Review – Inherit the Wind – Old Vic (2009)

On Wednesday I went with J and Amy to see Inherit the Wind at the Old Vic Theatre. It had had fairly good reviews since its opening, and though that encouraged me to see it, the fact it was a dyed in the wool “old chestnut” and the rather painful cost of undiscounted tickets made me think that this was going to be yet another show at this venue I took a pass on in favor of a future, more affordable production. But Amy encouraged me, and, well, I’m really not too hard to convince to see a show (unless it’s something yawningly commercial, or an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, in which case I’ll choose reading at home over going out, even for free), plus she found some £15 seats “partially obstructed by a column.” I couldn’t help but think it was Kismet (even though it was actually not a musical at all), so off we trucked to Waterloo via happy hour at Cubana (two mojitos for £4.95, yum!).

The plot of this show is inspired by the Scopes monkey trial, a famous American court case in which a high school teacher was prosecuted under Tennessee state law for the heinous crime of teaching evolution (and out of a biology textbook, too), but with the name of the teacher changed as well as the state and other pertinent details to make it clear it’s merely “inspired” and not “based on.”

It’s billed as a courtroom drama, and much of the best dialogue does take place as arch-conservative and bible thumper Mathew Harrison (David Troughton) attempts to grandstand during his various witness examinations , while defense attorney Henry Drummond (Kevin Spacey) fights back by arguing that the law itself is unjust – not that his client is innocent. In short, it’s “uphold the moral fabric of our society” versus “man must be allowed the freedom to think his own thoughts,” conservatives versus liberals on a stage of their own making, with nary a lick of true concern for the person in danger of imprisonment.

While this revival was done in honor of the 150th anniversary of Darwin’s “Origin of Species,” in fact the core conflict between science and “the beliefs that uphold our social values” has just recently proven itself very much alive with the dismissal of David Nutt for scandalously asserting that alcohol is more dangerous than marijuana (somehow using. science to support his beliefs, rather than toeing the government’s anti-drug line). Will people in power use their efforts to suppress the views of those whose opinions counter their policies even when science backs them up? All I can say is, if he’d been Copernicus, you can damned well bet they’d have been lighting a bonfire to burn him on.

Ahem. Anyway, the story was deliciously topical, but, even better, the story was much more than just two lawyers duking it out; there was also a great underlying conflict between the teacher and his girlfriend Rachel Brown (Sonya Cassidy), the daughter of the town’s preacher. She wants to please her dad, but also wants her boyfriend to just say he was wrong so things can get back to normal. Unfortunately, Cassidy played the role just a bit too hysterically. Where was her arc, where her ups to go with her downs, where her middle? I could sympathize with the point of view she represented – and she did make the townsfolks’ attitudes seem more plausible – but she was just an actress saying lines on stage and never really came to life as the character

To some extent it seems she was taking her cue from Mr. Spacey, as his Henry Drummond was, every limping, shuffling, hunched-over minute, an actor who was playing, not to the back of the stalls, but to some point across the street (possibly La Cubana). I couldn’t figure out why he had to be so heavy-handed – the Old Vic isn’t exactly stadium-sized. Troughton, in comparison, was most perfectly the larger-than-life character that one would expect a washed up, evangelical, former politician (with current political goals) to be – his was a life lived as if on a stage, and his performance perfectly captured the reality of this type of personality. Perhaps Spacey felt the need to upstage him, but his clumsiness failed to hit the mark, and when even the preacher hit his role better, Spacey was left looking like the weakest point in a fairly good evening.

The entire production benefited from a gorgeous, realistic set with amazing depth, and a staging that included piles of Americana – church singing, outdoor suppers, lemonade stands, and prayer meetings, to name a few (and impeccable accents other than Nutt’s occasional slip into Brooklynese). The singing was actually enjoyable – one of the few times I’ve seen a play done with music that added to the production instead of feeling like a clunky afterthought. It all felt very … well, professional, very much English-style theater. I can see why it’s been packing in the punters night after night, especially the school groups (whom I imagine running home to laugh about those backward Americans and not so much actually discussing Darwin like I imagine their teachers hope they will). But what bothers me is that it seems not nearly enough people are actually taking home the real message of the play, of the value of conscience over the will of the state, and of the never ending conflict of science and “hysteria knows best.” At least, I like to think, amidst the shame of the still ongoing battle about biology instruction in America as the church tries to take over the state, we’re at least coming out as a country where people will take a stand against unjust laws, and people will stand up for science no matter what lawmaker finds it inconvenient. I can only hope people in this country do the same.

