Sweet Treats in London

It’s been a very long term. I've barely managed to see any of my friends from home and it seems we’re all just completely bogged down by the dreaded third year workload. However, for me, last weekend marked the beginning of the end (for this term at least), and even better, the beginning of Christmas! Yes I know it’s mid-November, and no I am not ashamed. I will proudly own up as one of those Christmas loving needs-two-months-to-build-up-excitement types, I always have been and always will be. For me, Christmas is about family, friends, great food, and fun Christmas outings, and this is definitely what this weekend was all about.

On Saturday morning Harriet and I had arranged to have brunch and as the local Londoner I left it up to her to pick the place. She did NOT disappoint! She picked a place I’d never heard of called Honey&Co near Warren Street station. Now I’m one of those controlling weird people who likes to look up the entire menu of a place and take at least 3 days to mull over what I’m going to have – I’m just far too indecisive to choose on the spur of the moment. It’s a problem. However, the Honey&Co website is pretty basic and strange to navigate, with no menu, so alas I’d have to risk the anxiety of choosing on the day.

In the end, this website turned out to reflect the intimate, friendly atmosphere of the café/restaurant. Despite being very tucked away and subtle, the place was packed and we were lucky we’d booked. All the staff were really friendly and accommodating and I felt slightly like I was in someone’s living room rather than a restaurant. However – the best part was, of course, the food. We were recommended ‘the big breakfast’, and it was an AMAZING choice. At £12.95 per person it’s a complete bargain, and it is absolutely perfect for such an indecisive person like me. I should mention brunch in particular is very tricky as I can never choose between the sweet and savoury option – so this combination was a dream come true.

After a few sips of our rose and cinnamon tea we were bombarded with mini plates of Israeli mezze. On the savoury side we had houmous, garlic yogurt, pittas and breads, curried carrots, feta salad and olives, whilst for the sweet tooth there was hands down the best granola I’ve ever tasted (and I am a granola fiend) with yogurt and berries, and delicious varieties of jam. After ALL this we then chose our own option from the main menu – Harriet went for a harrissa sausage roll with a fried egg, whilst revealing that she’d NEVER had a fried egg before – just IMAGINE. After some heavy debating I went for poached eggs baked with wilted spinach and yogurt served with potato bread soldiers – simple but delicious. The eggs were the perfect amount of runniness for me, although I like them preeeetty undercooked so you may want to specify if you prefer a less liquidy egg (yes I know I’m so gross). The combination of the tart yogurt and spices with the creamy textures of the egg and spinach was just right – I could not have made a better choice!

Despite this immense feast, we couldn’t help being tempted by the beautiful array of cakes on display – we’ll blame it on our dangerous seating position RIGHT by the counters. We decided to share a coconut and chocolate cake (so much restraint). I’m not usually a coconut fan but it was actually very subtle and complimented the richness of the chocolate sponge perfectly. A great end to a three course brunch!

Once I had recovered from the morning banquet (and having been further plied with cakes at my sister’s house) we headed to Covent Garden to watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory the musical at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane for my little sister’s 10^th birthday. I’d been really excited about this for the whole week, it’s one of my favourite Roald Dahl books and I was so excited to see how the Wonka World would be translated onto stage. When we got there I realised it hadn’t just been translated onto the stage – the whole foyer of the theatre was decked out in Wonka merchandise and chocolates and really got us in the mood.

We were lucky enough to be sitting in the Royal Box, right at the edge of the stage, I’ve never been so close to the stage before and it was such fun experience actually being able to SEE the faces on stage (a novelty for me even with my glasses on). The whole performance was just really fun, family-friendly, and often very funny – I barely stopped smiling from start to finish. But what really blew me away was the set. The way they’d constructed Charlie’s home – his grandparents’ bed, the falling down walls – and Wonka’s factory – the chocolate garden, the nut testing room, the glass elevator – made it feel like they had plucked it right out of my imagination. The oompa-loompas were also a major highlight and really cleverly done (I could never explain how) to create the illusion of their shortness. However, the real highlight was the curtain call. A steward came into our box and asked the woman next to us to stand up for a minute – next time we turned round Willy Wonka was sitting in her seat chatting to us! He did his curtain call from our box, no doubt slightly marred by our severe blushing in the spotlight, but still a really cute personal touch which just topped off a really feel-good evening.

