I’ve always said you can’t see everything (even though I always try). But being away from London for five weeks, I am inevitably missing quite a bit: I already noted in my last blog that I was sorry not to catch Foxfinder at the Finborough or Dame Edna in panto at Wimbledon, but I’m also sorry not to be seeing Duckie’s Copyright Christmas at the Barbican.
I’ve seen every one of Duckie’s Barbican shows, from C’est Barbican (that won them a Laurence Olivier Award, and which I’ll never forget for an act called ‘Boogaloo Stu Wanks for You’, which involved him playing with a giant false penis that culminated in a volcanic eruption over the table we were seated at) to The Class Club (which involved a Christmas dinner being served in three different classes, Lower, Middle and Upper class, with entertainment to match, a concept so brilliant that I went three times to experience it in each, and of course Middle Class proved to be the most excruciating).
Earlier this year there was also Lullaby, an all-night sleep-over at the Barbican that was intended to lull you to sleep and did, eventually, for me. But my colleague Charles Spencer wasn’t so lucky; in his review, he reported that “a dire night became downright humiliating” as he finally fell asleep, only to be repeatedly shaken awake by complaints about his snoring.
In the West End, I missed the opening of Noises Off (though have already booked in to see it the night I get back on January 16), which by all accounts is just as brilliantly funny as it has ever been. Matt Trueman, who files the weekly blog round-up for The Guardian that’s called Noises Off, reviewed the play, too, and was loyal to the play that gives his column its name, calling it “one of the seven wonders of post-war theatre.” (High praise indeed; I just wonder what the other six are).
I also missed the West End season for Swallows and Amazons, before it goes out on a national tour, though I saw its premiere at Bristol Old Vic last Christmas, and interviewed its composer Neil Hannon at the time for The Stage. I’ve long loved his work for The Divine Comedy, but when I asked him about how he came to write the music for the show, he replied, “When my dad was made a bishop back in the day, he said that there’s no bishop school - they don’t teach you who to be one and what you are actually supposed to do, so you sort of make up the job yourself. That’s rather similar with a musical. Nobody really told me how [to write it].” Instead, he went on, “they just put me in a room at the National Theatre studio with a piano, and it was great fun. I felt like I was in the Brill Building in New York!”
I’ve missed Gyles Brandreth as Lady Bracknell in a musical version of The Importance of Being Earnest at Riverside, for which relief I gave much thanks; I feel (and fear) that I already know exactly what it’ll be like, and even one or two encouraging reviews confirm that feeling. But I’ve sadly missed the Union’s latest Ayckbourn, Joking Apart, which I saw the original West End production of in the late 70s but is one of Ayckbourn’s plays that has largely seemed to have disappeared since.
And of course I’ve missed a bunch of pantos; the one I’m most sorry to have missed beside Dame Edna was Dougal Irvine starring as Aladdin at Aldershot, mainly because I’m currently obsessed by Acoustic Overtures, a CD collection of his original songs he has written, and performed by himself and other West End-ers, including Michael Jibson, Julie Atherton, Lauren Samuels and Samantha Barks.
Arriving in Sydney, I have missed a series of shows there, too. Mary Poppins, which I’ve seen everywhere, it seems, from the West End and Broadway opening nights to the US national tour in Washington DC (where it starred our very own Caroline Sheen). I had tried to see in Australia back in March when my friend Philip Quast was in the cast as Mr Banks, but he was ill that week so missed him then; by the time I got to Sydney, he had left the show (he starts rehearsals next week for the Australian premiere of Yes, Prime Minister).
And even though I was still tempted to re-visit the show, press tickets were not available on the last day of its Sydney run so I had to pass on that, too; and then I was in Brisbane a week too early to catch it there instead, where it begins performances at the clumsily monikered QPAC (the Queensland Performing Arts Centre) this Friday.
I also wandered into Sydney Opera House on the afternoon of Saturday December 17 and saw posters for Tom Stoppard appearing in conversation that day, but weirdly all the Opera House publicity, from their season brochure to the poster, failed to indicate a time when this was happening. It turns out it was 3pm, and I missed that, too! And at Sydney Theatre Company, co-artistic director Cate Blanchett was starring in Gross Und Klein, but I couldn’t get into that, either — but at least I’ll be able to see it when it comes to the Barbican in April instead.
What are you sorry to have missed this Christmas? And what are you happy to have missed?
I think you'll enjoy Noises Off, Mark! It was absolutely brilliant - I've seen it three times and this was definitely the best all-round revival! And every cast member is a joy (including your fave, Ms Dee) so that should be a treat for you! I am a little disappointed I'll miss Gyles...I always feel I can't pass judgement until I've seen it for myself, even though I wasn't keen on seeing it at first. Recently, I was very sorry to have missed Broken Glass at the Vaudeville, and Dame Edna's panto debut at Wimbledon! However, I caught Coram Boy in Bristol which was stunningly beautiful and hauntingly sinister - pity you'll miss that too! Happy New Year!
I don't think the play Noises Off gave the blog the title. The term "noises off" is a theatrical term, cleverly borrowed by Frayn, for noises, er, off-stage during a sloppy production. Most often heard in panto during big scene changes.