Fasten Your Seatbelts...

Stuart and my flight back from Cork on Sunday night was the worst, bumpiest, most turbulent flight we have ever flown together. I was hysterical, in floods of tears and clawing at my jeans. They had us in a stacked holding pattern for 25 minutes waiting to land at Heathrow Terminal 2 while the weather did its worst! Argh! There was a big round of applause when we touched down by most of the passengers. I, on the other hand, shouted "thank fuck!"

Cork...

This weekend just gone Stuart and I spent in Cork staying with the lovely Clodagh, Colin and baby Harry.

The reason for the trip was to meet up for the 20th anniversary of 'Giessen Girls' - who all misspent their youth on the same student course in Germany.

We had a great time and always fun to spend time with everyone.

At the start of the trip in Heathrow and as we boarded our Aer Lingus flight I popped my head into the cockpit and whispered to the pilot and co-pilot, "feeling happy today fellas?" Well, you would wouldn't you?

Dead and Alive...

Jo, Wills and Charlie...

Jo, Wills, Charlie, Myrtle and Dad all came up last Sunday for lunch. Stuart cooked us a lovely meal. Great to see everyone.

A View From The Bridge...

Last night Stuart and I went to see Arthur Miller's seminal play A View From The Bridge at The Wyndham's Theatre in London's glitzy West End.

And wow, it was an amazing production. Delightful, thrilling, funny, scary, sexy, harrowing, claustrophobic, and menacing.

Deceptively simple staging with a single chair as a prop and performed in the semi-round you felt up close and personal to each and every nuanced emotion of the brilliant cast.

Staged by Belgian director Ivo van Hove with lead actors Mark Strong (as Eddie), Phoebe Fox (Catherine), and Nicola Walker (Beatrice) the production has been a huge success at the Young Vic before it's transfer up West.

The play is set in 1950s America, in an Italian American neighbourhood near the Brooklyn Bridge in New York. It employs a chorus and narrator in the character of Alfieri. Eddie, the tragic protagonist, has an improper love of, and almost obsession with his orphaned niece, Catherine. Eddie's wife Beatrice is supportive of Catherine's endeavours to strike out on her own in the world but Eddie infantalises her and his over protective nature is almost unseedy.

Enter stage left two of Beatrice's cousins from Italy (the two gentlemen from Verona?) who are there illegally as work is scarce back home. Marco is a strong hard worker whereas Roldolpho is effeminate in nature, singing, joking, dying his hair blonde, cooking and making dresses. Catherine falls for Roldolpho and when they plan to marry against Eddie's wishes trouble comes a-knocking. Just what lengths will Eddie go to keep these star-crossed lovers apart?

As you can tell I detected a strong Shakespearean element to the play although the obvious parallels are to a Greek tragedy.

If you get a chance to go, do. Best show in the West End at the moment. 5 stars.

Buyer and Cellar...

Last Friday night Stuart and I went to see Michael Urie's one-man show Buyer and Cellar at the Menier Chocolate Factory in London's somewhat glitzy London Bridge Quarter.

The conceit of the play came after the writer Jonathan Tolins stumbled upon a passage in Barbra Streisand’s coffee-table book, My Passion for Design, that mentioned the fact she has built for herself a shopping mall beneath her Malibu estate. Inspired by that curious tidbit, Tolins invented a character, Alex, a young, gay, out-of-work actor in L.A., and spins a fiction in which Alex gets hired to be the sole shopkeeper in this mall for its sole customer, Streisand.

When Streisand visits the mall to shop, the running joke is that she comes by to buy what she already owns. And so, absurdly, Alex and Barbra haggle over the price of an antique doll she wants.

The play is very funny, full of zippy one-liners and the audience was in stitches. Adorably, Michael Urie seems genuinely to be enjoying the audience’s enjoyment. While the audience is laughing at something he just did or said, an impish grin will flash on his face as if to share the delight. This has the uncanny effect not of diminishing audience response by stepping on the laughs but of amplifying them. Urie’s being in on the humour enhances the spirited connection.

And it is perhaps a tad disingenuous to say that you need three things to enjoy this US import: a fetishistic fascination with Barbra Streisand, total immersion in showbiz and a love of high camp. You don't. But any or all of the above would certainly help.

So well worth a visit.

A Breakfast Of Eels...

Our mate and playwright David Eldridge recommended that Stuart and I go and see Robert Holman's A Breakfast Of Eels at The Print Room in Notting Hill Gate. So glad he did.

