different elements had been added to different drafts of the script, and the writers had forgotten to remove parts when making each new draft. It was never clear who the protagonist was or which hinted-at romance was going to blossom. Would Peggy get together with Billy, the sweet, friendly dancer who helped her get into the musical? Or was she going to supplant Dorothy Brock in the affections of Pat Denning, Dorothy's non-sugar-daddy boyfriend? OR was she going to end up with the director, Julian Marsh, with whom she had a Stockholm-Sydrome-esque relationship? As it turned out, no romance developed. Between anyone.

And who was the protagonist? Peggy? Julian Marsh? Billy? Oh, and what was Julian Marsh's mysterious backstory? I'm sure that was spelled out in one draft.

But the songs and dancing more than made up for shortcomings in the plot - and I kind of enjoyed the misleading plotlines, anyway. The songs were catchy and memorable. Kate-Anne Fenton made an endearing Peggy Sawyer. The character could have easily become irritating/sickly, given her extreme humbleness, but in this production she remained likeable throughout. The costumes were excellent. There were loads of costume changes because of the 'show within a show'. I love 1930s fashions. And tap dancing. One of my favourite bits was when the backing dancers all danced to the café.

Next: Swive

Amélie, The Musical - The Other Palace

Poor quality photo of Amélie set

Amélie, The Musical is almost guaranteed to warm the cockles of the hoariest of hearts. I left feeling more tender and compassionate towards my fellow humans than when I'd entered.

Based on the 2001 film, this musical was faithful to the film's look, atmosphere, vibe and storyline. Amélie is the story of an idiosyncratic young woman (I'm trying not to use the word 'quirky') who is inspired following the death of 'Lady Di' (said in a French accent) to carry out small acts of kindness that end up impacting their recipients in significant, positive ways. The musical reminds you of the vulnerability/fragility of humankind and to remember to be aware that other people might have things going on in their lives that you don't know about.

It was in English rather than French but contained liberal sprinklings of French, rendered authentic by the French-Canadian origins of Audrey Brisson, who played the titular eccentric.

The music was similar to Yann Tiersen's film score, and was played by the actors on stage. Each actor played an instrument - including Amélie, who played the piano at one point. The music was made extra impressive by the actors whirling around and singing while playing their assorted violins/accordion/cello (the piano was the only instrument not whirled around, although it did move). The songs weren't particularly memorable, in that I didn't have any of them going around in my head the next day, but they suited the story perfectly. I was engrossed from beginning to end.

My favourite part of the Paris metro-styled set was the circular window (clock?), which doubled up as Amélie's flat, to which she effortlessly ascended via a rope/hoist, which was in keeping with her character. Other highlights/viewpoints:

• The puppet of Amélie as a young child, which depicted scenes from Amélie's early life while the adult Amélie moved in synchronisation with it, was poignant and moving.

• The life-sized gnome gaudily recounting its adventures from its travels around the world was a thing of joy.

• I loved the protectiveness of Amélie's café friends/acquaintances/employer, and their keeness for her to find love.

• I think it's a pity Amélie's mum doesn't get a redemption storyline. Her demise and the manner in which it takes place help to account for Amélie's eccentricity...but the oddness of her parents and upbringing by themselves would be enough to account for that.

Next: 42nd Street

Henry IV Part 1 - Globe Theatre

Globe stage

...the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta

The drama began before the opening lines were spoken. Someone came onto the stage to rapturous applause, only to announce that Michelle Terry, who was supposed to play Hotspur, was ill, so the part of Hotspur was to be played instead by Globe stalwart James Garnon. Who, apparently, had never read Henry IV Part 1, let alone rehearsed the part at all.

How was he going to cope? Would the production bomb? Or would it rise, phoenix-like, from the ashes?

Unsurprisingly, the performance wasn't as polished or as pacy as it would have been had Michelle Terry played Hotspur. Hotspur is supposed to be young, dynamic and intense, with a kind of restless energy, which isn't easy to pull off when you're having to read from a script (and when you're not in the first flush of youth). But James Garnon did a great job, incorporating the script into his performance (e.g. pretending it was a book) rather than pretending it didn't exist, and adding in improvised actions (e.g. gently kicking his wife's bottom - in a humorous way - and playing with a groundling's hair).

Henry IV Part 1 alternates pretty starkly between comedy (featuring Prince Hal, Falstaff and 'the gang') and seriousness (King Henry's camp and Hotspur's camp). I admit I much prefer the comedic bits. My favourite part of the play is the scene in which Hal impersonates his father while Falstaff pretends to be Hal, followed by Falstaff playing the part of Henry IV while Hal plays himself. This scene was made extra funny in this production by Mistress Quickly (Jonathan Broadbent), who watched Falstaff and Hal doing their impressions very intently and seriously, critiquing their performances.

