Eurovision 2012 – Semi Final Two

Posted on May 2, 2012 by therealchrisparkle

Welcome back, gentle reader, to the second part of my Eurovision preview for this year, and the songs from Semi Final Two. Once again I’ll be taking the songs in the order in which they will appear on the night (that of Thursday 24th May), and giving you the range of betting odds courtesy of oddschecker.com (taking all the bookmakers who will give you the first four places as each way, as at 24th April) and also my much-coveted star rating out of five. Let’s have no more ado!

Serbia – Nije Ljubav Stvar – Željko Joksimović

It feels like several years ago now that they announced Željko would participate for Serbia again and I remember thinking to myself, well that’s it, he’s won the whole shebang then. But now I’ve heard the song a few times I am not so sure. It feels very classy, and you have to admire the confidence of having a (rather sumptuous) forty second orchestral introduction; but then it kind of descends into nothing much – especially on first hearing. It’s unfortunate that English ears discern “doggy poo” in the first few words. He’s super-popular so a top 5 finish would not remotely surprise me. But it’s no Lane Moje. 12-1 to 14-1 ***

FYR Macedonia – Crno i Belo – Kaliopi

Now here’s a thing. You expect another boring Balkan ballad and you get this instead. At first Kaliopi’s voice sounds like’s it’s seen a few hard winters but it really lends atmosphere and expression to the song. Then you get the relatively high pitched notes of the chorus, which take you by surprise, and finally she turns into a rock chick. Well, a bit. So this is anything but boring. According to wikipedia, so it must be true, she’s released 11 albums and 47 singles, and she’s had her own record label for the past twelve years. Serious lyrics and a good tune combine to make this the best song from the FYR since, possibly, ever. 80-1 to 200-1 ***

Netherlands – You and Me – Joan

Yet another Marmite song, and this time I’m on the side that prefers jam. Much has been made of Joan’s dipping into the dressing-up box for no apparent reason, but if she keeps the headdress on and space is tight in the Crystal Hall she might have to sidle on to the stage. Personally her accent grates on me like a hundred Lenas and clashes with the delicacy of the tune of the verse. When the chorus kicks in I’ve had enough. The song is a “I wish I were a punk rocker with flowers in my hair”-wannabe, and I genuinely don’t understand why it’s so popular. 50-1 to 100-1 **

Malta – This is the Night – Kurt Calleja

Now here’s a song that’s benefited hugely from its post-final, pre-Baku makeover. There’s no doubt that the song itself is pretty derivative and somewhat repetitive, but Kurt does a good job presenting it, and I have to confess my spirits lift when I hear the opening bars. Make his day and sing along with the eh eh eh eh’s. If you meet him in Azerbaijan, ask him to do his impersonation of Spongebob Squarepants. 80-1 to 200-1 ****

Belarus – We are the Heroes – Litesound

And here’s the opposite of the previous song, in that somewhere between the Belarus final (which of course it didn’t win) and the final version, We are the Heroes has lost a lot of its rocky power and is in danger of becoming bland. You have to hand it Litesound, they’ve been plugging away at representing Belarus since the times of the last Czar, and they’ve finally made it. An anagram of their name is “Nudes Toil”. I used to like this, and I do still, somewhat – but it’s fading. 50-1 to 100-1 **

Portugal – Vida Minha – Filipa Sousa

The gentle sun’s rays warming your heart; the waves lapping at your tootsies; the sky as blue as Picasso’s 1901 to 1904 period; is it just me or does this song make you think of Mediterranean beaches? Nicely soporific but rather forgettable. The lovely Filipa comes from the Operação Triunfo stable, but I think her chances of reaching Saturday night have long bolted. 100-1 to 200-1 **

Ukraine – Be my guest – Gaitana

Controversy at home with a leading Ukrainian politician not happy that the part-Congolese Gaitana is representing what he would no doubt prefer to be their Aryan nation. Let’s move on and consider instead that it’s a bright and bouncy song, and it’s nice that Ruslana lent them her trembitas for a bit of Hutsul ethnicity. Lyrically it’s somewhat undemanding, basically being a three minute musical “hello”. Her father is apparently head of telecommunications in Congo, so there might be a surprisingly large televote from Brazzaville. Great for unwittingly embarrassing yourself behind the steering wheel at traffic lights. 40-1 to 100-1 ****