I can’t promise a chat with Wonka for everyone, but I can guarantee a great evening out – get tickets here

Edward II at The National Theatre

For the majority of my degree I have been a not so slight Shakespeare obsessive. There’s really nothing better than the multi-layered plots, complex characters, and stunning language of any one of Shakespeare’s plays. With this in mind, for my third year Special Author I chose Christopher Marlowe. There are all sorts of crazy rumours suggesting Marlowe faked his own death at the age of 26 and went on to become Shakespeare. The reality of it is, we know almost nothing about Marlowe and his life. The majority of his works were only performed and printed after his death, and even his name was of uncertainty until relatively recent years. What I’ve come to adore about Marlowe is his investment in language, and the ways he can translate Classical traditions and influences onto his own stage, which can in turn be translated onto the modern stage. It is a truly magical transition to study.

Marlowe’s plays are rarely performed, so whenever one of them pops up it’s an exciting opportunity to see how his hugely adaptable and often ambiguous script has been interpreted. I’m clearly not the only one who thinks this, because when I went to see Edward II at the National Theatre a couple of weeks ago, the theatre was completely packed. And it’s a big theatre! I’d never been to the National Theatre before so it was a real treat. Its mixture of a modern foyer with various exhibitions, restaurants and cafes, with the more traditional stage areas makes it fun, inviting and exciting whilst retaining the much loved old-fashioned feel of a trip to the theatre. Oh, and it goes pink at night – amazing!

In a nutshell, Edward II is a tragedy/history play based on the King Edward II who faces mutiny from his advisors and eventual torture and death for retrieving his lover Gaveston from exile and running riot in the kingdom, neglecting both his duties, and his wife and son. The play enjoyed a revival in the early 90s, when there was a lot of discourse and debate surrounding homosexuality and AIDS. Edward and Gaveston are often seen as homosexual martyrs, especially in Derek Jarman’s haunting and graphic film adaptation of 1991.

This production has received very mixed reviews, most are negative. In a particularly damning review from The Telegraph, one of the main points of contention is the comedy of the production, and I am inclined to agree. The entire performance was extremely farcical, Edward reminded me of King Richard in the Disney version of Robin Hood – a childish king who sucks his thumb and takes advice from a snake. Need I say more?

The majority of the first half consisted of him and Gaveston running around the stage shrieking with laughter and causing havoc. Meanwhile, the down-trodden neglected Queen Isabella struts around sulkily, champagne and cigarette in hand, berating her poor lot in life whilst her child runs at her heels filling up her glass at any opportunity. This comical vibe is all well and good if you’re just out for a fun evening at the theatre – but to make such extreme comedy out of what was originally a profound, tragic and controversial work seems rather too bold and brash.

Having said this, the second half is completely contrastingly dark and sombre. We are suddenly confronted with the extreme Marlovian brutality that was expected, but its clash with such a comic, slapstick first part undermines it – whether there is a point trying to be made here, I failed to understand, no matter which way I looked at it.

The mish-mash of Renaissance and modern costumes seemed completely random – whilst Edward was in traditional King’s clothes, Gaveston was in a leather jacket and jeans, and Edward’s brother-turned-sister was in a feminine trouser suit. Indeed, the sex change of Edward’s brother Kent as well as one of the advisors, Pembroke, to women, didn’t seem to have much lasting impact. The presence of two screens on either side of the stage which depicted various scenes was a point of interest, but again, where was it going? In short, I felt as though I was being confronted with as many experimental theatrical devices as possible, all on the cusp of making an interesting point, but none quite reaching one, rendering them pretty much obsolete.

Despite what may seem a wholly negative review, I did actually enjoy the performance! As a reviewer and a literature student I undeniably found a lot of the devices hard to get past, but once I let go of expectations I was able to enjoy the play just as a dramatic exhibit of love and suffering. The use of Gaveston’s actor as Edward’s murderer who sodomises him with a burning rod conveyed the homosexual take they were aiming at – however the lack of physical engagement between Gaveston and Edward throughout the play illustrated a prudishness at actually carrying this out, which was again frustrating.

I was certainly moved at the end by Edward’s son’s (now the King) final speech: standing centre-stage, he calls out commands and orders to an empty stage. The pessimism and anxieties regarding power, control, and the monarchy that is so Marlovian are certainly highlighted here – if the only influence that is taken from Marlowe himself.

A Midsummer Night's Dream at The Noel Coward Theatre

Another weekend, another Shakespeare play. I feel extremely lucky at the moment to be enjoying so many trips to the theatre – some cultural, some less so (I am extremely excited to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory the Musical for my sister’s 10^th birthday in a few weeks…), nonetheless, the theatre is always a great day out. This weekend it was time for the hugely well reviewed A Midsummer Night’s Dream, starring

David Walliams and Sheridan Smith. And yes, I am one of those people who gets ridiculously star struck at even the smallest of sightings (I once met Ben from A1 and got the picture of us printed on a t shirt. Don’t ask who A1 are), so needless to say I was very excited.

