My London Your London

A cultural guide

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Theatre Review: Charlie and Lola’s Best Bestest Play at the Pleasance

by Sarah Cope

There can’t be a child under ten or a parent in the country who doesn’t know about (and can accurately quote) Charlie and Lola, the endearing/irritating cartoon duo devised by Lauren Childs. Most households with children will have at least some of the books, if not the DVDs, stationery, clothing… the list is almost endless.

Now doting parents can take their own little Charlies and Lolas along to see the stage play, or the ‘best bestest play’, to use the rather coy title of this production. And it’s a curiously staged performance, with Charlie and Lola being represented by two-dimensional cardboard cut outs with moving eyes and limbs, which are operated by stage hands in neutral clothing.

They’re there but they’re not there – a difficult concept for any child to grasp. As for the cardboard cut-out figures, I heard one little boy bemoaning loudly, repeatedly, “Mum, that’s not real Charlie and Lola!”

Once the children had learned to suspend disbelief, this was a play that kept this usually fidgety audience rapt. This was helped by the familiarity of the storylines – the play incorporated several of the best-known books and episodes, as well as the voices from the series. The whimsical music used in the BBC cartoons also aided concentration, and when the theme tune started up at the beginning, most of the kids sat up and paid attention in the manner of Pavlov’s dog (minus the dribbling, by and large).
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Theatre Review: Decline and Fall by Evelyn Waugh at the Old Red Lion, Islington

by Natalie Bennett
(First published on Blogcritics)

Probably the best-known Evelyn Waugh satire these days is Scoop, which since it is required reading for all young journalists gets lots of media exposure. If you know Scoop, then there’ll be little to surprise you in Decline and Fall, Waugh’s first novel, which has been adapted for the stage (for the first time – oddly enough given its obvious comic possibilities, although it was filmed in 1969) by Henry Filloux-Bennett (no relation) for the Old Red Lion Theatre in Islington.

We’re in the early 20th-century British elite – a corrupt, degraded, weak elite, where there’s no honour or justice or even commonsense. The centre of the story is Paul Pennyfeather (Michael Lindall), a young aristocratic scion (we don’t learn his backstory in the play) who’s haplessly caught up in a Bollinger club prank (with contemporary resonances that got a particularly broad laugh from the opening night audience).

From there we follow him on a rollercoaster ride to an employment agency, which sends him to a awful public school in Wales, where he meets the mother of one of the pupils, Mrs Beste-Chetwynde (Fay Downie), who apparently falls for him, and prepares to marry him in the nouveau-riche social event of the year. But it turns out her money comes from South American brothels, a link which ends up with Pennyfeather going down for seven years in jail.

It’s a whirlwhind ride in two hours with interval – particularly with the addition of a complicated subplot around the drunken master Captain Grimes (Sylvester McCoy – yes he of Dr Who fame), who finds himself trapped into signing up for bigamous marriage with the headmaster’s less than attractive daughter.

There are comic lines galore, and the classy cast play up the slapstick to the hilt – it’s almost more of a comedy show than a play (reflecting the background of a number of the cast).

It’s a fine technical debut for Filloux-Bennett at the Old Red Lion, and it has “transferring to the West End” written all over it. (Much of this would actually work better on a large stage with a bit more audience distance.)
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Film Review: Mike Leigh’s Another Year

by Sarah Cope

A new Mike Leigh film is always an exciting prospect, and Another Year is perhaps one of his finest works yet. It features many of his usual actors (Imelda Staunton, Ruth Sheen , Philip Davis), but it is Lesley Manville, who has featured in many of Leigh’s previous films, who this film really belongs to. Her portrayal of the nervy, desperate Mary completely overshadows the rest of the characters, but perhaps this is not entirely accidental.

Middle-aged, happily married couple Tom (Jim Broadbent) and Gerri (Ruth Sheen) are the nucleus around whom the film is built, but their very stable, unremarkable life makes them less interesting than their unstable, unhappy friends. Their home, which is itself almost a character in the film, is a port in a storm for the lovelorn and the bereaved.

