All The World's A Stage

And all the thesps merely trying to get into the Donmar

Ah, theatre for the masses – images of poncho-wearing Londoners scrabbling over limbs and briefcases whilst waving at their chums, who have managed to procure a patch of concrete on the piazza in Covent Garden to settle down (in torrential rain) to watch a bit of ‘live’ opera – on a screen! Let’s not kid ourselves – this is not theatre for the masses; the bigwigs at the Royal Opera House are not throwing open its revolving doors and saying “Come in, take a seat, have a gin and tonic!” The people squashed together are OUTSIDE, IN THE RAIN and ‘the masses’ are mainly drama students and young professionals from Fulham who think it might be “such fun” to dabble in a tad of Tchaikovsky over their pink fizz and M&S snacks!

Lest we need any more convincing that our beloved London stage is decidedly not for the masses, the Evening Standard Theatre Awards (fanfare please) prove that what we’re really dealing with is elitist, star-studded and starry-eyed theatre. I mean, who really wants Joe Bloggs from the North (we’re not just talking North of the river) coming down to London with his rabble and touching the velvety seats of, say, the Theatre Royal Drury Lane with their very un-luvvie bottoms? Just imagine! No, no, it’s best just to keep the riff-raff out and then rub the thesps up the right way with something they can understand – awards exclusive to London with Bollinger, canapés and Dame Judi Dench. The ceremony against the glass backdrop of the Floral Hall at the Royal Opera House (where else?) is nothing short of glittering with a guest list that’s like walking through Madame Tussauds, such is its profusion of Hollywood A-listers and serious actor types (did we mention Dame Judi?).

But the real dichotomy lies in the fact that we secretly love it! It’s the exclusivity of it all that makes it attractive. The very fact that we can’t get a ticket for love nor money (actually, if you really want to throw money at the problem you can re-mortgage your house and get a couple of tickets on eBay) turns the London theatre scene into another world that we can’t quite touch but we can marvel at from afar. It comes as no surprise then that Michael Grandage and his Donmar came out on top at the Awards – ‘Othello’, ‘The Chalk Garden’ and ‘Ivanov’ all picking up honours. Kenneth Branagh was heard proselytising about Grandage’s access for all programme but, in reality, it’s impossible to get access unless you book ten years in advance. They then tantalise the drama students by releasing tickets on the day, which gives it a Charlie and his one-in-a-million ticket to the chocolate factory feel…if you’re prepared to dream – “perchance to dream” as Hamlet or maybe Jude Law or David Tennant said – and get up at 6am to queue round the block, then you might just be in with a chance of witnessing a rare theatrical gem!

It’s not just the audiences; from proper Shakespearean actorrrrrrr Charles Dance to veritable whippersnapper Josh Hartnett, the stars are falling over each other to get in on the act – or three acts if they can manage it. Of course, it’s only a short Tube journey across town from White City for Mr Dr Who David Tennant and Kevin Spacey accepted his award for reviving the Old Vic (oh, what a fickle bunch those journos are) via video link; apparently he’s just doing a film to pay for his theatre habit. So, it seems our West End is where it’s at, not so much stage to screen but Hollywood A-lister to serious actor type (we’re still not quite sure if Jude Law’s going to make it!) What we do know is that find-a-star-for-an-Andrew-Lloyd-Webber-musical TV programmes are out and serious, electric, heart-stopping drama is in. So do anything; queue round the block, make an outrageous bid on ebay, climb through the window of the theatre toilet if you have to – anything for a golden ticket!

Gordon's Out of the Frying Pan…

The potty mouthed ‘F-Word’ two Michelin starred chef and face of Gordon’s gin (phew), Gordon Ramsay is in hot water over an alleged affair with professional mistress Sarah Symonds. Lord Archer’s ex and Ramsay’s secret sidekick since 2001 is not just any old mistress, she’s the lady who wrote the book on the subject – and then appeared on ‘Oprah’ to plug the weighty tome subtitled ‘A Handbook For The Other Woman’. Even better is the News of the World headline: ‘Cheat ‘n’ Two Veg’.

Down with Hip Hop

The question still remains of whether we will ever tire of ridiculing Boris. The problem we always face is that he comes up with such drivel on such a regular basis that we just can’t help ourselves! The latest ‘policy’ - if you can call it that - is out with films and hip hop for youngsters and in with musical instruments that are laying dormant in people’s homes…apparently. Of course, we wouldn’t expect anything less from Boris’s Victorian ways – he probably learnt how to play the lute at Eton – but there’s really no need to inflict a city full of trumpet-honking children on the rest of us when all they really want to be doing is rapping in Trafalgar Square.

Alas, poor Andre!

Surely the furore about David Tennant playing Hamlet hasn’t worn off to such an extent that the Royal Shakespeare Company has had to pull out another marketing ploy to get the attention back on their hot production. Nope, last time we checked it was all sold out so the only conclusion is that director Greg Doran thinks that using a real-life skull for the famous Yorick scene will add a certain grisly realism to Hamlet’s lamenting. It’s an interesting ‘acting’ debut for Polish pianist Andre Tchaikowsky, who bequeathed his skull to the Company for precisely this purpose – 25 years of lolling around in the props cupboard has finally paid off!

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