My blog is pants...

Random stuff from the Bronster... especially good to read if you happen to like me.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

Farndale - LAST NIGHT

What fun! I enjoyed this show every night, as was told to me by my stagemanager. But he's right. I couldn't stop giggling at some bits every night. The lighting guys said they hadn't seen a director laugh at their own play so much. Haha. Ahh well. Brian took some fabulous pictures for me, which I will put on here I think, a couple of there (there are a hundred and fifty!).. Shows how much I've grown up, I used to not let anyone take pictures unless I was doing it ;) Such the perfectionist that I am. My boys enjoyed it. Which was good. In fact, I've not heard any negative things at all! Even from over hearing! I still stand by my suggestion to the artistic committee that they do one a year - the June spot would be ideal as they get crappy audiences then anyway, we could probably get a cult following! Ahh well... their loss. Another fab thing about last night... I may have got some work out of it! There is a group in Leyland after a director for a youth show, and I should get paid! I have to name my price aparantly... hmmm... AND I get to chose my show... can you all guess what I want to do ;) I'll give you a clue:

The picture from last night was just as scary as all the others... it actually looked like he was going for some sort of Titanic lady on a couch thing.

Sooooooo, fairwell Farndale, Hello Godspell? Who knows, I hope I can do it, it would be my dreeeeeeam. Already texted Sean to say he should go for it if it happens ;) He's the little guy in blue in that vid, he's nearly 18 now! He's a gem.
I'm a bit lost today, but I wont be for long I'm sure! I will shortly invent something to do while Chris is on the radio (

ps... here is a review that my pal Derek wrote:

by Leonard Pinth-Garnell, theatre critic for the Farndale Farmer’s Gazette

One cannot expect flawless, seamless productions within amateur dramatics. Thusly, when one does come across such a production, both you and those you come across won’t soon forget. Such was my experience last night, with our own Townswomen’s Guild Dramatic Society’s Murder Mystery. Rarely have we been treated to such a riveting, entertaining evening!
The direction was by one BRAINNE EDGE, whom I later learned to my considerable surprise was a young slip of a girl, and I was amazed that the little woman could maintain such a strong hold on such a stellar company as ours. But hold she did, and hold well, in the true spirit of the English Rose, and I look forward to the day when she’s called back once more from the kitchen into the man’s world for another shot.
The mood was set beforehand by a showing of our beloved Mrs Beasley’s holiday film of the Isle of Man, an intriguing piece of cinema verite that illustrated the beauty and, dare I say it, raw passion of the Manx lifestyle, before ending with the mysterious question, “Has anyone got any cellotape?” How often have we asked ourselves this in our own lives? So when we enter the play proper, we are already moist, indeed wet, with anticipation and intrigue, And who among us doesn’t want to be wet as we watch thespians at it on stage?
The set was a minimalist mélange, a marvellous nudge to let us focus on the story, but still possessing unforgettable attention to detail, such as the fallen curtains and the upside-down fireplace, both representing the topsy-turvy state of the household following the unseen father’s death. And the replacement of the traditional sounds of the telephone and doorbell with the barking dog was clearly symbolising the unleashing of the Dogs of War, heralding the intense conflict to come. In addition, the mixture of contemporary and modern props lent a timeless quality to the play, reminding us that such horrific events can and do occur in today’s world.
But the true music of a play is made by the players, and such is the quality of our Society’s cast that we could happily watch them on a bare stage playing with themselves alone. Our own PHOEBE REECE was a cavalcade of character, putting the likes of DeNiro to shame with a seamless series of scenes as Clarissa, Patricia, Leticia, and Mr Goodbody. Of particular note was her buxom French maid Regine, giving us dollops of savaloy-faire and heapings of Frenchicity. Why has she not been snatched and carried off to the West End, or even Broadway? Modern theatre is in dire need of more snatches!
FELICITY JOHNSON juggled the important twin roles of Pawn the Butler and Colonel King with the adroitability of a six-armed puppet master, the deliberate mixing of the characters during the play a subtle swipe at the breaking down of the class barriers in the 20th Century, and her Pawn appearing and disappearing at will and adding non-sequitors representing a Pandora’s Piñata, ready to burst open and shower chaos upon us all.
The estimable AUDREY PHILPOTT was like an acting Colossus, striding the twin columns of Pepsicacity and Genius with her roles as Doreen Bishop, Violet, Mrs King and Joan, moving from Mother Figure to Femme Fatale with chameleonic acumen. She invested each and every role with a verisimilitudinal verve, offering forgotten lines and stumblings with a touch of authenticity worthy of Stanislavsky.
Sweet THELMA GREENWOOD brought an intensity to her roles of Daphne Bishop and Rose, an intensity that rivets one to the seat and pins your eyelids open, forcing you to watch and be blinded by the brilliance of her performance. But, like a nitrous oxide-suffused Icarus, one cannot help but happily fly too close to this star in our midst, and be burned away.
The pivotal role of Inspector O’Reilly was to be taken by SYLVIA FROBISHER, but due to unforeseen circumstances was replaced at the last minute by our own GORDON PUGH, in his first stage appearance. And what a diamond in the rough we have found here! He filled Sylvia’s shoes with all the spunk he could muster, and muster he did, providing O’Neill’s character with a befuddled, distracted demóis in keeping with the breakneck disorder that the story clearly demanded, his many losses of what to say a neo-Fraudian nuance one rarely sees outside of a professional theatre production. The moment when he deductioned the killer made me skip a heartbeat!
Topped with a wonderful mid-play fashion show and a riveting quiz, the evening was an outstanding success, and I cannot shower the cast and crew with enough kudos! (Oh, and a special thanks for the recipe for crab balls, which I tried out as soon as I got home, receiving a standing ovation from my palate. It’s those moments when we’re touched unexpectedly that we remember forever)

Leonard Pinth-Garnell


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