Premiere of A Mother's Song, Finn Anderson's Latest Folksy Wonderby Randi / March 2, 2023It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is called Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead and played at the Barbican until April 1.
I’m so excited to write about the show we have been referring to simply as ‘Ow My Bones!’ for literally months. I am not excited to admit that that was because we weren’t familiar with the title because we didn’t know it was a book, but apparently it was and made a splash that I missed. And I love water! Not only was I unfamiliar with the source mats, but I also didn’t realize that Ow My Bones was pretty much a drama about animal justice. HERE. FOR THIS. SHIT.
Also, it’s coming from Simon McBurney and Complicite, who are always complicite in providing challenging and unique theatre. Sometimes they’re a little dark for me but the troupe is always doing something interesting. Like here: it’s dark af but it’s about like vigilante justice for animal abuse so again, I could not BE any more here for it.
In Ow My Bones, a lady named Janina (an incredibly captivating when I saw the show in previews (so long ago sorry) Kathryn Hunter) living in a remote Polish mountain town of 14 people learns that her asshole neighbor has died. It seems he choked on bones (ow!) but Janina has a gut feeling that the deer she made eye contact with outside had something to do with it. It was honestly hard not to start fist pumping when assholes who were cruel to animals starting dying. As more bad men (members of the hunting club) show up dead, we learn more about their history of being absolute dickheads to animals, women, pretty much everyone who counts (i.e. not hunters), and we hear Janina’s theories of how the animals are behind it all, somehow taking revenge. Everyone thinks she’s crazy, because I guess ON PAPER it SOUNDS crazy, but I was like, ‘this chick gets it.’
One of the reasons it took me so long to write this is because Kathryn Hunter got sick before opening night, so they delayed it, (and then I forgot), and then it opened with another actress, which is a shame, because I’m sure she’s amazing too as everyone in Complicite is, but with Kathryn Hunter it felt like her blood flowed to be on that stage playing that character. Even when she flubbed some lines (understandable she’s reciting like hours of text up there and it was previews) she was still supes powerful. Considering that hers was the only performance I remember disliking in Andor, this b really is a talented chameleon.
Ow My Bones is a little long, and about 3/5 through the first act it dragged a bit, but otherwise it was incredibly engrossing and powerful which is impressive considering it’s mostly one tiny woman talking at us for hours; that’s really hard to make captivating! Kathryn reminded me in sound and physicality of Linda….the little one who I first saw in that movie with the teenager who becomes like a secret agent or something but all I really remember is a woman being bitten by a scorpion in a pinkish bedroom???? HUNT. ooh ironic. (Anyone know what movie I am thinking of?) And while she’s the main act, the ensemble and supporting players are all stellar. I particularly loved the physicality (wow I’ve literally never said this word so much) of the ensemble, when they did little precise movements that contained a whole universe of creativity.
Anyway I was the teensiest bit disappointed in the ending (not how it’s staged, just as written) because I wanted Janina to be right; I wanted the animals to be doing these murders all on their own so I could have hope that they would fight back against all the shits ruining their existence in our world too but I guess that is a lofty lofty dream. Man the first act as a standalone would have been pure fire. But even so, I really enjoyed this which is shocking for me given the aforementioned darkness, violence, length (about three hours), and big time use of astrology (but honestly this character was the closest anyone has ever come to making me give it the time of day). Man, honestly though, a whole play (and book) about the possibility of animals getting revenge on hunters and poachers and the people who let them get away with it?? did *I* win a contest??
INFORMATION (NOT THAT YOU CARE SINCE IT’S OVER BUT MAYBE IT’LL HAVE ANOTHER RUN SOMEDAY SOMEWHERE SOMEHOW)
Start: about 7:52
Act I ends: 9:15
Act II begins: 9:37
Act II ends: 10:41
Barbican is the one theatre where no matter what we are always going upstairs. The stalls are my nightmare — incredibly long rows with no aisle breaks except at the ends so you could get trapped and have to get past like 30 people if you have to pee, it’s just horrendous to even think about. Upstairs in the upper circle you can have your own entrance door and no one behind you and it’s cheaper too.
The bathroom situation at Barbican continues to be the worst though, you either run down to a small one house left below the stalls or you go all the way out the theatre to like the movie theatre area. Woof.
The show uses big flashes a bunch, flashes that are blinding and upsetting. They are not upsetting in a theatrical ooh this is working for me way; they are upsetting because they are blinding. CAN. THEATRES. PLEASE. STOP. DOING. THIS.