(This review is for a performance that took place on Wednesday, November 4th, 2009. Inherit the Wind continues at the Old Vic through december 20th, 2009.)

Review – Marionette “Out of the Heart of Darkness” – Movingstage at the Puppet Barge

Last night was my one and sadly only visit to a Suspense Puppetry Festival event; though I love puppets, I only heard about it after my theater calender had pretty solidly filled up. My choice was Movingstage Marionette Company’s “Out of the Heart of Darkness.” I thought it would be great to see such a seminal work of literature on the small stage: imagining Marlon Brando (of Darkness redo “Apocalypse Now”) at 1/10th size cracked me up.

But I also wanted to go because my husband has a fascination with colonial Africa and the way the West wrecked the culture and the lives of the people living there (reading books like King Leopold’s Ghost and Casualty of Empire), some of which I’ve absorbed. This production, set deep in the heart of blood diamond country, had full awareness of the literary background, the colonial baggage, and the modern day tragedies of the Congo. The frame was the wife of exiled dictator Mobuto Sese Seko asking the narrator to aid her in getting her hands on her family’s frozen assets; and the enigmatic man Kurtz, at the heart of the story’s orbit, runs a diamond concern with the ruthlessness so many in this position, in that land, have displayed.

Sadly, the production never succeeded in conveying the mystique of Kurtz in a compelling way, despite the fact that most of the characters spoke about him at length; this left it all feeling a bit like a “waiting for Godot” where after the big buildup you actually do find Godot and he’s about as impressive as the Wizard of Oz. On the other hand, perhaps Wizard is a better comparison altogether, as both stories are really about the journey and the changes wrought in the travellers by taking it; the human inciting the trip is a bit of an afterthought. I am convinced, however, that Kurtz is in no way meant to be an afterthought. I will have to read Conrad to be sure. And the overall effect was really diminished by having all of the dialogue and music provided as a recording. I realize that getting the right effects for this show (about five male characters and two female) must have been difficult with a troupe consisting of about four women and one man – but the recording took away the spontanaeity of the show and really created barriers to engagement with the story for me.

That said, I must praise the technical execution of this show. Aside from the lovely puppets and their graceful manipulation, the show also had the best set design I’ve seen on the small stage – a lovely series of fore, back, and middle ground set pieces, with a backdrop that could change color to express mood (not surprising for regular theater but notable for puppets). In addition, there was a fun drop in the shape of binoculars to show the audience what the narrator was seeing, and some silliness involving the bottom half of puppets dancing. Finally, I have to especially commend them for depicting Kurtz as a puppet with an eye hole bored straight through his head – the otherworldly feeling this created nicely captured his disconnection with reality.

In short, this was a good evening, but not a brilliant one, good for lovers of puppets, Africa, or Joseph Conrad. I do hope that next year there is another puppet festival and I’ll have a chance to pick from a series of shows like this one again.

(“Out of the Heart of Darkness” continues through Sunday, November 8th, 2009.)

Half price ticket deal for Birmingham Royal Ballet’s “Cyrano” and “Quantum Leaps” (short works) programs

Today the Metro has a great offer on Birmingham Royal Ballet’s November visit to Sadler’s Wells: £38/£29 seats for half price (these are considered “top price,” same discount applies for a cheaper Wednesday matinee). Available for Quantum Leaps on November 10th and 11th and for Cyrano on November 13th and 14th. Call 0844 412 4300 and quote “Celebrate the City Offer” to book (£2.20 booking fee) – or go to the Sadler’s Wells website and enter “pcdcelebrate” in the promo code field after selecting your tickets to get the discount (£1.50 booking fee). Make sure to pick from the top price ones or you will not get a discount. I consider Birmingham Royal Ballet to be one of the best ballet companies around and highly recommend you take advantage of the opportunity to see these two new works when they come to London.

Great deal to see “The Comedians” at Lyric Hammersmith

Today’s Metro featured a great deal for the Lyric Hammersmith’s production of “The Comedians” (my review here): best seats for £10. To claim this offer, call 0871 221 1723 and quote “Metro Offer.” This offer good from November 2nd through the 9th.

