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Canal Street and much more
I've been thinking a lot about why I like the Village so much. On Saturday night we went out in Warrington, to this bar called Brannigan's we'd already been to once. Very straight. Very, very straight. I felt out of place, really. I felt as if, if I checked out the ladies too much, someone might have a problem with that. I felt restrained and awkward.
But that's hardly gonna prevent me from having fun. We're talking about me here. Like![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yodah says, I can dance to anything, and mostly I will dance to anything if I put my mind to it. So there I went, dancing my little heart away... except you really can't do that without having guys come over and try to rub themselves against you. In everything but a platonic way. And you can't have fun dancing with them like you have fun dancing with gay guys; they're not there to have a good time, they're there to score. So while dancing you have to manage to fend them off, and trust me that's everything but an easy task. And let's face it, they just don't dance half as well and I think their motive is a big part of the reason. Gay guys don't necessarily dance well (though granted, many do), but those that bother dancing with you always dance fun. And dancing fun is the spirit I'm after!
Canal Street is a place of freedom, really. Not only is the music much better, but the people there are so different. You can be whoever the hell you are and nobody will say anything about it, and you can just go there and have fun and not be self-conscious. Well, I think I really should change that "you" in my last sentence to an "I," because many people who go there actually do feel horribly self-conscious. But I'm thinking of what Canal Street means to me: freedom and fun. And I'm gonna miss that so damn much.
Moving on swiftly, Anthony and Cleopatra on Saturday at the Royal Exchange was pretty good, nothing extraordinary though. My problem was mainly Cleopatra; she might have been a good actress but she failed to ensnare me as I expected her to, or rather as I thought she ought to. I think the play mostly paled in comparison with the production of Othello I'd seen at the Barbican in London a few years ago; I always kept the best memory of it and that one here just couldn't compete. There were some very good things in it, though, and seeing it after having read a chapter on jealousy and triangles in Vice Versa (that book with tons of research on bisexuality) made me read many things into some scenes. *smirk*
Julia (with whom I'd gone) and I plan on going to see Electra next; they transposed it to the Ireland of the fifties, an interesting choice (and if any of you is thinking of Jennifer Garner and going 'wtf?' I suggest you brush up on your antic myths, it's worth it). I have a strong suspicion that Clytemnestra's lover in this adaptation will in fact be a woman, since they are careful not to divulge Electra's mother's lover's gender in their formulations and the list of actors shows, apart from the "younger" actors, only two that are older, both of them women. So either her lover will be a woman, or a young man. Whichever it turns out to be, it's bound to be interesting, especially in such a place as this god-fearing Ireland. Funny coincidence, the director is called Jo (and she's a she). *grin*
I taped an adaptation of Strindberg's Miss Julie the other night (directed by Mike Figgis, with Saffron Burrows and Peter Mullan). It was brilliant. I didn't know the whole play, but in my first year of drama at Reims Uni I played Julie in one scene... and I adored it. I was actually very frustrated by the experience, because I loved the scene and acting it and my partner was bloody brilliant, but on the night of the performance we weren't as good as we usually were, and it actually showed. Which was a shame, 'cause for some of the rehearsals... there really was something. Anyway. It was frustrating that the one time we actually performed in front of an audience, we didn't do as good as we could.
Anyway, that movie was great. I think the play itself is brilliant, really, and the performances in the film do it justice. I bought the play and I'll be reading it as soon as I'm done with Julius Caesar. The film gave me another pang of longing for acting; I really do miss it. I wonder whether anything's going on at Nanterre Uni for drama-loving students. Hopefully so. Julie is so going up there in that list of roles I really do wish I could play some day, in an ideal world. The play is just so damned interesting. The thickness and complexity of feelings and emotions... Wow.
I taped Lars Van Triers' The Idiots last night. Is it as depressing as Dancer in the Dark and Dogville? Hopefully it's just as good.