Restaurant recommendation for pre-theatre: Korean BBQ & Vegan has moved from East London to here! Like around the corner! And they’re so fast and great. Two enthusiastic thumbs up.
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Standing at the Sky’s Edge: 2023 Olivier Winner Maybe Deserved It!
I don’t know why we slept so long on the 2023 Best Musical Olivier winner, but better late than never. Actually no, I do know why: it’s because husbo thought it would be ‘too English’ for my liking based simply on his knowledge that I hate colloquial English abbreviations like ‘brekkie’ so he says I’m ‘resistant to becoming British’ but little does he know I sign all my texts with x or even xx sometimes!
‘Standing at the Sky’s Edge’ takes place in Sheffield over three different timelines, telling stories of the people living in one specific flat over three generations, from standard starter home to projects to gentrified little zooplas. The stories of the madly-in-love ’60s newlyweds, the ’80s refugees from Liberia, and the posho escaping dramaz in London in the present intertwine nicely at first and then devastatingly later, all set to Richard Hawley (famous British musician? Pulp?)’s back catalogue and poss some new songs? Is this a jukebox musical? Who can say, but no.
I don’t say this often so gird your loins: the book is good. It’s captivating and the various timelines keep things interesting, and just when someone gets annoying you get to switch to someone else. I was pissed that I could tell early on from the subtle clues (“we got all four of your clues!” “amazing! actually I left more than 1200 clues but I’m glad you got enough to figure it out!”) that there would be a tragedy, and it was obvious which character it would befall, and I was like “could we please have one thing that isn’t tragic!” but it was well done and so emotionally charged (slash manipulating no jk I’m okay) that I was pretty much ugly crying for the last 20 minutes. And sure that’s not the rarest occurrence during quality musical theatre but there does need to be a legitimate connection forged.
I was disappointed at first that it seems very much ‘play with music’ rather than ‘musical’, because aside from Laura Pitt-Pulver’s Act I solo, the music wasn’t actually driving story or fleshing out the characters; it was just using music to have music. But the second act’s songs were more purposeful, I think…or maybe I got less angry about it. Both good options! The first post-P.Pulver’s-sad-I-Want-song-to actually-be-about-the-action song (actually it was about half that song, because at first it seemed like another ‘let’s have someone in the ensemble grab a mic and just sing one of these songs’ but then it turned into actually being about the action in a nice little switcherooround) was a catchy super-belted number from LPP’s estranged girlfriend that we heard so much about (LPP’s Poppy (like my dog!) had talked incessantly about her ex Nicky but I knew immediately that it was a garl Nikki because no boys are called Nicky anymore but Z thought that was a well hidden surprise; I guess he didn’t realize the Nicky change of our generation). I was like ‘oh wow this chick has a super strong belt…this chick sounds familiar…THIS CHICK IS BLOODY ELLE!’ As in the best show we saw a few years back at the Fringe, Bloody Elle (real name Lauryn Redding)! So that was a lovely surprise.
The weaving together of the three well-balanced timelines feels fluid and unforced. Important historical events and political attitudes are noted, affecting the characters but not inserted forcibly or in a heavy-handed manner (hooray for storytelling and not the new wave of ‘here is what you should think!’ storyshouting). Like with our Liberian refugee family, the audience can remember for themselves how important it is for Britain to have open borders, and with our coal miner ’60s men railing against Thatcher, audiences can think ‘were some of these men in Billy Elliot’. The ways the stories connect (or not! no spoilers!) are initially revealed with subtlety that was a breath of fresh air in modern playwriting. Even though this theatre feels enormous (and breathable! all this air!) and the show tries to fill that space with loud noise and some big production numbers, it ends up feeling like an intimate little show that cuts you real deep, Shrek, which is pretty special.
INFO
SATSE (fun to say!) plays the Gillian Lynne theatre until August 3.
I LOVE this theatre. All the seats have decent legroom and more importantly, they have really high backs, so no one coughs into your hair.
Sharon D. Clarke is in Blues in the Night & That’s Probably All You Need to Know
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Blues in the Night, playing at London’s Kiln Theatre in Kilburn until September 7.
Before we get into specifics about this revue-style show, I need to share two things. First, Husbo & I went to a cheeky weekday matinee so we were ready for the old-white-people chatterboxing that comes with the territory. But the show opens with a single musician in spotlight playing the saxophone, and as soon as he blared out one strong note, an old lady not close to me said at full volume “oh you know I love the sax”. I mean. We were not ready for that. We were in for quite an experience. Old biddies LOVE THEM SOME TALKING.