Sarah Amankwah, whose face was incredibly expressive, made an energetic, relatable Hal. Falstaff (Helen Schlesinger) was delightful and entertaining, but a little too energetic and fleet of foot for the character. I liked the fact that Falstaff added 'fat-shamer' to the litany of insults he bestowed on Hal - this play is FULL of fat-shaming, and it was good and funny to see them acknowledge it. I loved Nina Bowers as Poins and Douglas. She and Hal made an excellent doubt act, and watching her fighting as 'the' Douglas was a joy - it was refreshing to see a woman play that kind of part.

Talking of the fighting, they had swords/daggers and everything, but the fighting was 'no contact' - very well-choreographed, though, and just as dramatic as if it had involved contact. I was impressed with James Garnon who must have learnt his fight choreography in a very short time - and his lines for that scene - you can't wield a weapon and hold a script!

Next: I don't know

Ballet Shoes - Peacock Theatre

The titular ballet shoes

Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild is one of my favourite children's books, and I was excited to see this adaptation. I felt that this production, which was performed by the London Children's Ballet (ages 9-16), was conceived, produced and directed by people who really cared about the story and were keen to do it justice. While there were changes made to the plot to shorten it, they definitely managed to keep the spirit of the book.

The music wasn't particularly memorable, apart from the 'Girls and boys go out to play' motif, which cropped up a little too frequently.

• The opening scenes showing Great Uncle Matthew dumping the babies Pauline, Petrova and Posy at his house, to the initial consternation of Nana, were funny and moving. I loved the set for the house, with the big window at the back of the stage and cabinet full of fossils. 

• I loved Amy West's characterisation of Sylvia, the children's adoptive mother. Sylvia is modest and self-effacing, with a big heart and little self-confidence. Without any obvious skills, talents or even interests (apart from her family), she's a character one could easily write off, but Amy West captured her essence perfectly. She made Sylvia a sympathetic, gently dignified, poignant character. The portrayal of Sylvia's relationship with Nana (Honor Dixon) was also beautifully brought to life - it was clear how important each was to the other.

• The introduction to Madame Fidolia's Children's Academy of Dancing and Stage Training was probably my favourite part - it captured the excitement and intensity of drama school life. I loved the 1930s romper suits and all the different classes depicted; tap, ballet, drama, jazz. The scene in which the Fossil sisters have to dance in front of a load of other pupils is one of the most memorable from the book, and the nerve-wrackingness of it (for Petrova, anyway) was conveyed well. I would've liked them to have had to curtsey to 'Madame', though! 

• The characters of Pauline (Stella Chambaud), Petrova (Tilda Marriage Massey) and Posy (Annalise Wainright-Jones) were well-performed - Posy was charismatic and confident; Petrova successfully showed her love of planes and dance awkwardness; and Pauline was suitably determined, big-headed (at the right moments) and into drama. It was interesting to see a character portrayed in a ballet who was supposed to be bad at ballet - but they managed to pull it off.

• They kept the character of Winifred! I love the hapless understudy, Winifred, who was played appropriately plaintively by Lucie Apicella-Howard. The scene in which Pauline's big head threatens to overwhelm the theatrical world when she refuses to fetch her wrap from the stage manager when playing Alice in Alice in Wonderland was, again, faithful to the book, and it was enchanting to see it performed via the medium of dance.

• If I'm being nitpicky, I didn't like Pauline being whisked off by a Hollywood agent on the strength of her performance as a mere fairy in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Peaseblossom is never going to be anyone's make it or break it role.

• Talking of A Midsummer Night's Dream, I really enjoyed the scene they performed from it. I like seeing plays within a play (well, ballet in this case). Beautiful costumes. Titania (Lottie Graham), Oberon (Hugh O'Sullivan) and Puck (Ruben Garcia) were excellent! 

Next: Henry IV Part 1

The Comedy of Errors - Globe Theatre

Bare Globe stage

This was my first visit to see a Shakespeare play at the Globe since the end of Emma Rice's reign of terror.

It was extremely refreshing to enter the hallowed wooden doors after 1.5 hours of queuing and to see...nothing. A basic Globe stage. No added features. No huge lighting rig, no set, as such, no props, not even a build-out! I have nothing against sets, props and build-outs, but after Emma Rice's apparent attempts to completely disguise the Globe or make it into a modern theatre, finding a stripped-back stage was as comforting and restorative as imbibing a strawberry granita on a hot day in Sicily.

