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No country for old women: Old Ladies - at Finborough Theatre

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The day after seeing The Old Ladies at the Finborough Theatre , I was describing the play to someone in great detail: about three old ladies who lived in a rickety house in southern England in 1935. Based on Hugh Walpole’s novel and adapted by Rodney Ackland, it is the sort of story with enough believability, humour and mild thriller to stick in your mind. Perhaps it is the lure of this dark, forboding tale of a life without money, to be alone and to be old, that makes you feel attracted to this poverty porn. But then again, given the state of the world, the cost of living, an ageing population, or just the fact that it’s a dog-eat-dog world, it might as well be an every little old lady-for-herself, too. It’s a well-acted and staged piece that moves at a brisk pace, so there isn’t much time to think about it too much. And in the intimate (or should that be claustrophobic?) space of the Finborough, there’s nowhere to avert your eyes. Even if you wanted to.  The scene is a grim Cathe...

Theatre in progress: The Menu

Friday night I caught a "work in progress" at the National Theatre called "The Menu". It is what they are referring to as a scratch performance where in essence they are workshopping a new piece but with an audience. There were enough disclaimers to lower anybody's expectations about what we were about to see but in essence it wasn't that bad. Sure the production was unfinished and there were enough subplots to drive anyone crazy (and some scenes didn't make any sense) but there is the potential there in this play set in the not too distant future Britain, where suicide bombings and lack of liberty are the norm. I thought the satire on the future (newsflash: Prince Harry was reprimanded today for wearing a fake Muslim beard) worked better than the love triangle between the three leads, but others with me went along with it all.

I enticed people to come to it on the premise that it could be the next masterpiece to come out of the National. I don't think we saw the beginnings of Chekhov on Friday night but it could have been a whole lot worse…

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