The second thing is that whenever I say/think/type this title, my head goes “blues is in the niiiii-iii-ii-ii-ight, blues is in the niiiii-iii-ii-ii-ight” like “Groove is in the heart” you get it. Okay I guess I didn’t *need* to share that.
Blues in the Night is a 1980s revue of bluesy standards from well before then (mostly Bessie Smith, like at least half). It “takes place” in 1938 in a run-down Chicago hotel, and it’s “about” three down-on-their-luck women – one older, one middle I guess, and one younger – and one man. The previous phrases suggesting there’s a story are in quotes because this is a revue, like Ain’t Misbehavin, that does not have a story. But unlike the enjoyable Ain’t Misbehavin, in which they were cool just putting on a killer fun show and accepting that there was no story or characters, Blues does attempt to establish characters and a whisper-thin outline of a background story, but that makes it even more obvious that there is none and kind of awkwardly cringey when they do weird ‘character things’.
I looked on the wikipedia page for some info and it says Blues is actually about these three women and the one “snake of a man” who has screwed them all over. I did NOT get that. The one man, Clive Rowe, seemed more to just be filling a role of ‘man’ in each song when needed, not that he was actually the man involved with these three women. It doesn’t make sense to me that he would have a sexual history with the three of them because, I don’t know how to say this nicely but he doesn’t exactly scream ‘womanizer’. I think we can chalk him up to being miscast if that’s what they were trying to go for (his singing was fine), along with the youngest woman, Gemma Sutton, who I loved in The Rink but is wrong here since her character’s songs simply do not fit her voice.
As for the other half of the cast, they acquit themselves more successfully but are also given weird things to do to establish some semblance of a character instead of just being allowed to sing the damn songs. Debbie Kurup, who we last saw in Sweet Charity, plays the middle woman who apparently has a fancy past but is now struggling living in this hotel and sings various songs about her fancy past and current troubles, as they all do. But like, I think at one point she was in the background doing heroin??? I mean, why? There’s no story! That is very unnecessary! And then she sells her fur coat to a waiter? Just why.
And that brings us to the fourth member of this cast, the great Sharon D. Clarke, probably the greatest West End musical theatre actress right now. The show is worth seeing just to hear her sing a super long depressing version of Bessie Smith’s “Wasted Life Blues”, so incredibly moving and fantastic that I could easily have murdered the two old men whose obnoxious ringtones blasted out during it (one even got up from the front to take his call I CANNOT). While Clarke seems to be enjoying herself and is, as always, killing it, they also have her do some ridiculous,unnecessary ‘character-building’ stuff like singing an entire song with food-based double entendres (does it count as a double entendre if it’s as obvious and unsophisticated as repeatedly joking about a man’s sausage?) and fanning her hoo-ha that it made me uncomfortable to look directly at her. I wish this show was either an actual story or just a straightforward review of good songs instead of being in some weird nether region.
This show, awkward as it is, was actually nominated for a Tony Award for Best Musical – but it was a weak year. I mean Cats won.
Although it was pretty slow at times and pretty heavy on the fremdschamen, Blues has some good musical moments, namely whenever Clarke gets a non-sausagey solo (that “Wasted Life Blues” deserves its own show, with a real story and a real character for her to play, it was that good) and whether the four cast members join together in a number, like in the exciting title song. Fun fact, that song, “Blues in the Night”, was nominated for a Best Original Song Oscar in 1942, along with “Chattanooga Choo Choo”. People expected one of those two to win, but Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammy Dos surprised everyone with a win for “The Last Time I Saw Paris”. Even funner fact, Kern was kinda pissed that he won an Oscar for a song that wasn’t written specifically for the movie it was in so he had the rules changed! He changed the Academy Award rules for original songs (they must be written specifically for the movie) because he was so mad he won one. I mean. That’s more interesting than anything in this show, I hate to say.
INFORMATION
Blues in the Night is playing at the Kiln Theatre until September 7. It’s a two-act, of 50 minutes each, 20 minute interval. I think there are enough clunkers that could be cut that it could be a one-act 80 minute show if they had the power to change it. Or just have a Sharon concert, really. But it’s worth catching her if you’re a fan before Broadway steals and keeps her.
AUDIENCE
I can’t even describe how much they were all talking and at full volume. Man alive they love to talk. One guy around us was humming along to the songs and man I get that these are your jams from childhood but the least you could do is hum in the right key.