Admittedly I was less excited for the actual play than I should have been. A Midsummer Night’s Dream isn’t one of the plays that I’ve extensively studied, but I’d kind of put it down in the same category of ‘overdone comedy’ as Much Ado. Now don’t get me wrong, I love any Shakespeare play - some would say I’m TOO obsessed even - but I am a sucker for the dramatic, haunting tragedies, rather than the comic romances. All I can say in justification of what I have now – post weekend – realised was a far too rash and completely erroneous opinion, is that I have been subjected to far too many mundane and shallow performances of Shakespearean comedy. The comedy had never come alive for me before in the way that tragedy does, it was all so dated and coy.

Well, I can tell you for sure, ‘dated’ and ‘coy’ are probably the two LEAST appropriate words to describe this incredible production. Instead, I’d probably go with hilarious and raunchy, saucy and hysterical, side-splitting and sexy…you get the picture. To start with, there were absolutely no null scenes, no annoying actors, no slow, dragging speeches – the talent of the entire cast and crew was outstanding. I would go as far to say this was the best stage production I’ve ever seen (aside from the pantomime obviously, although at times slightly reminiscent…more on that later), it really flew by and I felt a genuine pang of sadness when I realised it was coming to a close.

Now I realise I need to justify these bold statements, and I’ll try very willingly. First up: the two big names lived up to high expectations. Walliams, as Bottom, was the perfect camp comic archetype – to be honest it’s not hard to imagine his performance: just think of him in Little Britain, or on Britain’s Got Talent, or in Come Fly With Me…you get the picture. He did play his standard character, but I would go with the ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ theory in this case. His character suited the play perfectly and seeing it live was even more hilarious.

Sheridan Smith was more of a surprise, I’d never really seen her on anything except Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps, so the transition from pub loving, tracksuit wearing 20-something to glamorous, bohemian queen of the fairies was never going to be a predictable one. Her performance turned out to be really captivating. Her husky, soothing voice delivered any lines with the perfect touch of emotion – whether she was angrily railing against Oberon, lovingly caressing Bottom, or commandingly addressing her fairies, her enchanting charisma was consistent. This was highlighted further by the general atmosphere of the fairy world – it was somewhere in between a boho summer festival and the Christmas pantomime. Dressed in minimal clothing with dreaded hair and sunglasses, the fairies pranced around the stage smoking, singing and lounging. The contrast between this and the more erratic, hyperbolic atmosphere of the lovers I felt emphasised Shakespeare’s mockery of the hysteria of the human characters – as they leap around the stage manically, the fairies retain constant control of both the humans and their own laidback lifestyle.

Now onto the true (unexpected) highlight for me, and who I felt were the unsung heroes of the performance: the four lovers. Performing aside one of the most famous comedians in Britain today must be somewhat of a daunting prospect, but this was at no point evident in any of the four lovers’ performances – they were just as hilarious, if not more so at points. Their scenes together basically consisted of each running after the next across the stage, increasingly wearing less and less clothes. Lysander and Demetrius ended up in no more than tight white boxers – much to mine, my mum and my sister’s delight! Everything was exaggerated, everything was overtly sexual, everything was over the top, everything was brilliant. From Helena predatorily mounting Demetrius in desperation, to spellbound Lysander screaming in his former lover Hermia’s face ‘I hate thee, you DWARF!’, every single scene had me in stitches. The overstated sexuality in this performance transformed phrases like ‘make love’ from the Shakespearean vocal meaning to the physical act it is today – the lovers became contemporary teenagers whose storyline anyone could understand, and everyone was laughing at, despite the potential language barrier.

I said it before and I’ll say it again – this is probably the best stage performance I have ever seen. I never really knew a theatrical piece could be quite SO laugh-out-loud funny. I wouldn’t hesitate to see it again today, tomorrow, the next day! Nothing was lacking for me, every single actor brought something exciting to it. You could tell they were working their absolute hardest to deliver the best performance possible – and they did!

It’s not on for much longer, and tickets are extremely popular so I’d recommend getting them here asap! Alternatively, Henry V featuring Jude Law (YUM) is up next, if anyone wants to get me tickets….