Bulgaria – Love Unlimited – Sofi Marinova

Nothing to do with Barry White in the 1970s, Sofi’s a modern girl with a modern lifestyle – being not only once married to the father of her son but also having a long term relationship with one of his other sons too, or at least so says Wiki. When the tune gets really high-pitched she sounds to me as though she becomes Chinese, but she is apparently an all-Bulgarian girl. Very clubby, I quite like it, despite all its “dorem dem dem deis”. 100-1 to 200-1 ***

Slovenia – Verjamem – Eva Boto

I always think I don’t like this very much, but when I’m forced to hear I have to admit it’s not bad. It has a very dreamy quality, and I quite like the use of the Ravel’s Bolero snare drums during the ah ah ah ah bit. She also has a small stab at a Marija Šerafović-style ooh ooh ooh before the final chorus, but comes off second best. Check out the video if you want to admire the four biggest fascinators you’ve ever seen. Pretty impressive for a 16 year old. 50-1 to 100-1 ***

Croatia – Nebo – Nina Badrić

The guitar intro sounds quite beguiling but you quickly realise this song commits the cardinal sin of being boring. To compensate they’ve constructed a video that ought to accompany a completely different song – and she’s never going to get those sheets folded that way. Nothing to see here, ladies and gentlemen, move along if you please. 80-1 to 150-1 *

Sweden – Euphoria – Loreen
Here’s the spoke I’m going to stick into this year’s Eurovision works. For me this is a triumph of style over content. Loreen is a great singer and she puts in a magnificent performance, all three syllables of her. But the song really is nothing special. Full of pauses and gaps, whenever it gathers momentum it loses it again. If this were Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound, it would need serious attention to the pointing. Built around the “up up up up up up” gimmick it doesn’t so much soar like an eagle, more hop like a wallaby. People love it though. Please address your complaints about my comments to the WordPress Customer Satisfaction Office. 2-1 to 12/5 ***

Georgia – I’m a Joker – Anri Jokhadze

I’m a joker proclaims Anri Jokhadze. No you’re not, you’re a pillock, replies Europe en masse. A pompously sub-operatic start leads into shouty unmusical drivel that points out that this song is going nowhere; but it goes there anyway – relentlessly. I don’t like to be negative but I can see no alternative with this entry. I’m not surprised he’s trying to hide in that photo. Buttock-clenchingly awful. 80-1 to 200-1 *

Turkey – Love Me Back – Can Bonomo

There are times when you can take a metaphor too far. This is one of those times. Chirpy Can is stuck on board his ship, sing hey nonny nonny. To be fair it has an interesting ethnic lilt but its essential silliness quashes any real credibility to which it might have aspired. His “seeng weeth meee my children” has something of a creepy Phantom of the Opera to it. My ship is made from hope, she’s searching for your bay, well you know what sailors are, mind the gangway. 20-1 to 33-1 **

Estonia – Kuula – Ott Lepland

I’ve not been very charitable with these songs, have I? Unfortunately it’s not going to improve much here. There’s nothing problematic with this song, it’s just a bit dull. I’m beginning to find it almost endurable after twelve or so listenings but that doesn’t sound to me like a recipe for Eurovision victory. There’s only so many times one can hear the word “kuula” and continue to pay attention – so while your mind wanders, you can have a lot of fun juggling with his name – Ott le Pland; Ottle Pland; Planet Dolt (not my invention but I approve); there must be more. Three minutes later and he’s stopped emoting. Thank goodness for that. 33-1 to 100-1 ***

Slovakia – Don’t Close Your Eyes – Max Jason Mai

This year’s raucous entry – if it isn’t Finnish, it’s bound to be Slovakian. It’s not my kind of thing but I don’t think it’s bad for its genre. Max came second in Czechoslovak Idol in 2009. He sports the statutorily required hairstyle for this metallic rock stuff. A bit tedious, but livened up by a surprisingly tuneful chorus. 100-1 to 150-1 ***