The Comedy of Errors is one of my favourite Shakespeare plays. I know it's probably the least intellectual play - but it's so funny! I love the bits where Antipholus of Syracuse goes home with Adriana, who mistakes him for her husband, and Dromio (of Syracuse) stands guard at the house, preventing Antipholus of Ephesus from entering his own home. Dromio's finger acting in this scene through the hole in the door was amusing. In this production I also particularly enjoyed the scene in which the doctor(?) tries to exorcise the Ephesians. It was a nice touch to have Antipholus of Ephesus proficient at karate/some form of martial art. I always like the scene at the end when the two Dromios speak to one another for the first time. It's usually sweet and moving, and it didn't disappoint this time. The poor Dromios are treated very badly; I'm always taken aback by the (albeit comedic) violence meted out towards them.

Observations:

• The music comprised an odd assortment of (mostly percussive?) instruments. Each cast member played an instrument. There was also a song at the beginning of the second act, which was entertaining.
• The first scene could have been performed in a way that made the convoluted story easier to understand. I always find it funny in TCoE the way the audience tries to find stuff to laugh at in the serious first scene before nothing funny has actually happened.
• I felt Antipholus of Syracuse (Colin Campbell) could have paused for longer before certain lines to achieve greater comedic effect. I liked his relationship with 'his' Dromio, and the fact that they were both Irish.
• I loved Dromio of Syracuse (Beau Holland). Cute and adorable. She reminded me a lot of Imogen Doel as Tranio in The Taming of the Shrew (the last Shakepeare play I saw at the Globe, incidentally).
• I found the character of Luciana (Mogali Masuku) to be less irritating in this production than she usually is. 
• The costumes were a kind of modern take on Jacobean clothing. Since most of the actors played more than one character - and they were all musicians, too - they had a 'basic' outfit, which they layered with their costume proper when in character (if that makes sense). They all wore Doc Martens. I hope the Globe still does SOME plays in authentic Elizabethan/Jacobean clothing, but I won't quibble with the costume choices for this one, since TCoE is pretty fantastical.
• It was interesting that Antipholus of Ephesus (Andrius Gaucas) refused to shake hands or show friendliness towards his twin at the end - does that always happen? I can't remember but I don't think so.

So far I am pleased with what I have seen of Michelle Terry's tenure as Artistic Director at the Globe.

Next: Ballet Shoes

Oranges and Ink - Hen and Chickens Theatre

Oranges

This was a two-woman play depicting the friendship between actress, orange-seller and royal mistress Nell Gwyn, and writer and spy Aphra Behn. Nell Gwyn vs Aphra Behn would make a good epic rap battle of history. But not as good as Jane Austen vs Charlotte Brontë.

The Hen and Chickens Theatre was a small theatre at the back of a pub. The intimate setting, 17th century music and audience's close proximity to the action made it easy to imagine one was in the rooms of Nell's house in Pall Mall or Aphra's cramped quarters, lit only by guttering candle. The Restoration era costumes were wonderful.

The first appearance of Nell Gwyn (Sarah Lawrie) struck a certain amount of fear into my heart because I was worried she would conform to the one-dimensional image of bawdy, saucy, self-centred, irritating uber-extrovert (although maybe Nell was like that), but during the course of the hour-long play different sides and shades of her character emerged. I liked Aphra (Claire Louise Amias) from the get-go; more reflective than Nell, she was witty, empathetic and self-reliant, with a performative side to her character. I would have liked to have heard more anecdotes from her life.

The portrayal of Nell and Aphra's friendship was realistic and relatable. It was easy to understand why they got on so well. Humour was an important component of their friendship and they shared a love of 'lampooning' politicians and other well-known figures. Both had experienced hardship, both were ambitious and creative, and both acutely aware of the difficulties women faced in being taken seriously and treated with respect. When they each experienced personal tragedy, the other provided a shoulder to cry on - although, as with most friendships, there were moments when they let each other down and harsh words were exchanged.

I'd be interested to know how much is known about their relationship - were they known to actually be close friends in real life rather than simply acquaintances?

The play was chronological - apart from the final scene - and each scene showed their interactions at key points in their lives. It wasn't always clear how much time had elapsed between each scene, but the fact that the scenes didn't follow closely on from one another time-wise made it more interesting.

Next: The Comedy of Errors

HMS Pinafore - King's Head Theatre

This was a 'boutique' production with only eight cast members. I was concerned it wouldn't have the magnificence of a huge-cast production with a bevy of camp sailors, but it was equally good in its own way. In the intimate setting of the King's Head Theatre, which is at the back of a pub, it was nice to be able to see facial expressions at close quarters. The dearth of cast members also meant that the First Lord of the Admiralty's aunt was represented as a cinerary urn, which made for lots of laughs.