London Weekend Part 2: Macbeth at The Globe

Having spent the interim between lunch and the theatre exploring Angel, having some frozen yogurt, and a glass of wine or two in a very cosy local pub, we made our way over to Southbank for the main event!

Despite being a self-professed Shakespeare lover, much to my shame I have never visited The Globe before – so by the time this weekend finally came round I was ridiculously excited. The Globe does not stick out in the modern London cityscape as I thought it would – as you walk further along Southbank it seamlessly transforms into Shakespeare-land, with statues and signs featuring the likes of Francis Bacon, so that when you approach The Globe, it just feels natural.

After having a little look around the shop (a little, chilled wander for Angus, a rather too excitable dash around for me) we made our way into the grounds surrounding the actual theatre.  Angus had opted for standing tickets, said to be the best way to see a play there, so we took on our roles of Shakespearean groundlings and queued up outside the doors. Once in, we established a great place almost right at the front, definitely within touching distance of the actors (not that I would EVER do that…). My worries of some sort of Shakespeare induced mosh pit full of pushy punters were quickly diminished, everyone was very polite and chilled out and we had more than enough space to enjoy the performance.

The performance began with an eerie drum performance followed by the witches’ first scene. Far from the scraggly old Scottish women in decrepit pointy hats that has so often been the image of Macbeth, these three were beautiful and strong young women – and funny too. Their sexuality was both emphasised and subverted to make fools of the egotistical military heroes such as Macbeth and Banquo, who they fundamentally control. The presence of these three women throughout the play on the balcony above the stage, hiding around pillars on the stage, or orchestrating a song, really highlighted their role as the puppet masters of the action.

Macbeth himself was not only extremely easy to look at, charming, handsome, rugged…I could go on…but he was also strikingly modern. Technically nothing had been updated about the performance, they were all in traditional dress, they used Shakespeare’s script word for word, it wasn’t one of those contemporary interpretations – but that’s what made me realise: Shakespeare doesn’t NEED updating. His pure words performed on a stage speak to an eternal audience, unbound by geography, gender, class or time. The performance showed me that a single phrase featured in the middle of a long speech which is easy to skim over or dismiss as just a linguistic product of its time can actually be one of the most crucial lines of the play – conveying precisely what the character is about and how this relates to us the audience.

Sadly it’s impossible to describe every part of the play – but a couple of parts really stood out, on top of what I’ve already mentioned. The Globe is, and always has been, an open air theatre (luckily the weather held out for us), in the majority of Shakespearean or other Renaissance plays there are numerous references to the weather and the heavens, at which point it was likely the actors would gesture to the sky – jokes about the elements or the technicalities of the stage were common and popular. However, in this production, this tradition was updated. Throughout the performance there were planes flying over, muting the actors’ words, and a particularly endearing and unexpected moment was when Macbeth actually referenced the inconvenience of this during one of his speeches. The pure unpredictability and accidental nature of this little addition was just another one of those nice aspects that brings you closer to the actors and their performance, and reminds you of the universality of the theatre.

Now, ghosts can be a bit of a taboo with regards to Shakespeare. I’ve learnt throughout my education that everyone has their own preference of how a ghost should be presented, from being physically on the stage to speaking off stage to the modern fashion of video footage and sound effects. I’m not hugely fussed about it - as long as it goes with the tone of the performance and there isn’t a madman in a white sheet running around the stage, it’s fine by me. Despite my lack of preference, I reckon Banquo’s ghost scene would have satisfied most fussy customers. His physical presence made the scene both terrifyingly haunting and hilarious at the same time. Banquo remained silent for the entire scene, merely following Macbeth around as he erratically leapt over chairs and scrambled around the dining table. The on-stage presence of the ghost made the scene all the more comic as the audience could see what the on-lookers could not – what was causing Macbeth to act so insanely - but his constant eye contact with Macbeth equally hinted that it could indeed all be in his head. This combination of comic and sinister devices, the stark contrast between Macbeth’s slapstick hysteria and Banquo’s eerie silence, encapsulated the entire performance for me. Not only did this production deliver the genre-defying plot and techniques that I feel so define the genius of Shakespeare, but they brought it to life in a modern context, without actually BRINGING it into a modern context – it proved that four centuries on, Shakespeare can still be enjoyed, and refreshed, by all.

Sadly, we caught one of the last performances, but The Globe are constantly showing great performances, I would go every week if I could! Find tickets for the latest shows here

Pride and Prejudice - Regent's Park Open Air Theatre

Emma, Sense and Sensibility, Northanger Abbey….you really can’t beat a bit of Jane Austen. When I saw this play version in Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre advertised, I could not resist. I booked tickets with my sisters for the next available performance, and loaded with crudités, homemade houmous, and a blanket, we excitedly made our way over there on Tuesday night.

