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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...

Cabaret: Topping and Butch

I caught Topping and Butch Friday night at Central Station which is in N1 and a long way from SW4 (as I found out catching the night bus home). Still, it is good to get out and see the city, even if it is at 2am...

But back to Topping and Butch. They have been getting better (and ruder) since I last saw them at the Soho Theatre and Comedy Camp two years ago. They were also trying out bits of their new show they are taking to Edinburgh Fringe next month. Their show is basically a mix of jokes about current affairs, other topical issues and smut. Naturally at a gay bar this goes down like a treat.

As I was sitting in a comfortable leather lounge suite watching the show I was also a target for their banter, but fortunately for me they were gentle (my name was only referred to a few times during the show).  This was far less confronting than when I arrived at the venue and was greeted at the door by a lady who asked me if I was there for Club Fukk. That caused me to pause for a moment. "I might be," I told her. As she went through a list of email addresses that she had on a sheet of paper I then realised I had been instructed to walk through to the main bar and not go to some basement. This was rather fortunate my memory came back to me at this point as I was later informed the club was for ladies who like to wear strap on devices for fun. Apparently men go down there as well, but I had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't going to be my cup of tea…

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