This was my first time seeing HMS Pinafore and I was not disappointed. I found almost all the songs memorable and beautiful or catchy, and preferred the storyline to that of The Mikado, the G&S opera with which I'm most familiar. I enjoyed the nautical setting and references; the love story that crosses the social divide featuring an implausibly eloquent and verbose sailor; the theme of an unqualified person rising to a position of high responsibility...It was extremely funny, and this production added its own witty touches, such as the aforementioned urn, to which Dick Deadeye made romantic overtures at the end; the sun salutation performed by Bobstay first thing in the morning; Dick Deadeye producing a gun when Ralph was contemplating suicide; and the entrance of the 'Monarch of the Sea' in wetsuit and snorkel.

The HMS Pinafore in this production was a submarine rather than a ship, with a shiny, claustrophobia-invoking set that included bunk beds and a periscope. It was set in the 1960s, which seemed an unusual choice for a G&S opera, but I appreciated the 60s dance moves in 'Never mind the why and wherefore'. Most of the costumes, being naval, weren't obviously 60s, but Josephine's two costumes were (they included a mini-skirt and beehive), and Cousin Hebe wore hotpants.

All the cast were excellent, but I would like to extend an honourable mention to: The 'Monarch of the Sea', or First Lord of the Admiralty, Sir Joseph Porter (Joseph Shovelton), who was delightfully Boris Johnsonesque. The deadpan earnestness of Josephine (Alys Roberts) was perfect, and her voice was amazing. I loved the facial expressions and gestures of Little Buttercup (Jennie Jacobs) in 'A many years ago'. And no, I hadn't anticipated the twist at the end.

Next: Oranges and Ink

Don Quixote - Royal Opera House

Statue of Don Quixote

This was, surprisingly, my first time inside the hallowed walls of the Royal Opera House. I liked it, but not as much as the Coliseum.

Don Quixote the ballet is simple story-wise: the titular Don leaves home with the buffoonish Sancho Panza on a quest to do chivalrous deeds in the manner of medieval knights errant. Most of the ballet focuses on the love story between Kitri, the daughter of an innkeeper, and Basilio, an impecunious barber, residents of the village Don Quixote happens upon. Don Quixote eventually manages to get Kitri's disapproving father to bless their match, and happiness ensues.

Yasmine Naghdi and Marcelino Sambé were excellent as Kitri and Basilio - dancing aside (which I certainly can't fault), they had great chemistry and vibrant smiles, and I liked Kitri's poppy-esque costume. The role of Kitri involved more successive pirouettes(?) than I think I've ever seen performed before. Don Quixote (Gary Avis) was a sympathetic character - kind, well-intentioned, prone to delusions - his visions of Dulcinea (Gina Storm-Jensen), his imaginary Lady, were quite moving.

I enjoyed the variety of scenes and sets, including Don Quixote's bedroom and the sun-baked Spanish village where most of the action took place. My favourite bit was Act II, featuring gypsies, Don Quixote mistaking a windmill for a monster, and a dream interlude in a magic garden, presided over by the Queen of the Dryads (Claire Calvert). The gypsy scenes were atmospheric, especially with the flamenco moves around the fire, and the magic garden set was exquisite, with big flowers hanging over the stage and sparkly different coloured tutus worn by the dryads. My second favourite was the wedding scene, because I loved the dancing. In these ballet village scenes I enjoy observing the interactions of the 'village people' (not those village people) while they watch the dancing. There was a couple on a roof terrace overlooking the village square who added a certain je ne sais quois to the proceedings.

The 'villain' of the piece was a big box of tissues brought by the sickly couple next to me. It was positioned in such a way that a sizeable part of it jutted over the edge of the ledge immediately in front of us. We were seated at a right angle to the stage, and the jutting box obscured part of my view, which was already somewhat obscured. I would've said something at the first interval, but thankfully they re-positioned the box themselves. Oh, the trials of the Royal Opera House!

photo credit: Zygia El ingenioso hidalgo don Quixote de la Mancha via photopin (license)

Next: HMS Pinafore

Strike up the Band - Upstairs at the Gatehouse

Lovely CHEESE! 

This was a bizarre show. The premise was unusual, the plot ridiculous and the tone inconsistent. I enjoyed it very much, but can understand why it has been a 'lost' Gershwin musical until now. There were many bemused murmurings at the interval and the murmurers didn't return to see the second act.

