slow down your time will come, if not tonight then surely by the dawn; just take it like a man into the strange face of love

why is my nose so red?

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last night kelly and i went to go see the play landscape with weapon at the national theatre. and i use the term "play" loosely. very quickly into this two hour production, i was asking myself, 'how is this theatre?' because there was nothing remotely theatrical about it. every single scene was just a talking-heads scene, there was little to no thought put in the staging and blocking. it was like watching a tennis match . . . he's talking . . . now he's talking . . . what do you mean that was out, that was in!

and here we are, paying good money to see some good theatre when this SHOULD HAVE BEEN A RADIO PLAY. if you had kept your eyes closed for the entire duration of the play, you would have missed nothing.

how disappointed were we, considering the play stars the brilliant tom hollander (remember mr collins in pride & prejudice? how much did you just love him!) and he did the most he could with this poorly dramaturged and hastily conceived production that tries to tackle the issue of the iraq war without actually tackling the issues of the iraq war (pussies), but nothing could really save this piece. one of hollander's lines from p&p actually perfectly describes this play - it "had all the superior graces of elevated rank."

oh no i di'int!

playwright joe penhall may be well established and respected in his career but he does not know how to write motivation, intent, objective, or passion. i believed nothing about these characters, their backstories, and dialogue was trite. and director roger michell seems to have phoned-in his contribution. the actors stand around, then sit, then stand, then sit, then throw curried noodles at each other, then sit. ooooooooo. totally worth the £30.

*cough*

yeah, this is yet another theatrical production which perfectly illustrates how the most respected theatre-makers usually know shit about shit, but their vomit still gets produced because of their name, not their talent.

this also reminds us that if you're pissed off with how many BAD plays are getting produced, get your GOOD play produced so you can show those stuffed-shirted painted-peacocks how it's really done.

i've licked the stamps, posted the scripts . . . literary managers, do your worst.