Blithe Behaviour

It occurred to me recently that I've neglected to blog about something that happened back at the beginning of March.

Back in January/February, I became aware of a production of Blithe Spirit running at the Gielgud theatre. I'm pretty sure I've seen a movie version of that and, while I'm quite keen on theatre, the play itself wasn't necessarily a massive draw. What actually sold me a pair of tickets (because I was bringing my girlfriend along) was that the cast included the legendary Angela Lansbury.

Now, in all honesty, I'm only even aware of Angela Lansbury largely because of the formulaic-but-fun US murder mystery show Murder, She Wrote. Considering she's a veteran of about 70 years in the business and over 100 roles on screens large and small, that's really not good going on my part. I think I've probably seen the much-despised version of The Lady Vanishes in which she plays Miss Froy, and I'm fairly sure I've seen her as Miss Marple... but I tend to associate her more with Jessica Fletcher than anything else.

Now, of course, I'm likely to associate her more with the doddering, probably fraudulent medium Madame Arcati in Blithe Spirit, if only because it's been so long since I've seen Murder, She Wrote and because she performs the part in her native English accent rather than the adopted American she picked up for her most enduring TV role.

The evening didn't get off to a great start as, despite being no stranger to theatre, I'd figured that the time on the ticket (7.30pm) was 'doors open' rather than 'performance begins' and we only arrived with about ten minutes to spare. We were directed down to one side of the theatre, but I realised that our seats were closer to the opposite side, so we wandered round the outside of the auditorium to get there.

There's a cliché about attending the theatre (or even the cinema) where you arrive late, and there's a seriously overweight person sitting right at the end of the row, who's reluctant to admit anyone else because it's uncomfortable (or merely inconvenient) for them to move...

Gentle reader, I can now say from personal experience that this does actually happen sometimes. The gentleman at the end of the row was even a cliché within the cliché, equipped with an old-fashioned lace fan stuffed into his shirt pocket, a thin goatee and the kind of whiney voice that borders on falsetto. Since I'd realised we were effectively late, I made a point of being polite when asking if we could get past, to our seats. His immediate response was to whine and suggest that we enter the row from the other end. I pointed out - again, politely and in a light, friendly tone - that our seats were closer to this end (which was to imply that we'd be inconveniencing far more people to enter from the other). He whined again as he got up and suggested again that we should enter from the other end, but did move aside to admit us. After him, we passed in front of maybe five or six others to get to our seat, when it would have been at least twice that number from the other side... though, admittedly, those people may have been less grumpy about it.

When the house lights came down and the play started, I became worried that a guy in the row in front of us would be giving a running commentary as, when the first line of dialogue was uttered on stage, all I heard was him saying "I can't hear what they're saying". Some people, seriously, should not ever consider attending the theatre if they're unable to prevent themselves self-narrating.

Granted, there seemed to be some issues with the speakers on the righthand side of the auditorium (yes, speakers - gone are the days when actors on stage are expected to project their voice to the Grand Circle). Any actor standing stage left tended to sound a little crackly or distorted. Everywhere else seemed fine, though I did find Angela Lansbury a bit difficult to follow sometimes - her speech was quieter than some of the others.

It was a very entertaining evening, as one would expect from a Noël Coward play featuring not only Angela Lansbury but Simon Jones (Arthur Dent from the old TV series of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy) along with Jemima Rooper (last seen by me in the supernatural 'thriller' Hex, about ten years ago), Janie Dee and Charles Edwards (both of whom looked familiar). It did seem remarkably dark for a comedy, and one could hardly describe the end as 'happy', but the performances throughout were excellent (if, occasionally, a little muffled). The highlight of the evening, for me, was when Madame Arcati (Lansbury) started careening around the stage, getting into her trance-state. At one point, I'd swear she was either going to start dancing the Robot... or possibly a bit of light breakdancing.

One of the most impressive aspects of the show was the lighting - whoever rigged it all did a fantastic job, with electric lights doing an amazing job of emulating variable daylight and flickering firelight. Half the time, it was so subtle I wasn't completely sure the light levels were actually changing until I concentrated on that rather than the play. Also, the way the set collapsed at the end (intentionally, unlike that incident at the Apollo!) was very well-handled.

Really must try to keep an eye on what's on in the theatres... Self-absorbed and inconsiderate patrons aside (and their numbers do seem to be on the increase) it's always a fun experience.