Catherine Bennett resumes the weekly look at the performing arts world, with the sad end of Jerusalem, the luck of a cabbie, and French revolt. Do you hear the people sing?
Adam Alcock reviews Nigel Kennedy playing Vivaldi's Four Seasons and his own Four Elements at York Opera House.
Catherine Bennett highlights the trends in the performing arts world today.
Jonathan Cridford reviews 'Ghosts', one of the Freshers' plays for this year.
Yellow Leaf Theatre was founded by a group of professional actors over the age of 60 in 2002 and largely consists of writers and actors of a 'certain age'. Perhaps this was the problem; I'm not exactly their target demographic. Nevertheless, the rest of the audience, most of whom were in the more mature age bracket, looked little more impressed than I did.
The premise of the play was that the audience were members of the 'York Writers' Circle' and Scribbler (Alan Meadows) was here to give a motivational talk about the life of a writer. His Spouse, played by Vanessa Rosenthal, was there to offer support and set up the props. This quickly and predictably descended into a series of embarrassing squabbles between the pair, which lacked any realism for me. I'm sure the awkward tension created was intentional, but I just found it uncomfortable. It reminded me of nervously watching a pair of drunken relatives at a family party, especially when they started singing...
The play's redeeming feature was the choice of actor Alan Meadows to play Scribbler. Although his 'Grumpy Old Men' style was a little tired, he delivered a few genuinely very funny lines, and he clearly put his all into the performance (the character's blood pressure problems didn't seem so fictional at times). As the play progressed, his life story as the Yorkshire lad who grew up to become 'nearly famous' gained depth as we learnt about the highs (writing for Emmerdale) and lows (his alcoholic years).
"My typewriter kept getting clogged with vomit"
Scribbler's anecdotes seemed believable, perhaps because his story seems to follow a similar path to that of writer James Robson; both Robson and Scribbler wrote works for The Archers, Emmerdale, and The Royal Shakespeare Company. Perhaps Robson is Scribbler and this play is a vehicle to tell of his own brushes with fame and dissatisfaction at times with the lifestyle of a writer.
The second half improved on the first, with some quick one-liners and funny anecdotes, and the audience welcomed the change. Most notable were writing scripts for Crossroads ("My typewriter kept getting clogged with vomit"), Spouse's account of one of her husband's affairs, and Scribbler complaining that his parents let him down by providing him with such a secure childhood, because it has left him with nothing to write about.
I think the strength of this play lay in the more serious parts, especially Rosenthal's monologues (when Scribbler was conveniently out on a toilet break), and in describing the hard times the pair had faced. These parts supplied interesting insight into the unglamorous life of the self-employed writer, struggling to provide for his family whilst attempting to maintain his creative vision. While the humour served as a relief from the gravity of these darker moments, it didn't add anything for me, and a lot of it was painfully unfunny.
After a rather protracted conclusion and an embarrassing 'questions from the audience' session, we finally escaped the studio and gladly made our way to Toffs. And they say today's youth isn't cultured...
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