Barbican Double Header review – Slung Low, “They Only Come at Night” and Michael Clark Company, “Swamp” and “come, been, gone” (the Bowie/Iggy/Lou Reed dances)

Friday night marked a brief return to the world of Dance! Theater! Art!, all three of which I packed into one night at the Barbican. My new job is near Old Street, and, wow! The Barbican is just ten minutes walk from my front door! I decided to take advantage of the early start time of the new Slung Low piece (Visions: They Only Come at Night) and relative late start time of the new Michael Clark piece to see two shows in one night. I’d really enjoyed the previous Slung Low piece I’d seen (“Helium“), and, well, a dance piece inspired by David Bowie, Iggy Pop, and Lou Reed! How could I not go!

I started off the evening by a brief visit to the Barbican’s Curve gallery to see Robert Kusmirowski’s “Bunker.” It’s basically a recreation of a WWII era underground war operations area, with a train track following the curve of the wall and little rooms built inside, such as a toliet area and a command office. Unfortunately I’ve seen a lot of these in real life since moving to England and I didn’t find this very interesting; maybe in America it would have been more “ooh ah.” Possibly worth 5 minutes and free so if you’ve got time to kill before a show, why not, but I certainly wouldn’t recommend a special trip.

Next up was “They Only Come At Night,” which is apparently supposed to be a spooky promenade show that takes advantage of the Barbican’s underground parking area. I can definitely see where their parking garage would be creepy but this show wasn’t. The Slung Low penchant for having participants put on headphones to hear dialogue/monologue was relied upon to the point that it pretty well killed the show for me – it was just too damned wordy – and listening to the “evil doctor” (or whatever he was) go on about his plans for taking over the world (or whatever it was) just kind of put me in a hypnotic trance that set me free from the droning in my ears and let me take in the atmosphere that was surrounding me. The whole thing was remarkably actorless (I think I saw 5 in total – no, 6, as there was also a creeping horror in one room), and the one to one interaction I did have made me think they all need just a bit more work with improv (and possibly more research on vampires in popular culture) to make it all seem more realistic.

Let’s see: short, spoilerless description? You are taken in a group of three to the parking garage, where you are occasionally split up and frequently made to stand inside a circle of salt and put on headphones. The headphones thing happens once before you go in and five times after. Once you will be split up and each have a one on one moment with an actor; if you are lucky, you might get the actor who gives you potato chips. If you get them, feel free to eat them, as you will not need them during the story. There is one actor who is a bit scary if he touches you and you don’t see him coming. Um … it all takes around 40 minutes. There are projections, which are sometimes okay and once fairly good.

Overall, though, this would have been more effective if we had been split up more, if more had been going on inside the car park, if the things we were given somehow came into play later, if the actors interacted with us more, if there had been more reliance on creating atmosphere via something besides listening endlessly to people talking through the headphones, if the last actress had had something bad happen to her on the way out. But they didn’t and it wasn’t and while it wasn’t the worst 40 minutes I’ve spent, it was also skippable. It’s sold out now, but the good thing is you’re not really missing anything. Go see some puppet shows at the Suspense Festival instead, that looks really good.

Unfortunately because the show had run over, we couldn’t go out to Pho Cafe (a bit of a long shot but really yummy) or to Sedap but were instead forced to throw ourselves on the mercy of the food offerings at the Barbican, which were pretty consistently overpriced and underinspiring. That said, for 4 quid I got a bowl of salad topped with two cold salads, one potato and ham, the other quinoa and rice, and it was filling – the quinoa was even enjoyable, though the excess mayonnaise on the potato salad grossed me out and I gave up on it.

Anyway, 7:45 and a drink order later (at least the bar was cheap!), we were in our nice stalls seats in the space-age Barbican Theater for the Michael Clark company’s latest. The breakdown was “Swamp” (music by Wire, then music by Bruce Gilbert), followed by “come, been, gone” (first half Velvet Underground, then, strangely, an interval, then music by David Bowie). “Warm Leatherette” was playing overhead, and I was excited about the evening.

Unsurprisingly, it all turned out a little mixed. The first bit, with dancers in space-age blue or white costumes, seemed relaxed. I found myself focusing on the dancers bodies, noticing that three of the women were almost interchangeably petite, while the third seemed just generally more solid and adult. The men were very bulky, rugby-looking types. Does Clark go for a hyper masculine/feminine look in his dancers? To be sure, they were pleasant to look at, and left me feeling fat and out of shape, but … just trying to figure out what was on his mind. The movement was pleasant and graceful, but not memorable. Ah well, on to the bar and some rock and roll boozing prior to the Velvet Underground section.

