The Wind in the Willows

I’ve never liked The Wind in the Willows.  I always thought it a tedious story about boyish animals in which I have no interest.  I never watched Tales From the Riverbank or those interminable Sunday afternoon short Disney live action films which anthropomorphised mountain lions and zebras; though I did quite enjoy the 1993 remake of The Incredible Journey, thanks to Michael J. Fox and Sally Fields.  But that was it for me as far as animals on film and stage are concerned.

Thus it was with a heavy heart I went to watch Alex play Mole in The Wind in the Willows.  My son was the only reason I considered watching it at all – stupid Alan Bennett with his stupid fake creatures pretending to be human.  

I’m so glad I love my son.  The show was fantastic!

http://theatredelicatessen.co.uk/

The performance space was an old Woolworths, turned into an arts café – a really cool/funky/epic/whatever-the-hyperbole-is-these-days space.  The furniture is unashamedly second-hand, including the bunk beds in the main seating area and old armchairs for the audience in the staging area.  The tables are covered with blackboard paint and there are pots of chalks available for patrons’ use.  Naturally the Hub and I spent a happy half hour scribbling like infants.

About ten minutes before curtain-up, a scruffy little creature began cleaning up, playing Connect-4 with the child (there was only one in the audience; most children clearly feel the same way about performing pretend-rodents as I do) and fussing about, getting in everyone’s way.  That was our first introduction to Mole.

We were ushered into the performance space and – so civilised! – allowed to take our tea with us.  I should say, the first performance space, because this was promenade theatre: the audience followed the cast around from room to room. At one point we sat on a concrete floor.

The use of space and props was clever.  The river was symbolised by a variety of blue material, waved on a string by two of the cast.  Toad’s prison was a stock trolley which Woolworths must have left behind when they cleared out.  As the boat containing Ratty and Mole meandered along (a different trolley, pushed by a different cast member), it was passed by a boat going in the opposite direction – I know this because I noticed it was about ten inches long when it was given to me by the girl on my left and I passed it to the Hub on my right, and so on along the first row.

We moved from Ratty’s home and Toad Hall to the Wild Wood – a bare, cold room with lighting and imagination the only props – on to Badger’s sett and back to Mole’s home in the café.  Mole and Ratty got into the bunk beds and fell asleep and everyone looked at each other because no one was sure if it was the interval or the end.  I think some people left, believing it was the end of the show, but it was actually the interval.  

http://www.springfield.derbyshire.sch.uk/category/wind-in-the-willows-2015/

The child who had been rather apprehensive of Mole at first thought it would be fun to shout ‘Boo!’ in his ear several times.  If Alex doesn’t have a career in acting, he could succeed as one of those street human statues, because he never moved, not even when he heard his own mother scream as she dropped a large cup of very hot tea all over herself, the table (wiping out some creative doodles, a mean comment and a couple of rather lewd suggestions – made by other people, I swear) and the floor.

I think this was Alex’s best performance yet.  He was sweet, funny and stayed in character the whole time.  I know he stayed in character the whole time because I’m his mother, so of course I watched him to the exclusion of all others when he was on stage.  When he wasn’t part of the dialogue he was scratching at fleas, fiddling and reacting to the other actors.  

To be fair, just about the whole cast was excellent, especially Ratty, who had the best lines and made the most of them and the Judge, who was hilarious.  Another was the Gaoler’s Daughter – the inspired casting of a male in that role paid off, particularly at the end, when he kissed the boys.  The Head Weasel was great and had a compelling but deliberately annoying laugh.

This was a well-directed and well-acted production which made perfect use of the unusual space.  But most of all, it was FUN.

Of Death, Tin, Trees & Moles

 Photo courtesy of Spud’s friend on Facebook

Tinman regretted the tiny costume budget…

Spud is rather busy at the moment.  We missed him as Tinman in The Wizard of Oz.  The students do what’s called a 24-hour musical: they turn up one night, are told what the musical is and what part they’ve been cast in; rehearse through the night and next day; and go on that evening.  It’s a lot of fun and raises money for charity.

We did see him as Happy in Death of a Salesman last week.  The whole production was excellent and the young cast brought real maturity to the performance.  Flora Turnbull as Linda Loman was particularly good.  She’s one to watch.