And people keep advising me to go and see Stage Beauty, saying they think I might like it. Huh. No shit, Sherlocks. Clearly I haven't ranted enough about it, but my love for this film has not yet found its limit.
But that's hardly gonna prevent me from having fun. We're talking about me here. Like
yodah says, I can dance to anything, and mostly I will dance to anything if I put my mind to it. So there I went, dancing my little heart away... except you really can't do that without having guys come over and try to rub themselves against you. In everything but a platonic way. And you can't have fun dancing with them like you have fun dancing with gay guys; they're not there to have a good time, they're there to score. So while dancing you have to manage to fend them off, and trust me that's everything but an easy task. And let's face it, they just don't dance half as well and I think their motive is a big part of the reason. Gay guys don't necessarily dance well (though granted, many do), but those that bother dancing with you always dance fun. And dancing fun is the spirit I'm after!Canal Street is a place of freedom, really. Not only is the music much better, but the people there are so different. You can be whoever the hell you are and nobody will say anything about it, and you can just go there and have fun and not be self-conscious. Well, I think I really should change that "you" in my last sentence to an "I," because many people who go there actually do feel horribly self-conscious. But I'm thinking of what Canal Street means to me: freedom and fun. And I'm gonna miss that so damn much.
Moving on swiftly, Anthony and Cleopatra on Saturday at the Royal Exchange was pretty good, nothing extraordinary though. My problem was mainly Cleopatra; she might have been a good actress but she failed to ensnare me as I expected her to, or rather as I thought she ought to. I think the play mostly paled in comparison with the production of Othello I'd seen at the Barbican in London a few years ago; I always kept the best memory of it and that one here just couldn't compete. There were some very good things in it, though, and seeing it after having read a chapter on jealousy and triangles in Vice Versa (that book with tons of research on bisexuality) made me read many things into some scenes. *smirk*
Julia (with whom I'd gone) and I plan on going to see Electra next; they transposed it to the Ireland of the fifties, an interesting choice (and if any of you is thinking of Jennifer Garner and going 'wtf?' I suggest you brush up on your antic myths, it's worth it). I have a strong suspicion that Clytemnestra's lover in this adaptation will in fact be a woman, since they are careful not to divulge Electra's mother's lover's gender in their formulations and the list of actors shows, apart from the "younger" actors, only two that are older, both of them women. So either her lover will be a woman, or a young man. Whichever it turns out to be, it's bound to be interesting, especially in such a place as this god-fearing Ireland. Funny coincidence, the director is called Jo (and she's a she). *grin*
I taped an adaptation of Strindberg's Miss Julie the other night (directed by Mike Figgis, with Saffron Burrows and Peter Mullan). It was brilliant. I didn't know the whole play, but in my first year of drama at Reims Uni I played Julie in one scene... and I adored it. I was actually very frustrated by the experience, because I loved the scene and acting it and my partner was bloody brilliant, but on the night of the performance we weren't as good as we usually were, and it actually showed. Which was a shame, 'cause for some of the rehearsals... there really was something. Anyway. It was frustrating that the one time we actually performed in front of an audience, we didn't do as good as we could.
Anyway, that movie was great. I think the play itself is brilliant, really, and the performances in the film do it justice. I bought the play and I'll be reading it as soon as I'm done with Julius Caesar. The film gave me another pang of longing for acting; I really do miss it. I wonder whether anything's going on at Nanterre Uni for drama-loving students. Hopefully so. Julie is so going up there in that list of roles I really do wish I could play some day, in an ideal world. The play is just so damned interesting. The thickness and complexity of feelings and emotions... Wow.
I taped Lars Van Triers' The Idiots last night. Is it as depressing as Dancer in the Dark and Dogville? Hopefully it's just as good.
And people keep advising me to go and see Stage Beauty, saying they think I might like it. Huh. No shit, Sherlocks. Clearly I haven't ranted enough about it, but my love for this film has not yet found its limit.