In a deeply disquieting scene, Lesley Manville’s Mary flirts outrageously with Tom and Gerri’s 30-year-old son, Joe (Oliver Maltman), who she has known since he was 10. Rather than being embarrassed by her drunken advances, Joe, for reasons unknown, returns the flirtation. The pain and vulnerability in Mary’s eyes, which continually well-up with barely-supressed tears, and which Leigh shrewdly focuses on repeatedly, is almost unbearable to watch as she almost pleads for love.

This is a film which highlights how painful it can be for deeply unhappy people to witness happiness in those around them. When Jo finds a girlfriend, Mary’s reaction is enough to almost finish her friendship with his parents, who she in fact relies upon for support and companionship. Her friendship with Gerri is particularly interesting, with Gerri assuming the role of counsellor, which is in fact her profession. “As long as we’re friends I’ll be all right,” cries Mary, whilst the viewer wonders how mutually satisfying this friendship really is.

The story is told, as the title suggests, over the course of a year, and the cinematography beautifully portrays the changing of the seasons. The scene where four of the men play golf in the summer was gloriously shot, its brightness and colour contrasting greatly with a funeral scene in winter, which almost looked as though it had been filmed in black and white.

There was barely a duff note in the entire film, and with Another Year Leigh may well have reached the high point of what has already been an outstanding career.

On general release.

Exhibition Review: 400 Women at Shoreditch Town Hall

by Sarah Cope

Navigating the outside steps down to the basement of Shoreditch Town Hall, I came across some women leaving the exhibition 400 Women. “I need something to cheer me up after that!” said one of them to her companion.

The subject matter of ‘400 Women’ is indeed sobering, highlighting as it does the huge numbers of women who are raped, murdered and who ‘disappear’ in Cuidad Juarez, a city in Chihuahua state of around 1.5 million people, situated on the border between Mexico and the US. These murders are separate from those related to drug cartels; they are happening simply because the victims happen to be women.

From January to October this year, there have been over 300 murders of women in Chihuahua state, which amounts to more than one victim a day. Despite being condemned by the Inter America Court of Human Rights for their inaction over these ongoing atrocities, the Mexican authorities are still not acting, and this is giving perpetrators carte blanche to continue the killings.

This exhibition came about when BBC Producer Tamsyn Challenger went to Cuidad Juarez in 2006 to make a feature on the subject for ‘Woman’s Hour’. Having met the relatives of some of the victims, she decided to bring the matter to the public’s attention though a unique exhibition.

Challenger invited 175 artists to paint a portrait of one of the missing or murdered women, using a photograph, sometimes the image of the woman used on the home-made ‘missing’ posters created by worried relatives. The 175 artists range from well-known figures such as Maggi Hambling and Cathy Lomax, to lesser known painters. Tracey Emin fans should note, however, that although her name is mentioned in the publicity for this exhibition, and her portrait of Ana Maria Gardea Villalobos (raped and stabbed March 1997) is listed in the exhibition guide, Emin did not provide her portrait due to ill health.

The space in Shoreditch Town Hall basement is extremely fitting for this exhibition – a dilapidated, spooky, ill-lit space, made up of a veritable rabbit warren of rooms with crumbling walls – is exactly the sort of place that you could imagine something very horrible happening. The darkened nature of the space only serves to heighten the vividness of many of the portraits, many of which sparkle with life and convey the vivacity of the women who have now been robbed from their families.

Alison Harper’s portrait of Perla Patricia Saenz Diaz, who was stabbed to death in February 1998, was a stand-out piece for me, with the expression of the victim being hard to decipher. This was true of a lot of the portraits – many of the women had a notable sadness in their eyes, despite their smiles – though it is impossible to know whether our knowledge of what happened to them makes this sadness more obvious.

Fred Schley’s painting of Claudia Antonia Nunez Gomez, who went missing in August 2007, is clearly a close copy of a photograph of the victim. A blurred face, an insignificant moment captured, becoming a lasting image of a woman who would be missed for ever, her family receiving no justice of any kind.

This is a profoundly moving exhibition, and Amnesty International’s involvement means that it will serve to put much needed pressure on the Mexican authorities to finally act before the murders and disappearances amount to nothing short of a genocide of the women of Cuidad Juarez.

The exhibition continues at Shoreditch Town Hall until December 5.

