"I was eight years old before I realised that Diamond Lil was not a woman but a man called Harry". Oh dear.
Last night Andy treated Kevin, David, Pano and I to a bit of fringe theatre. We went to see Diamond at the Kings Head Theatre in Upper Street. The story of a couple of trannies down Columbia Road during the war.
And it was the biggest pile of poo-poo ka-ka I've seen in a very long time. 'Good' isn't the word. My toes curled so far up my legs I thought I was going to have to crawl home on my stumps.
That said we did have a laugh; mainly 'at' rather than 'with' though. In fact David and I got the giggles at one point it was so cringingly bad.
And David put it very well afterwards: The comedy was tragic, the tragedy comic. Actually, the play would be salvageable if they cut some of the songs; ok, all of them. And some of the characters; ok, all of them. And some of the dialogue...
But Andy perhaps put it best as he struggled to say something positive and ended up damning them with faint praise: the lighting was good.