 Photo courtesy of Spud’s friend on Facebook

Happy spots his next victim

The play and Spud got two great reviews.  If you’re interested, you can read them here and here; but I’ll give you the edited highlights:

Tom Williams as the conflicted Biff, and Alex Cosgriff as the overlooked Happy, also deliver outstanding performances as Loman’s two wayward sons. Alex’s comedic timing is exceptional…

Laura Elliott, Kettlemag.co.uk

[Happy], the excellent Alex Cosgriff

Matthew Drew, ForgetToday.com

*

Click on the image to find out more 

You may remember how I raved about The Tree of War last September; well, this just in: it has been extended, extra songs added, and is to be staged for a week in September in a bigger venue.  Spud has been asked to reprise his role as Bert; as has Sam Gilliatt as Grev.  You can hear their duet on Soundcloud; as well as an ensemble piece.  Spud is the second voice on the first song and first voice on the second song.*

Spud has had three scripts in his head for the past few weeks – there’s no danger of Alzheimer’s in his old age but his head might explode at some point.    Death of a Salesman finished its run on Saturday night. He got to bed at eight a.m. Sunday and then was up for rehearsals at one for one of the two plays he’s appearing in next weekend.  The university runs an event called Platform, which showcases student plays; Spud is in two of them.  After that, it’s straight into rehearsals for The Wind in the Willows.  He’s playing Mole.

He has managed to fit everything in around his studies (his marks show that he is actually studying) but he doesn’t have much of the typical student life.  I’m glad to say.  No heavy boozing for him, unless it’s the after-show party for Death of a Salesman. 

Ah, the life of an actor.

Joke 158

Two students were discussing food.

“I got a cook book once,” said John.  “But I couldn’t do anything with it.”

“Too much fancy stuff in it, huh?” asked Mike.

“You said it,” John replied, nodding.  “Every one of those recipes began the same way: ‘Take a clean plate…’ ”

We’ve Got Gigs Coming Out Of Our Ears Here

Bailrigg fm festival

Tory Boy phoned last night.  Not to chat to his mother or tell her how much he loves and misses her and he should never have left home to go to university, leaving her bereft and jobless.

No, he called because he wants me to promote a music festival he’s helped organise.  Fair enough: I’m a mother; doing as I’m told by my adult children is part of the job description.

When: TODAY from 12 to 9

Where: Lancaster University and bailriggfm.co.uk, so anyone can listen, anywhere in the world

What: MUSIC! LIVE BANDS! DJs!

Price: FREE

The festival has been organised by Bailrigg fm, the student radio station at Lancaster University.  It is the first time they have tried something like this and they are hoping to make it an annual event.  The students have organised everything, including the food (done at the last minute by Tory Boy himself, so you know who to sue).

TB will be doing his DJ sets at 12 – 12.15 and 12.45 – 1, UK time, so please check him out if you happen to be online.  Click here for an international clock.

Then report back to me: I can’t be doing with all that nasty, modern music.

Did You Hear About This?

  A grand piano appeared on a sandbank in Biscayne Bay, Miami (go here for a better picture).  It was believed to have washed up until a student confessed that he and his father had placed it there in a bid to help his application to art school.

I admire his lateral thinking but what really tickled me was the official response:

Officials said they acknowledged the teen was trying to express his artistic side, but that he should have obtained the correct permits to do it.

                                                                                                                    Sky News

I think they’re kind of missing the point, don’t you?

Quite Interesting

I was watching QI recently and I learned two interesting facts:

1. The Netherlands now has its own version.  I first typed ‘Holland’ but luckily I remembered that an episode of QI explained why that is incorrect.  I’m not going to bother telling you why it is, because I’ve forgotten. 

I checked out the QI website and I don’t think it’s that helpful for the kind of information I was looking for – which other countries have their own version?  But it did steer me towards the QI entry in Wikipedia , the first time I have known that to happen, and this in spite of QI’s regular mockery of the veracity of Wikipedia’s entries.  The answer was The Netherlands only.  (Wikipedia cleverly avoided the Holland trap by saying ‘The Dutch’.)  The only reason it hasn’t been picked up by other countries, apparently, is the issue of copyright of the images broadcast.

It took me so long to type that, I’ve forgotten what number 2 is.  How annoying.

Took a chocolate break and it came flooding back; chocolate is clearly brain food – how else do you explain the number of degrees given out each year to 21 year-olds who believe that three years of eating crisps, chocolate, pizza and Coke constitutes a balanced diet? 

There is – allegedly – a website in America called seeitrot.com, where you can buy a webcam for a coffin and watched your loved one moulder to dust away.  I say ‘allegedly’ because of course I had to check it out, and nothing came up except lots of laments about rotten food, and advice on protecting your boat because salt water will otherwise kill it off.  Didn’t know that either.  This self-educating business is fun.

I found the seeitrot.com thing interesting because of my Mum.  I hasten to assure you I had no desire to watch her rot away – it would have been kind of dull, anyway, because she’s a pile of ash – but she had a phobia of being buried or burned alive in her coffin and  I’m sure she’d have insisted I sign up if she’d known about it.  She made everyone she knew swear to stick a pin in her when the time came, to confirm she was truly dead.  Everyone agreed to do it – well, you have to placate crazies, don’t you? – but only the Hub and I followed through.  Just as well, really as, with that many holes in her, the pall bearers would have had embalming fluid stains on their suit shoulders at the funeral.  Now that would have been interesting.