"You have to go and see 'A Breakfast Of Eels'. It is a shattering and beautiful play. Scintillating, ardent, rattles the bones and tears at your heart. It's like a cantata in play form but there is little stately. It is urgent, of London and of what it is to be a modern man with exquisitely turned heart and guts acting. Matthew Tennyson and Andy Sheridan give performances of such truth and commitment in a lovely production."

I couldn't have put it better myself. Wonderful show. Stuart and I loved it. Thanks for the recommendation Dave!

Marvel's Avengers: Age of Ultron...

A couple of complimentary tickets to a private screening of Avengers: The Age of Ultron with a goodie bag and unlimited drinks at the bar afterwards? Don't mind if I do. The downside? A 10 minute film on network storage first. I can live with that.

Jeremy Clarkson...

Jeremy Clarkson killed three puppies called Rusbridger, Toynbee and Greenslade, says Sunday Sport. You couldn't make it up. Oh, wait... (Sunday Sport goes all post-modern).

FORD!...

So there I was on the golf course, when I bellowed out, "FORD!"

The two guys ahead turned round and shouted back, "The term is FORE, you ignorant fuck."

Then the plane hit them.

Essex...

We had a lovely weekend - spending most of it as we did in Essex. Firstly to Kerry and Fergal's on Saturday night for a pre-St Patrick's Day dinner. Kerry laid on a great spread and we were joined by Sheila, Martin, Brendan, Nee and her sister. The bottle of Jim Beam didn't make the journey home in one piece though!

On Sunday we were back in Essex again - this time to Grays to have Sunday dinner with Stuart's family. We even got to pop into the Traitor's Gate public house to sample the local ale.

En route to Grays we went to Columbia Road Flower Market to pick up some irises for Brenda.

Great weekend.

Di and Viv and Rose...

Last night Stuart and I went to see Di and Viv and Rose at The Vaudeville Theatre.

The play tells the story of three eighteen year old friends - Di (Tamzin Outhwaite), Viv (Samantha Spiro) and Rose (Jenna Russell).

The women meet at university and Amelia Bullmore’s popular play follows the next 30 or so years of their lives, loves, ups and downs as friends. It's funny, moving and fantastically acted.

This brilliantly directed production deserves many accolades - not least to its actual director Anna Mackmin.

Go see.

Barbican Early 1960s...

Pictures Or It Didn't Happen...

If a friend says 'pictures or it didn't happen', murder him and don't take any pictures.

Man United 1-2 Arsenal - Tunnelcam...

Yaay! 2-1. We're going to Wembley. We were celebrating each ManU dive/booking like it was a goal. Here is a behind the scenes look at Old Trafford from last night's #FACup game Awful first season for LVG. Man Utd's first trophyless campaign since... oh, since last season.

Open Doors...

Auditions for the new Village People tribute act queue here...

Various construction sites around the UK threw open their doors this weekend just gone as part of... er... Open Doors weekend.

We visited Trenchard House first (lovely), then St James Market (ok but just office space) and finally Whitechapel Crossrail (bit boring as just a hole in the ground and a fairly humdrum viewing platform.)

It was fun though.

Game...

Last night Stuart and I went to see Game at the Almeida Theatre in London's glitzy Islington.

Where to begin?

Think Big Brother (the TV show). Think new house. Think cameras everywhere. Think near-future. Think housing crisis. Think young couple. Think guinea pigs. Think sport. Think shooting people for sport. Think shooting young couple in house for sport. Think clever set. Think hidden audience. Think voyeurism. Think good acting. Think poor idea well executed. Think Charlie Brooker. Think Black Mirror. Think Chris Morris. Think Blue Jam. Think mercifully short.

Think bleak. Bleak house.

Freezer...

I was upset when the freezer broke last week.
But that's just water under the fridge.

Jonathan...

Say no more.

Stuart...

Say no more.

Barbara Dickson...

Last Saturday night Stuart, Darren and I went to see Scottish songbird Barbara Dickson at the Union Chapel in London's glitzy Islington.

Originally a folk singer back in the 1960s Ms Dickson's pop career started in earnest in the early 1970s and continues through to the present day.

She has worked with the best, had a number one hit with I Know Him So Well and starred in numerous stage shows and television shows.

On the night we were treated to many songs from her back catalogue including Another Suitcase in Another Hall, Answer Me, Wise as a Serpent, Easy Terms, The Ark, Mary Skeffington, In The Bleak Midwinter/Here Comes The Sun, The January Man, Winter Song and of course the wonderful Caravans.

Great singer. Great voice. Great show.