Basic plot: Horace J. Fletcher, the owner of a successful cheese factory in America, declares war on Switzerland over a trivial trade issue. Subplot: two (kind of three) love stories. It's set in 1927. There were several references to Donald Trump, whom Fletcher (played by Richard Emerson) resembled uncannily in terms of outlook and attitude. Maybe the plot wasn't that far-fetched after all...😬

One of the reasons why I enjoyed this was because I liked the songs, and the singing was superlative. I could have listened to Charlotte Christensen (Anne Draper) all day long. Her delightfully 20s blue tunic was good too. I also enjoyed the tap dancing joyously executed by Sammy Graham.

The character/performance that 'made' the show was George Spelvin (David Francis), the spy (at least, I think that's what he turned out to be in the denouement). I'm not sure whether it was the script, Francis's characterisation, or both, but the humour he brought was a different kind of humour to the show's dominant punny/word-play humour. It was weirder and more surrealist, and I found it and him laugh out loud funny. His character pretended to be several different people and they were all hilarious.

The tone of this oeuvre was inconsistent. It was 80% comedy - and really, really ridiculous comedy - but some it was supposed to be taken seriously by the audience, namely the burgeoning romance between Joan Fletcher (Beth Burrows) and Jim Townsend (Paul Biggin), and Townsend's various acts of integrity and heroism. But in the context of a risible plot (featuring a spurious cheese-related war fought by employees of a cheese factory, soldiers enjoying said war, yodelling), you couldn't take anything seriously. I have no problem with a ridiculous plot (see: Comedy of Errors, The Mikado) but I do have a problem with jarring, implausible changes in tone.

The bit that came closest to genuine pathos was the scene on the boat returning from Switzerland, in which Fletcher and Mrs Draper (Pippa Winslow) shared mildly affectionate feelings for one another, while struggling with seasickness.

Next: Don Quixote

The Bacchae - Hampstead Parish Church

Ancient Greek sculptured scene apparently featuring Euripedes

It's taken me several weeks to get over this production, hence the delay in the review. This play was one sick puppy. I've managed to erase the content of most of the speeches in the second act from my memory, so I can't discuss them in detail. Just be sure that their subject matter was abhorrent, foul and deeply unpleasant.

A play hailing from ancient Greek times, The Bacchae is structured differently to your average modern play, with ridiculously long speeches and important events happening offstage and then described in said speeches rather than performed in front of the audience. Which was just as well for this disturbing oeuvre.

The Bacchae sees the women of Thebes eschewing their domestic duties and fleeing to the mountains to perform Bacchic rites, having been entranced by the god Dionysus (Matthew Williams). However, Dionysus, while initially coming across as fairly mellow albeit arrogant (especially in comparison to the uptight ruler of Thebes, Pentheus (Nicolas Holzapfel)), turns out to be a violent sociopath, wreaking horrific acts of vengeance on Pentheus and his family.

My highlights:

• The titular Bacchae. There were eight Bacchants who were on stage nearly all the time. The Bacchae were entrancing to watch - while they were a group, I liked the fact that they seemed to have distinctive personalities. For example, they reacted differently when the depths of Dionysus' depravity was revealed. Their interactions with each other - the hair stroking and loving looks and touching - made their ménage seem rather appealing. It was a shame they left Thebes to follow Dionysus rather than found a proto-feminist commune. The song one of them sang was really beautiful and I enjoyed the dancing too. Their movements were very fluid and well-choreographed.

• The barbs exchanged between Dionysus and Pentheus; the former provocatively laid-back and the latter displaying classic Type A personality traits. One felt more sympathetic towards Dionysus at this point but...this was to change.

• Pentheus disguised as a woman. Nuff said.

• The transition from amusement to horror. One minute we were all giggling at Pentheus and his female disguise, the next we were shocked and appalled. Since the horrific acts in question weren't depicted on stage, the person principally responsible for changing the play's and audience's mood was the Messenger (Catherine Martin), who recounted the sorry tale of Pentheus' fate. Her recounting of this story was moving and it completely changed one's feelings towards Pentheus and Dionysus.

• The tragic exchange between Agave, Pentheus' mother (Anna Rolfe), and her father, Cadmus (Simon Malpas). 

The Bacchae was well-paced, and even though I was aware beforehand that the speeches would be really long, they didn't feel long both because they were well-performed and because there were always interesting background happenings to watch, such as the antics of the Bacchae.

I give this production four papier-mâché heads and half a thyrsus out of five.

photo credit: Sebastià Giralt L'escena dóna una màscara a Eurípides davant Dionís, Museu Arqueològic d'Istambul via photopin (license)

Sleeping Beauty - London Coliseum

Alien Sleeping Beauty - nothing like the ballet

This was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. I had high expectations for it but didn't think it would come close to Matthew Bourne's version, which was not only magical and atmospheric but strong on the story-telling front. Bourne's protagonists had definite personalities and relatable, absorbing storylines. The traditional Sleeping Beauty is more a collection of showpiece dances, most of which do nothing to further the plot, and Aurora and the Prince couldn't exactly be mistaken for complex characters.

