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I Miss The Mountains: Fly More Than You Fall @Swkplay

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Losing a parent when you’re still figuring out who you are and your place in the world seems like a bummer of a topic for a musical. But somehow, Fly More Than You Fall tackles grief and loss with a light touch, catchy music and enthusiastic performances. While it may not offer great insight into the exploration of grief, it gives pause for thought and a few laughs on the way. After all, death doesn’t take a holiday, and nobody gets out of here alive. We just hope it doesn’t happen too soon. It’s currently playing at Southwark Playhouse Elephant .  We first meet Malia as she prepares for summer writers' school. She aspires to be a writer and has a story in development. Encouraged by her mother to keep going, she is looking forward to the summer. But the summer school is cut short when her mother is diagnosed with stage four cancer. Back home so her mother can spend her last days with her family, Malia has to grow up quickly and find her voice while watching her mother slip away.  T

Theatre: Happy Days



The first thing you notice when walking into the Lyttelton of this production of Happy Days at the National Theatre is that where there should be a stage there is a huge mound of dirt and a surrounding desertscape. The set is lit by such bright lights that the little old ladies in the row in front were covering their eyes for the first half hour of the production. It was a pity that the ushers didn't offer sunglasses out of a large black handbags. It could have easily been in keeping with the mood of the show...

I get the impression Happy Days by Samuel Beckett is the play that is trotted out every now and then to get a great actress to strut her stuff on stage. This time it is Fiona Shaw's turn and she was great to watch as Winnie, the middle-class housewife who has minor worries in life, but is always concerned about whether it will be a happy day. All the time in the first act, she is up to her waist in a mound of dirt. In the second act she is up to her neck in dirt. I have to admit my mind tended to wander a bit as I kept thinking, how does Fiona manage to act surrounded by all that dust??

Still, it was helpful having a discussion earlier today about the play with a colleague who studied it as part of her A levels... That whole mound of dirt thing could have been a little unexpected. Then again, you probably can't be too ready for seeing the mound of dirt on such grand scale. Director Deborah Warner (whose last production I saw was the equally large scale production of Julius Ceasar at the Barbican) obviously doesn't do small scale.

At the end of first act as if a nod to some of us postmodern to confuse our Beckett for our sitcoms, the theme tune from Happy Days played us out to the bar. These days are ours indeed...

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