Art exhibition: Please Write at Posted

by Sarah Cope

“Is this a post office or not?”

These were the words of an elderly local woman who came into the Please Write, the second art exhibition at Posted, which, as you might have guessed by now, used to be a post office. Indeed, it still very much looks like a post office, with the counter intact and some of the artefacts from the post office now having been cast and remodelled in plastic. I was very taken with the oversized calculator, and actually got in trouble when I touched it, totally failing to see the ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ sign right in front of me.

The exhibition has attracted some big names such as Rachel Whiteread and Tracey Emin, the latter having designed some stationery that can be purchased for a cool £50. Emin has also written a short piece about her love of letter-writing, explaining that ‘it’s like having a diary that goes out into the world. Some of my most intimate thoughts have been put down on paper, and sealed up in an envelope – sent off into the ether (…). It makes me calm, almost content.’ As a committed letter writer myself, I’d certainly echo that sentiment.

The exhibition serves to remind viewers that this is a dying art – sometimes quite literally: one of the pieces is a life-sized replica of a prisoner’s outfit, made up entirely of shredded letters written by prisoners on death row in the US.

Sam Hodge has utilised the ubiquitous postal service rubber bands one can see strewn all over the street to create her piece, while Tim Noble and Sue Webster have chosen to frame contrasting letters from each of their mothers, which stand as an alternative form of self-portrait.

As good as the exhibition is, and as much as I agree with the aim of encouraging more people to correspond via post rather than soulless email (not to mention the myriad other ways of communicating these days), I have to say I’d prefer it was still a post office. At least, though, the space is being put to use rather than the shop standing empty, and this is certainly an appropriate use.

As for the woman who wanted to know whether this was “a post office or not”, she was politely informed that it is an art gallery, albeit one that sells stamps. Oh, and very expensive envelopes designed by Tracey Emin.

Please Write – Posted, 67 Wilton Way, E8 1BJ – until 26 February 2011

Movie Review: The Kids Are All Right

by Sarah Cope

It’s incredible that in 2010 a film can find something entirely new to say about family dynamics, but The Kids Are All Right does just that. Lesbian couple Nic (Annette Bening) and Jules (Julianne Moore) have two kids, the rather oddly-named Laser (Josh Hutcherson) and Joni (Mia Wasikowska), now in their teens. The children were conceived by donor sperm, and now that Joni is eighteen, the offspring decide to contact their father.

He turns out to be the rather hapless though likeable Paul (Mark Ruffalo), who, on hearing his sperm had been used by a lesbian couple, tells his daughter “Right on. Cool. I love lesbians!”

The first meeting of the kids with their biological father is pitch perfect, with no one knowing quite how to act in what is unchartered territory in terms of social gatherings. The awkwardness is palpable.

The depiction of Nic and Jules, (or “Momses” as the kids collectively refer to them – different family set-ups require new words!) was at first, I thought, somewhat laboured. In order to stress the long-term nature of their relationship, and in order to establish them as a believable couple, the film somewhat over-emphasised the domestic details of their existence in a way I am not sure would have been deemed necessary had the couple been heterosexual. Look, the film seems to be saying, lesbian couples bicker in the same way straight couple do – who’d have thought it?

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However, the film really picks up after the first meeting of the couple with their sperm donor. The audience are asked to imagine what it must be like to encounter, for the very first time, the man whose baby you have carried and whose child you have raised. Unnerving, to say the very least. When Jules and Nic recount how they met, clearly a story they have told many times and which they enjoy recounting together (much to their children’s embarrassment), it one of the most believable and enjoyable moments of the film.

The appearance of Donor Dad Paul, though, will drive a wedge between the couple, in a way that is entirely unexpected (to say any more would mean this review would require a ‘spoiler alert’!). As Nic puts it “I feel like he’s taken over my family”, and when she finally decides, over dinner at Paul’s, that “I like this guy”, observant viewers will note she is actually pointing at Paul with her steak knife.

Nic’s wordless shock when she makes a discovery about the extent to which Paul has taken over her family is the strongest moment in the film, and if Bening wins Best Actress at next year’s Academy Award (she is hotly tipped to be nominated) she will deserve it for this scene alone.

On general release.

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