This half of “come, been, gone” was, I think, fairly successful, with background images that called to mind the various movies of their live shows. “Venus in Furs” went for some really obvious yet fun SM-y costuming (though the sparkly Zentai suit was much cheerier than scary); “White Light/White Heat” was all about the boogieing. “Heroin” had the single worst costume I’ve ever seen in a dance piece, up there with Bjork’s Academy Awards swan outfit: painfully ugly and obvious. However, the dance itself ended with a little gay silver-trousered sprite perking around on stage in a way that I thought actually captured the joy of getting high that was very much a part of this song, and darned nice after all of the heavy-handed “I stick needles in my body” ick that preceded it. Amd, hey, let’s hear it for dancers in low-rise, skin tight silver pants; the feel was very Andy Warhol’s Factory and I think hit the era pretty well. (“Ocean” was a nap, by the way, but it’s a really slow song so no surprise there.)

The final section was, I think, going to be the most challenging, as Bowie has creating a really solid visual image to accompany his music. Would Mr. Clark be able to rise to the challenge, and maybe go beyond it? Well … the answer was, I’m afraid, no. The worse failure was “Heroes,” where he not only clad the dancers in mini-leather jackets that echoed Bowie’s video, but then insisted on accompanying the performance by having the video itself projected on the back screen, which proved totally distracting, overwhelming the rather modest movement. I find the music really soaring and gorgeous, but the movement was very much on the floor. Bah. This was, however, the worse of the series; “Mass Production” (by Iggy Pop), with its bizarre, two toned (actually three toned but kind of like a bird’s coloring) costumes and exaggerated movement (the dancers leaning sharply backwards and moving very slowly) nicely captured the whole space-age yet still very 70s weirdness that I think represents some of the best of that era’s Glam Rock sound.

Fortunately for the last two songs, “Aladdin Sane” and “Jean Genie,” Clark really got into the story telling and joy of the music. I can’t tell you how much I loved “Aladdin Sane.” It’s a great song with amazing piano in it, and Clark both went for showing the story in the lyrics but also having solo work that played out the riffs of the music – something I’ve tried to do myself in my living room many times but enjoyed seeing a real dancer and a real choreographer tackle on stage. In addition, the throbbing baseline played out as a sort of group march, which suddenly brought to mind the “March of the Montagues and Capulets” from Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet. Rah! The garish orange flame costumes were also really appropriate to the music, carrying across a lot of the weight of the Bowie imagery, perhaps more successful due to the lack of overshadowing video. This all transitioned rather nicely into “Jean Genie,” which had the dancers adding checkered jackets over their orange bodysuits and just really going for the joy of the song.

I have to mention that in the middle of this section, Mr. Clark himself came out and did a strange little dance that just reminded me of Hitchcock making a cameo in one of his movies. Very, very odd; was it for a costume change or were the dancers just incredibly beat?

Anyway, overall I’d consider this a fun night, in part because I really like seeing dance that actually engages a vernacular that means something to me. Abstract music is all really nice, but this music is the music of me (as well as Mr Clark and a lot of the audience), and seeing it danced was great. I wish there’d been more partnering and more leaps and such, though – the movement just generally seemed very atomistic, like it almost didn’t matter that there were so many people dancing on stage, and the random “girl on pointe” moments made me sad for what could have been – if he’d wanted it. Still, it was a lot better than the last thing I saw by Clark, and generally enjoyable. I expect it will be a very popular evening.

(Michael Clark continues through November 7th, 2009. Slung Low continues through November 15th, 2009 but is sold out for the run; return seats may be available. Bunker continues through January, 2010.)

Early booking for the Bridge project at the Old Vic: Don’t do me any favors!

So I’m going through this announcement for the next series of shows at the Old Vic (you can see it here), and I see this quote:

Early Booking Offer: Book for Six Degrees of Separation, As You Like It and The Tempest and receive a 5% discount. Offer valid on all ticket prices, tickets must be booked by Sun 20 Dec 2009 and can only be booked by calling the box office. Not available retrospectively, online or in conjunction with any other offer.

Wow a FIVE PERCENT discount. They’re really rolling out the red carpet for this one, aren’t they? I suspect that every ticket order comes with a free paper cup full of water from the bar downstairs, too.