Adapted for the stage by Simon Reade, and directed by Deborah Bruce, for me (and probably most of the audience) this production had a LOT to live up to. I am a massive Austen fan, and I find her novels are some of the only ones that film adaptations can really do justice to – assuming her satirical hilarity is maintained throughout. Everyone has their personal favourite, usually involving Colin Firth or Kiera Knightley. Personally, I’m in the Kiera Knightley boat – it’s become somewhat of a tradition to lie on the sofa on New Year’s Day in a less-than-healthy state and delight in the period costumes, the dancing, the sexily broody Mr Darcy, and obviously Kiera’s go-to ‘sticking-my-chin-out-to-convey-emotion’ face. But I digress, this is not a review on my favourite film (sob). However, it was necessary to express my extreme adoration for the film to convey my expectations, which were, it’s safe to say………………….COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY FULFILLED (nice bit of suspense there).

Hidden away in a corner of Regent’s park, we felt like we were walking into an enchanted forest. We’re talking gigantic trees delicately fitted with fairy and tea lights surrounding the stage in a semi-circle against a backdrop of a beautiful summer’s evening. The stage itself was circular, with a balcony in the middle. Much to my delight, it rotated with each scene change (and even during certain scenes), giving swift, unnoticeable transitions, and making sure each member of the audience got every perspective of the on-stage action.

Now onto the important stuff – the actual performance. I have quite an immense amount to say about this, mainly because I loved it so much, so to prevent this from turning into some sort of dissertation I’m just going to do a run down of the principle characters:

Mrs Bennett – Initially I was apprehensive, I wasn’t sure if I could deal with her shrillness and exaggerated acting for the entire duration, however you soon come to realise that Mrs Bennett cannot be played in any other way. The whole POINT of her is exaggeration, and Rebecca Lacey captured her insufferability and fickle nature absolutely perfectly. I did not stop laughing/grinning throughout the entire second half.

Lizzie – This Lizzie gave a fresh perspective to her, and I have a sneaky feeling perhaps more what Austen may have intended (obviously pure speculation, but ya know). She was less quietly stubborn and a bit petulant, and more headstrong and wilful, making her somewhat rapid transition from utter disgust to unconditional love for Mr Darcy slightly more understandable.

Mr Darcy – At the beginning, a tad too posh and stiff for my liking. Obviously he’s meant to be like this, but I felt a bit more humour wouldn’t have gone amiss, and his aggressiveness came across as slightly too vicious at times rather than endearingly tongue-in-cheek.

Mr Bingley – Undoubtedly, in any production he is always one of my favourite characters – it’s probably down to the way he’s written (bashful, nervous, slightly clumsy) so it would be hard to get him wrong. But I especially loved the subtle touches Rob Heaps gave to the character. Period adaptations so often get stifled and trapped in the age they were written – we all know that generic tone of voice we used to put on when forced to ‘perform’ (drone out) Shakespeare extracts at school – but the characters were not afraid to deliver the lines in the modern, casual way that we would speak today, outlining the absolute timelessness of Austen’s writing.

Mr Collins – Completely and utterly pantomime. But I loved it! His acting was so physical that you couldn’t help but laugh, and it was a happy relief from some of the slightly-too-long serious scenes (namely involving Catherine de Bourgh). His comic timing was completely spot on and, like Mrs Bennett, whilst playing the surface character Austen has created, he managed to leave enough space for the audience to infer his own self-satire – something I’m sure Jane would have been very satisfied with.

Mr Bennett – For me, the only downside of the production as a whole. His extreme switches between comical, happy, angry, depressed, and even slightly nihilistic were just a bit too much, they made him impossible to grasp as a rounded character and he didn’t really fulfil the constant, family figurehead that I was expecting.

Bennett sisters - Added that sense of hysteria which is so present in Austen’s satire of social climbing, small-village communities. Think Kardashian, but slightly less annoying and a lot more endearing.

All in all, I loved this – I was beaming from start to finish, and I was pleasantly surprised by the extent to which it actually made me laugh out loud. Its unforced and natural mixture of Austen’s setting, style and characters with a contemporary, updated view was completely graceful and reminded me exactly why I adore snuggling up with a cup of tea and an Austen novel so much.

Now….where’s a copy of Mansfield Park?

See it now: Get tickets here, we went for the cheapest, were on the back row right at the top and could see absolutely everything!