Theatreland.

We are only three months into 2011 and already I've been to the theatre seven times, which must be something of a record.

Spamalot -

In 2008 I went to see Spamalot in London and I have to admit, I didn't really get it. It was Harry's eighteenth birthday present and I think at the time, I had probably seen Life of Brian at a push and I knew the words to Knights of the Round Table, because we liked to sing it in our English class at school. Now though, 2011 Jess sneers at 2008 Jess's Monty Python knowledge. I have truly grown to love those silly English (and American) kniggits over the last couple of years; I own all the films, the Flying Circus box set and a t-shirt, which reads 'Upper Class Twit of the Year' and I have read one and a half of Michael Palin's diaries (plus, by association, I own Around the World in 80 Days and Michael Palin Full Circle too). When Terry Jones came to Theatr Colwyn last Easter, to raise funds for its redevelopment, I rang up the box office and ordered tickets faster than you can say, "Fetchez La Vache!" I have now entered the stage of Monty Python fandom where I can watch a film or a sketch and say with absolute confidence, "Eric Idle, John Cleese, Graham Chapman, Eric Idle, Terry Jones, Michael Palin, John Cleese. Oh look, a Terry Gilliam appearance, that's rare!" Therefore, come January when Spamalot came to Llandudno at long last, I absolutely loved it. I don't share the belief that Eric Idle is milking Monty Python of its last laugh, I just relish the fact that forty years on, I can still go down to the theatre and revel in a fish-slapping dance, or a Knight with no legs or a hearty verse of 'Always Look on the Bright Side of Life'.

War Horse -

I have already mentioned how much I enjoyed War Horse. It was absolutely phenomenal. Once it would have seemed impossible to me that the topic of war could be portrayed so well on the stage, but I have been shown time and time again that this is not the case. Michael Morpurgo's work, I feel, translates particularly well. About five years ago I went to see a one-man production of Private Peaceful at Theatr Clwyd and it was so bare and so raw that I didn't think anything would ever top it in terms of hard-hitting performance. War Horse may well have done that. The story of animals and their mistreatment during times of war is always a difficult one to hear, because we know that these creatures play no part in the beginning of wars, have no say in their involvement and are used more and treated harsher than ever they are in times of peace. I remember watching Atonement and feeling sick at the sight of horses shot on the beaches of Dunkirk; despite the human tragedy taking place around them, their loyalty and their futility stand out to this day. War Horse highlights these injustices - the horses are very much the central characters of the piece - and because of this it is effective and it is sad. However, it is not a play without hope and our affection for Joey, the titular war horse, though tested to the last, is ultimately rewarded.

Blood Brothers -

We went to see Blood Brothers quite by chance. Frances, Martha and I were left in charge of tickets and after a quick look around the kiosks of Leicester Square we were faced with a choice: We Will Rock You (standing only) for £18 or Blood Brothers for £31. Wisely, considering the shopping and the march down the South Bank that followed, we chose the latter. The story of Blood Brothers was one that I knew only vaguely, through my association with various people in various musical theatre groups. It had something to do with Liverpool? and twins? who were... separated at birth? Actually, it was brilliant going into a musical with a minimal grasp of the plot for once (unlike, say, Les Miserables, where I went in singing). In fact, it was brilliant full stop. The character progression from carefree child to tortured adult was portrayed fantastically by the actors and there was a streak of humour running throughout, which rendered the ending all the more tragic. The only negative thing I can say about Blood Brothers is that I had the refrain, "like Marilyn Monroe/And we went dancing" stuck in my head for days afterwards - and I didn't know any other words.

King Lear -

Before Vicki booked our tickets for King Lear, the name Derek Jacobi meant nothing to me. Then I saw the King's Speech and I was able to put a face to the name - he was the old man, playing the Archbishop, yes, yes. Then, on the night of the play, I read the programme and I realised that I did know Derek Jacobi after all - he was the Master, pre-John Simm, in Doctor Who, isn't that funny?! All of which meant nothing when it came down to his performance in Lear; he was outstanding. The thing is, I have a funny relationship with King Lear. In my head it's hilarious; I think of A Level English Lit one-liners like, "Base, base, bastarding, base" and "Out, out vile jelly" and it cracks me up (we were a very odd English Lit class, probably a nightmare to teach). I remember the shambolic stage performance we saw in Chester in year twelve: the cello lady and the wailing during the storm scene and I can't help but smirk. But then I see a truly mind blowing performance like this and it reminds me all over again that King Lear is a play about betrayal and insanity and loneliness and it is dark and it is powerful and it is very sobering indeed (although, I do confess I smiled when Regan screamed, "Wherefore to Dover?"). I sat through Jacobi's performance on the storm-struck Heath, through his whispered, "blow wind and crack your cheeks" monologue and my mouth literally hung open. Wow. I actually cannot think up words enough to describe how good it was - only, I feel awfully sorry for those people who missed out on a performance later in the week, when Derek Jacobi lost his voice.