Exhaustion has set in

Have you noticed more activity on here recently than, say, over the summer? Yes, I’ve seen 8 shows in the last two weeks, and fit in a trip to Venice. And I’ve written up every show I’ve seen, a real damned trick given that I’m working a new job that doesn’t leave me time to blog. This has required 1) using my phone as a blogging device 2) carrying a tiny laptop so I can blog on the train 3) staying up late so I can write and 4) writing in the morning before I head out to work. This, by my standards, IS work.

No doubt about it, I am worn out. I will now spend the rest of this week NOT blogging, NOT getting home after 11, and NOT getting too aggravated about how expensive tickets are to the double header I would have really liked to have seen at the Royal Opera House, only I’m not forking out 35 quid to see it. And I’m not going to see Silence again even though it was really, really fun. I’m going to stay home. Well, until Friday, when I’m going to see TWO shows, (count ‘em, two) in one day.

With luck, I’ll get a guest review sometime this week, but I am taking a break. I need the sleep.

Review – Money – Shunt (at a space on Bermondsey Street)

Well. Money was, to put it bluntly, one of the most boring periods of time I’ve spent in the pursuit of theatrical experiences in a while. A mere 45 minutes in, I could already hear the voice in my head whispering “sound and fury”, and though I held on to hope, it was for nothing. It utterly failed to capture any kind of atmosphere, tell any kind of story, or, frankly, be interesting in even an incoherent way. I’m willing to concede that I might be suffering from a bit of burnout after seeing four shows in four days, but, well, this was the stinker of the bunch, and to be honest it was actually the worst thing I’ve dragged myself through in several months – and without the benefit of a clear way to leave.

The kicker was that I kept expecting that amidst the trouble they’d gone to to create a good atmosphere, there was going to be some kind of payoff, but there just wasn’t. It’s lame when my favorite point of an evening of theater is getting a free glass of cheap champagne and even lamer that my second favorite thing was an opportunity to throw (very light) balls at a particularly irritating performer. Silence: The Musical was a thousand times the show Money was, which is really pathetic given the differences in budgets between the two. Who knows, maybe Clockwork Quartet can do their next show in this space and really make it count for something; as it was, the transformation of the former engine housing in this industrial building was all for naught.

In short: cool set, great lights, fantastic sound system, total waste of time. I don’t think it really warrants any more effort on my part to describe it as I can’t get excited enough about it to make the effort.

(This review is for a performance that took place on Friday, October 23rd, 2009. It continues through December 22nd, though I’m sure you can find much better things to do with your time.)

Review – Silence: the Musical – Imperial Productions at The Curtain’s Up Pub/Baron’s Court Theatre

NOTE: THIS REVIEW ASSUMES FAMILIARITY WITH THE CHARACTERS OF SILENCE OF THE LAMBS which I knew even though I’d never seen it before ’cause I don’t like scary movies.

It’s not every night that you’re having dinner, casually admiring the hot guy two tables over, then find less than two hours later that you’re now able to say, “Wow! I got to see his junk!” But this was a special night, the night I went to see Silence: the Musical (as in the musical version of Silence of the Lambs), and the sexy, lanky redhead I was admiring was none other than “Buffalo Bill” in the show (Connor Brown in real life), and he had a very special number to sing with a title on the lines of “Would You Fuck Me Now.” And he performed it, ultimately, with his Beardsley print dressing gown (covet!) very much off and his lanky, tattooed, pierced body on. Phoar. Oh, and with his junk tucked between his legs, because, you know, looking like a woman is Bill’s shtick, not that the sharp eye wouldn’t have caught an eyeful (and apparently yummy Mr. Brown’s had more pierced than just his nipples).

And, really, wasn’t it such a rude show? Agent Starling (Charlie Cable) is groped regularly, makes fat jokes, and is mocked mercilessly for her lisp; Hannibal “the cannibal” sings “If I Could Smell Her Cunt.” There is nothing polite about this show in any way, right down to the poodle puppet (about which the less said the better). But really, if you’re not planning on seeing this show and having a good laugh then you’ve picked the wrong play to see – though I doubt anyone who would be attracted to it would be expecting a serious commentary rather than a stick in your eye parody.

I’m actually finding it hard to talk about how very well Silence worked in this tiny space. The show was inventive and fun, from the tap-dancing corpses to the face full of silly string to the use of a cut-out plastic mask for Lecter’s escape scene; but all that wouldn’t have added to a hill of beans if the cast hadn’t been so talented. Agent Starling had the looks and the moxie; while Bill was all sex and shamelessness. But the real star was Tom Murphy as Dr. Lecter himself, because with pipes like that he was a real treat to hear singing. I was reminded of the poor showing at Annie Get Your Gun (and for that matter Carousel). Murphy proved that, despite my fears, there are still apparently actors in London who can sing, though they’re being replaced on the West End with people who need microphones to amplify their tinny voices. And I can promise, you could hear the T that ended every single c**t that came out of his mouth. Mary Martin would have been proud.

