Royal Hunt of the Sun - Oxford Playhouse, 27-30 October

Royal Hunt of the Sun is a little performed play by Peter Shaffer. After seeing it, it becomes clear why. This is a play in which gold is a main character, in which the cast start off in Spain, end up in Peru, tramp through jungle, cross the Andes (yes, cross the Andes), massacre 3,000 Incans, and all the while conduct a deep and profound argument about the morals of invasion, and the place of religion in today’s society. And in this case, all on a student budget. 

The cast make a valiant effort, but in the first half I was completely lost. I think this was in part due to confusing staging, and in part due to the fact that in the first scene I couldn’t really hear what they were saying because of the ‘ambient’ noise of sweeping and blacksmithery. Then I was distracted by Incans on stilts.

Things improve vastly in the second half, thanks in no small part to the fact that it’s all set on the same continent so the staging can be much simpler. Also, Joe Robertson as the Incan god Atahuallpa is allowed to take off his Golden Grahams headdress and really shine as the son of the sun. Maybe it was part of the message of the play, but it was only when the god stopped being a distant figure on a pedestal in a comedy hat and became a man that I was really able to engage with their world, and thus with the play as a whole.

There are some really interesting arguments, and a couple of great performances, but for me the treasure was too far out of reach.

The Social Network ****

How did a man with decidedly ropey social skills manage to create the biggest social website in the world?  So asks The Social Network.  Well, sort of.  The question is there in amongst an examination of ideas (as in: at what stage does an idea become something more concrete, that can be owned and thus monetised, rather than ‘an examination of ideas’ being my impressively vague description of the film)…  I seem to have lost my train of thought.  This is the challenge of being part of the facebook generation - I don’t even have the attention span for music videos.  3 minutes?  No, no, far too long.  I can’t manage to concentrate for the length of a sentence.

I did actually manage to concentrate for the whole of The Social Network, thanks to Aaron Sorkin’s clever script in which everyone is engaging, but no-one comes across especially favourably, and David Fincher’s masterly direction.  His manipulation of depth of field speaks volumes: in scenes of conversation Mark Zuckerberg is often the only object on screen in focus, subtly but pointedly conveying, if not exactly his self-interest, his obvious lack of interest in what anyone else has to say.

This is a remarkable story, remarkably well told.

A couple of points of interest: 

-It has what I consider to be one of the most realistic nightclub scene ever seen on screen.  I really liked the fact I had to strain my ears to hear the conversation over the music.

-The Winklevoss twins are played by the same person, by way of computer wizardry (much like the other technical term, 'computer trickery', but even more cleverer).  I saw the film before I knew this, and didn’t notice at all.  Things have changed since Hayley Mills in The Parent Trap.  Now that’s a good film.  I wonder if Hayley Mills has a facebook page… What was I writing about…?

Hairspray - Oxford Playhouse, 12-23 Oct

Hairspray is without doubt the most fun that you can have with Brian Conley in drag and Les Dennis in ill-fitting trousers. If inane grins and tapping toes amongst the audience are a measure of musical success, I don’t think it could score any higher. The songs are infuriatingly catchy, the productions values are incredibly high, and the mood is incessantly joyous.

Hairspray is quite easily one of the cheesiest things I have ever seen. In my entire life. Baltimore, where the musical is set, looks pretty different in The Wire, it has to be said. But it is utterly aware of its campness, playing up to the fact constantly. In a musical where Brian Conley plays the main character’s mother, I think campness can hardly be a surprise. 

The basic story is that Tracy Turnblad is considered too fat to dance on TV. She makes friends with some black people, they make a stand and then everyone is allowed to dance together. The politics are handled with the sensitivity of a sledgehammer. A notable line was “We’ll set off sparks like Rosa Parks”. Had this been the type of show to have an important, ‘serious face’ message, it would have been cringeable (thank you The Apprentice series 6 for a handy new word). But the contagious sense of joy means that whilst the message of equality and ‘oneness’ is conveyed, it is made far less clunky by show tunes and jazz hands.