Batman the Pantomime -

(I decided I would spare you a shoddy photo - half featuring a blurred Charlotte, half featuring the back of somebody's head - for this one). Another wonderful OULES performance and hopefully not the last I will attend; I am honestly planning to make the trek down to Oxford next Christmas and Easter if I get the chance. If not, it was a very fitting end to my run as an Official Charlotte's Fan Club Ltd. member (sob). The cast seems to have swelled since Beauty and the Beast and I'm pleased to see it is doing so well (five stars in some Oxford University paper, don't you know). There were superheroes and villains, memorable songs, at least one reference to gin and Charlotte was a very victimised, not at all smiley victim. What more could you ask for?

The Mikado -

Okay, I admit it. Clearly it is not just my knowledge of highly regarded actors that is useless. I had never heard of Gilbert and Sullivan before today. Well, never heard of them is perhaps going a bit too far, but they were definitely muddled up with Gilbert and George at the back of my mind somewhere, if I knew them at all. Hence, Gabby's dad asking me at frequent points throughout the Mikado, "are you sure you don't know 'Willow, titwillow, titwillow' (etc.)?" Um, no, sorry. So how did I fare on this, my first Gilbert and Sullivan experience? Well actually, I loved it. The ENO put on such marvellous shows. The set was interesting (although I hear it is usually grander when the traditional Japanese stage-directions are used), the singers were excellent (I felt like Alfie Boe was a real celebrity opera singer, because I had seen him in the Les Mis 25th Anniversary concert and Ko-Ko reminded me of a friendly Severus Snape) and the songs were funny (although Gabby and I had no time for the Stephen Fry slander in the alternative "little list" song). Also, we went on a tour of the Coliseum beforehand and I'm pretty sure I was sitting on top of Fred, the resident ghost!

The 39 Steps -

Today we went to see the Mikado, which was planned. Today we also went to see The 39 Steps, which was very much not. I have been hoping to watch this play for quite some time now. Every time I walked past Piccadilly Circus I would look at the Criterion Theatre and think, "How? How can it possibly be the winner of the Best New Comedy award?", which would then fade into a steady internal grumble about John Buchan and the inevitability of war and bi-planes in the Scottish Highlands and so on. Thus, when Gabby's dad suggested over lunch that we found some tickets for this evening's performance, I was completely for it. And you know what? Shut up internal grumbles. It was very funny and very much deserving of its Best New Comedy award. Clearly it deviated from the Buchan novella and possibly from the film* as well (I'm not sure, I haven't seen it), but in many respects it was better than my memories of the book would allow. The fact that there are four actors to a dozen different parts and it is set in the funniest little theatre you could imagine, only add to the fun and the quick character cross-over scenes in the Scottish hotel? Well, they were my favourite. *(Edit: I have since seen the Alfred Hitchcock film version and it makes a lot more sense now. They are practically identical).

There are so many other things I want to see in the theatre this year, particularly before I leave London in the summer. I would love to see Benedict Cumberbatch in Frankenstein (although I fear that tickets are long since sold out for that), I want to see Matilda if and when it comes to London and I want to watch a play at the Globe. I am certainly off to a good start though.

Also, do you see how bad a student I am? I love everything. I find this every single week in my Literature and Film class. I am far too easily pleased. Other people come in and say, "well, I didn't think much of that", and I will always think to myself, "don't be silly, it wasn't that bad." My tutor will say, "I never watch films that are less than ten years old" and I will sit there and quietly pocket my Cineworld unlimited card. I suppose it makes my 'reviews' a bit untrustworthy/ overzealous, but at least I am always guarenteed my money's worth in life.