I was also pleased that I’d somehow wound up at a musical where the words once again mattered, illuminating plot and character. Unfortunately (and this is my one complaint, though it was a problem far, far too much), in many scenes, especially where the actor had his back to the pillar that demarcated the two sections of audience (the stage was square and we each had a view from one side or the other) you could not hear what was being said, which was a shame as it was often funny and always interesting. It was also a problem for a few of the group scenes and the fault clearly lies on the electric piano, which just needs to be turned down a tad. I realize whoever set the sound levels probably has all of the lyrics memorized, but I don’t, and I would have liked to have heard them.

Overall, this was a brilliant night out (especially at £12 a head and with a two hour running time) and I recommend it heartily as likely the most fun musical on in town right now and CERTAINLY better than anything I’ve seen since Pirates at the Union Theater.

(This review is for a performance that took place on Thursday, October 22nd, 2009. It continues through October 31st. For more information see www.imperialproductions.org. I promise I’ll add in actors’ names once I can find them – any help appreciated as I didn’t get a program.)

Review – Terror 2009: Theatre of Horror and Grand Guignol – Southwark Playhouse

Last night I went with J and two friends to see Southwark Playhouse’s early Halloween offering, “Terror 2009: Theatre of Horror and Grand Guignol.” Back in Seattle I used to attend Open Circle theater’s regular Halloween offering of HP Lovecraft plays, and I was eager to recreate the experience. Apparently a lot of other people were eager for some chills & thrills as the evening was sold out. While I like the energy of a full theater, piling in to the darkened room (supposedly an electrical issue but in fact an artistic decision) was a huge hassle; I don’t like trampling over people to get to a seat, I don’t like being forced to scoot down to the ass end of a 15 person bench when I’ve chosen to sit where I can see, and I don’t like being forced to walk over people in near total darkness to find your own seat.

Things got off to a grand start as the usheress battered to death a “patron” who’d failed to turn off his cell phone. We then progressed to play number one, my favorite of the evening and worth the price of admission alone: Lucy Kirkwood’s “Psychogeography,” which was sort of on the traditional haunted house lines only … way creepier. I don’t want to ruin the fun, but I have to give credit to the amazing design of this piece, which created a full environment for being spooked – sound, visual, touch … even the trains going overhead added to the atmosphere. The lighting design, basically a flashlight, a half-covered lantern, and an overhead light (which was rarely on), was perfect – guiding the audience’s eyes here and there and hiding things very effectively from us. But none of this would have meant much without the great script and the convincing performances (which I can’t credit as I’ve lost my program). The psychological dynamics between the two characters was very believable (after a bit of grinding at the first) and I competely bought their relationship and the tensions within it, which was crucial to making this piece work. High fives to all for a great play.

Next was Mark Ravenhill’s bizarre monologue “The Experiment,” which charted a convoluted tale of torture and amoral behavior. It was uncomfortable and had the possibility of feeling very ugly if the protagonist had seemed more in touch with reality, but fortunately its shifting, Rashomon-like qualities kept me wondering what the real story was all the way through and didn’t affect me much emotionally.

Returning from intermission, we had the very tight drama of Anthony Nielsen’s “Twisted,” a sort of “Silence of the Lamb” jailhouse psychodrama which left me wondering just who was the victim. While I felt the interviewer was too young to be a seasoned psychologist, there’s no doubt that the tension that developed between her and the man she was interviewing became very real, and I found myself very caught up in the action (not to mention trying to work out the puzzle of “what’s really going on here?”).

Afterwards, I actually hustled my ass out of the theater to miss the Neil LaBute “Some White Chick:” extreme sexual violence doesn’t sit well with me. My husband reported that it wasn’t worth staying for, so I’m glad I saved myself the 40 minutes or so. As it was, I had a great evening anyway and really felt this evening was well worth the thirteen quid I shelled out.

(This review is for a performance that took place on Wednesday, October 21st. The last performance is on Saturday October 24th, but be warned: Thursday is sold out and Friday and Saturday probably will, too, so shop now if you are interested.)