However, this production reminded me of the amazingness of traditional choreography, and I was blown away by the costumes, sets and atmosphere.

The 'Aurora' for best costume has to go to the Fairy of Benevolence, who wore a cornflower blue tutu with lots of sparkles and a headpiece to which it would be impossible for me to do justice. The only dud costume was that worn by one of the princes in the Rose Adagio, which made him resemble a cross between Oliver Cromwell and a hippy. I liked the fact that the courtiers'/townspeoples' costumes started off as late 17th century and 100 years later they were proper late 18th century Gainsborough-esque outfits. Because this was a fairytale I wasn't sure they would pay such attention to detail. But they did.

Highlights for me:

• The entrance of Carabosse (Fabian Reimair) in a sinister little carriage, accompanied by bald minions
• The Fairies pleading with Carabosse through highly elegant mimes and being rebuffed
• The Garland Waltz, danced by the townspeople
• The Rose Adagio - I'm sure the final part of the music was slower than usual, which made Aurora's (Erina Takahashi's) being on pointe for that length of time even more impressive
• Aurora's 'sleep throes' - so elegant and moving
• The Lilac Fairy (Shiori Kase) casting the spell over the palace that sends its inhabitants to sleep. It was a truly magical moment and the Lilac Fairy's mimes in that scene were exquisite. Exquisite
• The Lilac Fairy entering the forest on board a little SHIP and travelling through the forest on said ship to the accompaniment of smoke
• Basically every scene with the Lilac Fairy, who was my favourite character
• The wedding celebration dances of Aurora and the Prince (Aitor Arrieta) - both solos and pas de deux

It amused me that the Prince hardly had to put any effort into finding and rousing Aurora. Doesn't he at least have to hack away thick and stubborn foliage in the fairytale? In this, the Lilac Fairy does EVERYTHING: takes him through the forest, banishes Carabosse and her minions and even confirms, when the Prince expresses uncertainty, that he needs to kiss Aurora in order to wake her up.

I give this production 4.5 spindle pricks out of  5.

photo credit: the_alien_experience Sleeping Beauty - The Kiss of Life via photopin (license)

Next: The Bacchae

Coraline - Barbican Theatre

Button with needle and thread

Even though I knew this was a Royal Opera production, for some reason I wasn't expecting it to be a proper opera - I'd envisaged it more as a musical. Perhaps because it's a children's story? But it was a proper opera. And it was weird to hear very ordinary lines such as 'I'm bored' sung operatically.

Based on Neil Gaiman's book of the same name, Coraline is an original, fantastical story about a girl who moves house and soon discovers a passage that takes her to a mirror version of the house, inhabited by a set of identical parents (that is, identical to Coraline's real parents, not to each other) with buttons for eyes. It's a disturbing story and my eight-year-old self might have found the opera too scary. Especially the bit with the disembodied hand. The idea of having one's eyes replaced by buttons is also highly discomforting. For me, even just the idea of being alone in a big new house at night is quite scary.

Before the show started we were informed that Kitty Whately, who was playing Coraline's mother/Other Mother, was recovering from illness. I was nervous lest this would become apparent in her performance, but it didn't. She made a creepy, beguiling, terrifying Other Mother and was the most captivating character in the show. It took a while to get used to an adult (Mary Bevan) playing Coraline, but once you did she was relatable and enjoyable to watch.

Coraline was extremely engaging and I was on tenterhooks throughout, despite knowing what happens, having watched the film and listened to the audiobook. I wasn't that keen on the actual music, though - I doubt I'd enjoy listening to it outside the context of the opera - there was no strong melody that I was able to remember afterwards. I found the music didn't vary much from scene to scene, with the slight exception of the scenes with the eccentric neighbours.

One of my favourite scenes was that in which Coraline is kicked out of the house and meets the former child inhabitants of the house and victims of the Other Mother. It was simultaneously moving and funny. I liked that the former child inhabitants were from different eras - Georgian, Victorian and 1970s. The 1970s child's interpretation of the events leading to his entrapment was amusing.

Next: I don't know. Globe?

Satyagraha - London Coliseum

Gandhi-ish figure

There are three elements one can reliably expect from a Philip Glass opera:

1. Repetition

2. Extreme slowness of movement

3. Unpredictability (in areas other than 1. and 2.)

Satyagraha did not disappoint in any of the above, although I admit to feeling a little restless during the last 15 minutes of the 3.5 hour performance when the main motif of the final song was entering its fiftieth repetition. 

