After recovering from my Les Mis experience, I wanted to get viewing again. I decided to go back to the humble (albeit uncomfortable and sight limiting) seats of the theatre. More peanuts and wine, I thought, less pick n’ mix and popcorn. Basically, less chance of being vommed on. A friend was starring in Othello in the Bussey Building in Peckham. So me and my girlfriend hopped on the overground to check it out…
We arrived at Peckham Rye very late, and for some reason we didn’t bother to look up the map, we just ran in one direction and then the other, soon realising that it was actually right next door to the station. South London is the new East London and the Bussey Building is what they call a creative hub, with a pub on board. May I add – they apparently have more sex in South London (according to this week’s Time Out), I wonder why? What is it about getting into Brixton station that makes people want to drop their knickers/boxers? I’ll look into it…
The Othello Peckham Theatre Company have modernised the play. It’s set in western military security companies; the soldiers are dressed in camouflage and modern army gear, they drink Stella in vests, and Othello does press ups while Iago poisons his mind. The moderniastion is not remotely awkward and the acting is sensational. Iago is extraordinary – charming, yet manipulative and narcissistic. More dimensions to him than a star – break dancing in the sky.
I wasn’t familiar with the story of Othello, but bloody hell it’s a corker. I did not, for one second think, ‘Oi Shakespeare shut it! I want a glass of pinot’ It’s got to be up there with my favourites – King Lear and Macbeth. In the last scene – three bodies lie dead on a white bed in the dark pillared space of the Bussey Building. I was shaking – a stunning end to a stunning play.
The grin on my face soon depleted – getting home took hours. I was cold, sober and hungry – sorry Shakespeare but next time you want to get me to Peckham, you’re going to have to cook something.
So that Thursday I returned to my Sloaning ground – the Royal Court. No Quarter was on and I was longing to see it. The reviews were raving and Tom Sturridge was the main dude. And he is seriously fit. On top of that – it was sold out. That really gets me going – the old ‘everyone wants it, so must I’ syndrome.
So I went. On my own, may I add. Because I am a cool independent woman, or a loser – whichever way you want to look at it. I lurked around from 6 to see if I could get my mits on a ticket, and I did….
The play is by Polly Stenham, who wrote her first play at 19, is ridiculously brilliant, and successful and gag inducing. It is about everything – relationships, holding onto fake truths fearing living and protecting what you believe to be yours. Whether it be your dignity, your house, your art or your passion.
It is very like Jerusalem but set in a grand English home, rather than a Wiltshire caravan. Tom Sturridge’s character Robin is the manifestation of addiction, loneliness and charm. The addict who thinks he is free, but is shackled; thinks he is an anarchist, but is only a slave to drink and drugs. I found the familiarity of the themes unsettling. I know people like Robin. Desperately lost but resistant to being found.
When I left I had that feeling every good play gives you. Which is whoa – I need to sit with that for a while. Preferably on my own (lucky for me)
It had been a good week of theatre, with no seatarchy (in both performances the seats were all the same) I headed straight to McDonalds to celebrate with a chicken burger.
