Sonnet Sunday at The Globe

With the sky threatening rain and the sun dipping behind the clouds, we pulled our coats tightly around us and cursed ourselves for not thinking to bring another layer. We were after all, about to spend hours on the unforgiving benches of The Globe. Shuffling through the hordes of people, we blinked as our eyes adjusted to the darkness. Our stomachs grumbling, we swept through the exhibition, stopping only to marvel at the Elizabethan instruments. The Underglobe, with its promise of sweet treats and edible goodness drew us to it.

Greed satisfied, we made our way to the Middle Gallery. To see so many people gathered together, to celebrate Shakespeare being spoken in over 20 different languages was a sight to behold. Almost every person was transfixed as sonnets were recited in Swiss German, Tamil, Catalan, Amharic and more. To learn how Shakespeare's work speaks to people from all over the world was so refreshing and it didn't matter than none of us understood every reading as each performance was delivered with such spirit and ardor. The audience was encouraged to voice their favourite sonnet lines in their native languages and to introduce themselves to someone from another part of the world, creating a sense of belonging and joint appreciation for The Globe and their Globe to Globe festival.

Sonnet Sunday was an incredible way to begin what is proving to be an exciting time at The Globe. We came away with a greater understanding and appreciation of Shakespeare's work and how he really did write for the masses. Looking through the festival brochure I am spoilt for choice. Romeo and Juliet in Brazilian Portuguese? Twelfth Night in Hindi? Hamlet in Lituanian? I should really act fast, I don't think the choices will be there for much longer!

All New People - Review

Sitting high up in the Dress Circle at the Duke of York's Theatre, I wondered how drawn into the action I would be. Almost every seat was filled and there was certainly excitement in the atmosphere; I guessed it was because within the next few minutes we would all be watching Zach Braff, the play's own writer, tread the boards. In the opening scene we are met by Charlie (Braff), standing on a chair in a Beach House on Long Beach Island, with a noose around his neck, dressed in a suit, smoking a joint. Powerful, yet it lacked punch somehow. Even as laughter rippled through the audience as the character attempted to, without hanging himself, flick ash into an out of reach ashtray, I found it difficult to relate. There was something too flippant about his supposed self sabotage. Such a heavy topic can lend itself to comedy but too often Braff's writing and Peter DuBois' direction felt painfully farcical. The tripping over beads and throwing crisps across the stage took away from Charlie's self hatred, at one point Charlie is even asked outright, in more of a shout than a nervous question, "Why do you want to kill yourself?" And when the audience finally discover the reason for his attempted suicide, it comes too late and personally, I had passed the point of needing to know.

The characterisation however is stronger; Braff succeeds in linking together four extremely eclectic characters whilst keeping their differences at the forefront of the action.  Emma (Eve Myles), a chatty Real Estate Agent is the first to arrive, interrupting what would have been Charlie's final act, Myron (Paul Hilton), a drug dealer and fireman arrives soon after and finally Kim (Susannah Fielding), a call girl from New York paid to cheer up Charlie. All three misfits succeed in adding humour and layers to the drama that unfolds piece by piece, interspersed by short snippets of film providing a hint of each of their back-storys; an interesting technique and a brave one, but I did feel it disrupted the flow of the action and made it difficult to empathise with the characters.

It is fair to say All New People is a refreshing piece of new writing, though there is definitely room for some tightening up of the script. Would I recommend going to see it? I suppose I would, if only to compare Braff's acting on stage to his on screen performances in Scrubs and Garden State, and as an alternative to the well established theatre available in the West End.

The Artist - Review

Having just won 'Best Motion Picture', 'Best Original Score' and 'Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture' at the Golden Globes and receiving four awards at the Critics Choice Movie Awards, The Artist is proving to be incredibly popular. So if you ever thought the classic movies were dull, then you will undoubtedly feel dubious about the story of silent movie star George Valentin. Be prepared for your skepticism to be erased by this wonderfully crafted piece of work. Marrying the old and new elements of film and entertainment, Michel Hazanavicius successfully unites an otherwise divided audience.

Beautifully shot and magnificently capturing 1920s Hollywood, Hazanavicius transports his audience into a world of glamour, fame, humour and heartache; without an actor uttering a single word. And yet this film is not entirely silent, there are two moments where Hazanavicius uses sound. I will not tell, but both are carried out with such elegance that the flow of the film is never broken, but merely enhanced.

Hazanavicius carries the theme of old vs. new throughout the film, with it being the major conflict faced by the protagonist (Valentin). Jean Dujardin does well as the lead male; without his comic timing and impeccable facial expressions the film would not be nearly as lovable as it is. The chemistry between Dujardin and leading lady Bérénice Bejo (Peppy Miller) is faultless, giving this film a charm and energy not to be missed. So if you are looking for a film that will make your eyes tear up with pity, make you laugh out loud and make you hide behind your hands, then make sure that this is the film you go and see this month.

Pigeon English - Review

For those who read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Stephen Kelman's writing style will be familiar to you. Written from the point of view of 11 year old Harrison Opoku (known to his friends as Harri), Kelman's debut novel is honest, fresh and at times, amusing. It is fair to say that Kelman has taken major risks with his first book; a talking pigeon, a child detective and London gangs to name a few. But despite its weaker moments, the book works. Based on the real life story of Damilola Taylor, it is essentially a murder mystery, told through the eyes of an innocent boy, recently moved to England from Ghana. At times the narrative is clunky and this may be down to the infusion of Ghana slang throughout, "Asweh" (I swear) and "hutious" (frightening) feature often. There is nothing new by way of Kelman's literary style, but what he may lack in originality he makes up for with a realistic representation of life in many criminal 'hotspots' around the globe. This lends itself to the innocence and tragic naiveté of the story, which will have you thinking about the book long after you've turned the final page.