Philip Glass operas lull me into a deep meditative, mesmeric state, such that it doesn't hugely matter how much I understand of what's going on. Which was just as well with this one, given that my Sanskrit comprehension is non-existent and we didn't have a programme (they were sold out).

When I say they lull me into a meditative state, I don't mean that my mind is blank, unaffected by the story and music. I found Satyagraha very moving and beautiful, as I did Akhnaten. You can understand the emotions conveyed by the actors and songs even if you can't understand the words.

Satyagraha portrayed Gandhi’s early years in South Africa, tracing the progress of his concept of non-violent protest as a positive force for change. There were a few other visionary characters depicted, including the back of Martin Luther King, who, using very slow, repetitive movements, acted out speaking to an imaginary crowd for about half an hour at the end while Gandhi sang.

One of the visual motifs used throughout was newspapers...words and pictures beamed onto held up newspapers, people reading newspapers, people throwing newspapers, people writhing among newspapers. My favourite scene featured a line of stereotypically Celtic-looking men with fake beards reading newspapers before proceeding to scrunch them up and pelt Gandhi with them, leading to a European woman coming to his defence. And there were amazing papier-mâché giants of different shapes and sizes that came stalking out at one point. Wonderful!

The person who impressed me most was Karen Kamensek, the conductor. The fact that it's humanly possible to successfully conduct a Philip Glass opera - retaining concentration for that length of time, on music with that level of repetitiveness - blows my mind.

Next: Surprise!

Austentatious - Piccadilly Theatre

Pride and Prejudice painted on some form of block

I was expecting to really enjoy this. I mean,

1) I love Jane Austen and am familiar with her works. 

2) I love the concept of a comedic, full-length improvised play in the style of Austen based on a humorous, bastardised Austen book title suggested by an audience member.

3) I have a sense of humour.

So...why didn't I like it?

First, I'll pay tribute to the set and costumes, which were excellent. The set started off as a wooden crate, which fell open when the title for the play had been decided upon, to reveal an impressive Regency drawing room interior. The costumes were all that one could wish for in a Regency-era play. The music, played by two musicians (violin and piano?) was also fitting and added to the humour.

The chosen title for the play was 'Seasoning and Seasonality', and began with one of the gentlemen adding seasoning to a meal. The improvisation was very clever - the cast's ability to craft a multi-layered storyline while constantly coming up with witticisms was impressive.

However, I didn't like it because I'd been expecting it to be set completely in the Regency era, and draw more from Austen novels trope-wise. I'd thought that was the point of it: to perform a comedic, parodic, ridiculous Austen-esque story - set at the time at which Austen's books are set. I'd imagined that was part of the challenge, and would be one of the main sources of humour.

Instead, they did an improvisation in Regency garb, loosely set during the Regency period, with a ton of modern references. Several of the scenes took place in a Lidl supermarket. One of the characters played a cashier. Aldi was also mentioned. There were parts that I found genuinely funny, like the  confusion over the boundaries of the indoor fire, the 'spectacular', and the flashback (all of which would've worked in a more authentically Austen-esque improvisation), but overall, the constant modern references rendered it less creative and clever to me than if they'd stuck to what I'd imagined was the brief. And less funny. But most of the audience seemed to find it hilarious, so I accept I'm an outlier.

Next: Satyagraha

photo credit: steeljam bb Pride and Prejudice Bloomsbury 9497 Back via photopin (license)

Top Hat - Upstairs at the Gatehouse

Fred Astaire, who played Jerry in the film Top Hat

Upstairs at the Gatehouse's front of house nearly refused me entrance. There was some problem with their system, which meant that my name wasn't appearing on their records. I showed them the e-mailed ticket receipt on my phone, but they were determined to find the actual record on their system (which they never found), and insisted that I waited while they checked other peoples' tickets first. As UatG's seating arrangements operate on a first come first served basis, this was irritating. I was finally allowed in, sans apology, and managed to bag a good seat in spite of front of house's best efforts.

Seeing high energy, uber extroverted productions within the close confines of UatG is like watching a musical in your bedroom. You can see (and, in some cases, feel) every bead of sweat, every drop of spittle, every strip of tape holding mics in place on perspiring foreheads. You can't help constantly catching the actors' eyes, so you have to make sure you're always smiling in enjoyment...which generally isn't difficult to do.