All the cast are excellent, but special mention has to go to Brian Conley and his ‘daughter’, Laurie Scarth, for their unflagging energy and infectious enthusiasm. It seems unfair to put a spotlight on mistakes, but the highlight for me had to be the duet between Les Dennis and Brian Conley as husband and wife, where we experienced lost slippers, giggles, and highly disturbing bodily contact that I think will give me nightmares for weeks.

My main warning: Go to this with your children and they will want to be in musical theatre when they grow up. Correction: Go to this and you will want to be in musical theatre when you grow up.

Will Self - Oxford Playhouse, 8 September

Near the beginning of his talk, Will Self said something to us along the lines of, ‘in a couple of hours you’ll look back at this and think it was all some sort of surreal dream’ (though he probably used a few longer words).  And he was completely right.  His talk (and seemingly his new book, Walking to Hollywood, from which he read a few excerpts) was a very entertaining, but for me quite disorienting, meld of fact and fiction.  A sort of memoir that contained so much fantasy that it was difficult to keep a sure footing.

He came onto stage carrying a plate of sandwiches, and handed them out to the audience, so that was nice.  He then got slightly distracted by the strangeness of clingfilm.  How can a man still be interesting whilst talking about sandwich covering?  I was impressed.

The problem I found was that I couldn’t tell if he was laughing at us all for being there in the first place.  When asked for his thoughts about the state of theatre today, he told a story of going to see a play and being more impressed by the part played by the audience, who were more convincing than any of the actors on stage.  They played their role as middle-class theatre goers with real passion.  They applauded in all the right places.  As did we.  At the end of an extract we applauded, and Will Self said he’d like applause when he got out of bed in the morning.  Was he laughing at us, a bunch of people playing the part of the audience, believing his readings were true until they would suddenly switch and he was fighting Daniel Craig’s body double?  Is it possible to enjoy something and be made to feel quite intense self-loathing at the same time?  I might go and read Walking to Hollywood to see if I can find any answers.  Probably a pointless task.  Sigh.

Back to the Future *****

It's back to the cinema for Back to the Future, to celebrate its 25th anniversary.  I wasn't sure seeing it on the big screen could make me love it any more, but I was wrong!  The collective groan of pleasure when The Power of Love kicked in, as Marty skateboarded holding on to the back of a car, was possibly one of the best moments of my cinema going life.  Perfection.

Spend Spend Spend - Oxford Playhouse, 5-9 October 2010

Spend Spend Spend!, on at the Oxford Playhouse all this week, is a musical of two halves. Two utterly entertaining, equally terrific halves, but two halves nonetheless. It is based on the true story of Viv Nicholson, a miner’s daughter from North Yorkshire, who in 1961 won the biggest sum ever won to that date on the pools. 

The first half is a riot, and hilariously follows Viv on her way from rags to riches, with coarse humour taking in bunny girls, a fireman with dancing pecs, and a song incorporating an impressively wide variety of ways to say sex. This gives way to a more moving (though no less funny) second half as riches return to rags, the raucous energy quieting a little to reveal a very timely message about the true value of money. 

The real strength of the show lies in the multi-talented cast. They create all of the music themselves, and the incorporation of the instruments into the staging is really well done. I also found myself humming the title song on the way home, and that is always a good sign. 

If I had to be find fault with anything, it would be that Karen Mann as senior Viv’s Yorkshire accent isn’t always perfect, but the heartbreaking performance she puts in as a woman full of regret, living on memories, more than makes up for it. I was also ready to complain about choreographer and director Craig Revel Horwood’s vanity in inserting a quick Strictly Come Dancing reference, but I have since learned that Viv and her husband Keith did actually receive their big cheque from Bruce Forsyth! What a small world. 

So, I urge you to spend spend spend your money on a ticket this week. Ba dum cha. Yes, if I were as talented as the cast and were holding a drum right now, I would say that was deserving of a rimshot. I thank you. I’m here all week. As is Spend Spend Spend