What do we want? March! When do we want it? Now!
I have been holding off writing because I have been in such a diabolical mood. I am not alone in finding February an horrendous month. It ends our winter, all of us depleted of our summer reserves. All the usual boring aspects of life are multiplied in their treadmill nature, and when few good incidents happen, it becomes almost impossible to rise out of bed.
The year began with a casting as a result of doing Gertrude in Hamlet, (you can read a review here, it was an interesting perspective: http://www.lampandowl.co.uk/tag/hamlet/ ) . The casting for a new comedy in a central Off-West-End theatre went well and was one of those types of castings which for one reason or another gave me the impression that I would get the job. Suffice to say, I did not get it. Dagnabbit.
The plod of the commute for my consultancy job has become more pronounced over this last month. The relentless weather determining the lack of variety compounded with the rush hour arm-pits, the long list of cold, unresponding leads that I have to try to engage for the business consultancy and the lack of castings (middle aged women are not in demand, in case you didn’t know) all adds to a general feeling of malaise and futility. Life, all by itself can be hard enough, without some parts of it going the way we want.
Anyway, I will stop moaning. We spent a fun weekend in Warwickshire with the Captain’s old friends, going to a glorious restaurant called The Townhouse in Stratford. Everything from the atmosphere, food, cocktails and setting was fun and delicious. We enjoyed muchly. The same can be said of The Lickfold Inn in West Sussex, which is run by Michelin starred chefs. My brother treated our whole family to a sumptuous feast there to celebrate his and my mother’s birthday. My father organised a large cab for all of us to get there and back, so that we could drink with no fear. We all kept it a secret from my mother until the day itself, which provided plenty of amusement for us all. Nothing amuses our family more than, cartoon like tiptoe-ing around with secret plans: in reference to my father, he channels a black and white Sylvester Cat, sneaking around Tweetie-Bird (my blue eyed mother).
Another venue other than Le Beaujolais, my favourite wine bar, The Keeper’s House at the Royal Academy of Arts is turning out to be a discreet, delightful, secret place for a cocktail. Oh dear. Not secret any more. Hmmm.
Television will continue to please us if we watch Nashville (obtainable from Amazon), and for my money, Togetherness, Girls and Cucumber. In the film world, Boyhood was so good in its epic nature that I did not notice how long it was. I loved the fact that director Linklater made the mundane the subject to observe, converting the miraculous nature of being alive into something to actually try to capture. Maps to the Stars, I thought, was worth a watch, if merely to glean exactly what living in L.A. can actually be like. I was so glad that my viewpoint on it seemed utterly vindicated by David Cronenberg, the director.
On my writing front, my director friend is very tied up with work right now, but our aim is to get together with a mutual actress friend who actually introduced us, and talk about my sit-com pilot. One of the roles is ideal for her, and she has read it and loves it, so that is very positive indeed. I have also printed out the notes of the play I wrote, that my novelist friend annotated patiently with constructive thoughts, and will be going through it over the next few weeks. She is due to give birth any day now and I have been honoured with being asked to be one of her son-to-be’s three godmothers. I think I am hoping to be both fairy and fun, in Godmother-speak.
Both the Captain and I are a bit tired of our current treadmill, so we may be off to Morocco in the imminent future. Essaouira for a couple of days to visit a friend of his. Followed by the Atlas mountains. We cannot go on a long haul as we are unable to take longer than a week off, because of pending projects. The Captain’s screening of a film takes place next week in a very chic Soho venue, so I am looking forward to that. He is absolutely brilliant in it, so I am hoping that it reminds everyone of how superb he is.
Last night I saw a mate, Andrew Venning, who played Horatio in the Hamlet job, play Macbeth at the Lost Theatre. The theatre itself is as dubious as it’s name, but Andrew was staggeringly good in the role. I enjoyed the director’s ideas and had a clear idea of the story, but many of the cast excluding Andrew need to learn how to speak Shakespeare’s language properly, standing and moving in a grounded way, and to use the words he provides to show the emotions. It is as simple as that.
Just as I was about to finish the blog, my brilliant agent called me. I have an audition. I’m in a very good mood now. Welcome to my life. Cue the elastic music. To quote Warner Bros, That’s All Folks!
Tagged Horatio; Hamlet; The Lickfold Inn;, Le Beaujolais;, Macbeth; The Lost Theatre; David Cronenberg; Richard Linklater; Cucumber; Girls; Togetherness;, Maps to the Stars; Boyhood;, Royal Academy of Arts; The Keeper's House;, The Townhouse; Lost Theatre; 
Kate Terence's Letters from London 