This was another show set in the 1930s - 1935, to be precise - complete with art deco set designs. I seem to have seen a lot of 1930s productions at UatG, and will never tire of the costumes and sets. The storyline was simple and highly P.G. Woodhouse-esque, based around a misunderstanding over the identity of the male protagonist, Jerry Travers, on the part of the female protagonist, Dale Tremont, and involving a butler who adopted a number of different disguises. Dale thought Jerry was Horace, the husband of her friend Madge, leading to genuinely laugh out loud moments when Madge appeared to be encouraging Dale to pursue her husband romantically. Joshua Lay, who, incidentally, resembled a younger Daniel Craig, successfully captured the indefatigable exuberance and irritating overconfidence of Jerry Travers. Joanne Clifton, of Strictly Come Dancing fame, was suitably aloof (and rightly so, with Jerry), perplexed and glamorous as Dale. She had some beautiful costumes, including the white swooshy skirt one with (fake?) fur (or was it feathers?).

The humour was quite 'of its era', let me say - apart from the Woodhousian plot/s and wordplay, which were fine, the Madge/Horace plotline involved a lot of somewhat tedious 'isn't marriage awful' banter, and domestic violence against a man was played for laughs...which was discomforting.

The tap dancing was wonderful - I hardly ever see tap, so it was Top Hat's main draw for me. However, while I like seeing these kinds of productions at UatG, I thought, on this occasion, that some of the dancing would've looked better from a distance rather than up close. It amazes me that the front rows of audience manage to walk out without multiple facial injuries every night. Song-wise: it was good to hear familiar songs such as 'Puttin' on the Ritz' and 'Let's Face the Music and Dance' in the context of a show. Not so keen on the yodel-y 'I'm Putting All My Eggs in One Basket', though (not the actors' fault - just don't like the song). The finale/curtain call was one of the best I've ever seen, if not THE best. They did a medley and dance, and the members of the ensemble actually changed outfits JUST FOR THE FINALE. 

Next: Austentatious

photo credit: twm1340 Fred Astaire via photopin (license)

Queen Anne - Theatre Royal Haymarket

Blenheim Palace, gifted to the Churchills by Queen Anne

OK, I know I said my next review would be of GBS classic Pygmalion, but I regret to say I never got round to it.

Unfortunately, I am a flawed human being. And you know who else was a flawed human being? Queen Anne. 

I've felt sympathetic towards Queen Anne for a long time. Whenever she's mentioned it's invariably either in the context of her appearance (omg she was FAT! She was buried in an almost square coffin because she was FAT!) or her seventeen pregnancies, none of which resulted in a child who lived to adulthood. She's treated either as a figure of a fun or a figure of abject tragedy; you rarely hear about her achievements, her views or her personality.

Queen Anne presented her as a multidimensional human (played by Emma Cunliffe), showing her development from an extremely fearful, naive princess, painfully lacking in self-confidence and relying completely on her best friend, the dominant Sarah Churchill (Romola Garai), to a considerably more self-assured, somewhat less naive and still kind and generous Queen. I enjoyed the portrayal of Anne's relationship with her husband. George of Denmark (Hywel Morgan) was depicted as a gentle, benign, simple character, who loved Anne and delighted in playing silly games with Sarah Churchill's young son. As a couple - especially towards the end of George's life, when they were both in ill health - Anne and George contrasted sharply with the glamorous, ambitious, able-bodied Churchills. I felt extremely sympathetic towards the royal couple, as they quietly and tenderly supported each other in their trials.

Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough: another flawed character. More flawed, arguably, than the titular queen. Despite Sarah's manipulative behaviour towards Anne, one couldn't help admiring her vivacity, quick-thinking and determination. And, despite Sarah's protestations to the contrary, one believed the Duke of Marlborough (Chu Omambala) when he insisted that, underneath her artful facade, she genuinely cared about Anne. The relationship between Anne and Sarah and its progression was fascinating and plausible. It was easy for Sarah to take Anne's friendship for granted when Anne was needy and vulnerable and Sarah was so much more capable physically, socially and, as she believed, intellectually. Sarah only realised the value of the friendship when it was too late. I found it refreshing to see a period play about women's friendship that wasn't focussed on women's inferior status in society. Not that there's anything wrong with that focus; it just struck me as unusual that this play didn't have it.

This was a relatively long play (three hours, including interval) but was engaging and thoroughly absorbing. The set was minimal but atmospheric. There were wood-panelled walls, multiple doors and what seemed to be real candles affixed to the walls. Other lighting was low. Costumes! Excellent. Perfect. Hairstyles? Ditto. Appearance of Jonathan Swift, satirist, essayist, political pamphleteer, poet and cleric? Check. Actor who played wise old financial adviser in Poldark? Yes, he was there too, in a vaguely similar role. I highly recommend this play.

Next: I don't know.

photo credit: Feathering the Nest Blenheim Palace via photopin (license)