Norway – Stay – Tooji

I was a little disappointed when they chose Tooji to represent Norway as there were a few songs that I preferred in their National Final. However, with the wisdom of hindsight I think they made the right decision. The Pop Prince of Persia (he lived in Iran for his first year) is sponsored by the Norwegian hoodie industry and commands the stage with this quirky upbeat number that out-Saades Eric. Mrs Tooji Senior is persona non grata in Tehran so Baku will be the opportunity for a big family reunion. I wouldn’t be surprised to see the Toojmeister in the high end of the scoreboard on the Saturday night. 16-1 to 25-1 ****

Bosnia Herzegovina – Korake Ti Znam – Maya Sar

Vying with, and just beating, Croatia for the title of the Ultimate Snoozefest 2012. Even the opening orchestral chords sound like a disappointed sigh. It’s a dark and dingy song which potters along quietly whilst your mind wanders onto other slightly less tedious things. Sadly forgettable. Maya was Dino Merlin’s keyboard player last year. 66-1 to 125-1 *

Lithuania – Love is Blind – Donny Montell

Plucky Donny has been battering at the Lithuanian Eurovision door for a few years now and in 2012 finally its hinges gave way. Empathising with the Disability Discrimination Act more than is legally required, it’s quite a good tune, but the lyrics are rather trite and schmaltzy, and put together it just comes across as a huge dollop of wet. I really hate that self-indulgent bit before the second chorus. A good draw though, so I expect we will see Vilnius Blind Man’s Buff in the Final. 50-1 to 150-1 ***

And that concludes the prosecution case for the second semi final. I can’t quite stretch to a 5* for any of these, but Malta, Ukraine and Norway come closest. I’ll be back fairly shortly with my assassination, I mean preview, of the Big 5 plus Azerbaijan, and I’ll pin my colours to the mast with a few predictions.

Review – Grease, Derngate, Northampton, 30th April 2012

Posted on May 1, 2012 by therealchrisparkle

I know you’ll think we’ve led very sheltered lives but neither Mrs Chrisparkle nor I have ever seen the film Grease; nor had we seen the stage show until last night. Of course, the songs are firmly embedded in our culture and everyone knows them backwards. But it’s always interesting to see how songs from a musical fit into the context of the musical itself – often this gives them a greater depth or a hidden agenda; for example, when we saw Sweet Charity a couple of years ago, Big Spender and Rhythm of Life were huge eye-openers.

And so it is with Grease. Think of the really big hits that came out as a result of the John Travolta/Olivia Newton-John combination. “You’re the One that I Want” to me sounds like the start of a relationship and therefore I thought would be towards the beginning of the show. “Summer Nights” looks back at good times which suggested to me it would be at the end. Wrong! It’s the other way round. “Grease is the Word” very entertainingly sets the scene to introduce the characters at Rydell High, and also to place the story in its era (“we take the pressure and we throw away conventionality – belongs to yesterday”), and as for “Hopelessly Devoted to You” – we’ll return to that later.

Basically there are two reviews to do here – one of this production, and one of the musical itself. Production first. It’s absolutely brilliant. The set is colourful and versatile, serving the songs and the performers without getting in the way. The costumes and the props are all spot-on. The lighting is strong; it enhances the performances, encourages the excitement and even helps communicate the story and the characterisation. There are splendid effects like the Greased Lightning car with its fiery exhaust and the front of stage pyrotechnics – not over-used, but really well integrated. The whole staging and performance of the “Greased Lightning” number was superb, incidentally.

And the band? They are amazing. They get their moment of glory in a kind of overture and a couple of times during the show but mostly they are tucked away at the top of the stage behind the scenery. Full of drive, they really rock. Call me an old fuddy-duddy but one of my pet hates in the staging of modern musicals is over-amplification. For me, the amplification was just right. If I’m honest, I thought that in some of the non-musical scenes a few of the characters spoke just a little quietly – but not enough to be a problem.

What about the dancing? First-rate. Arlene Phillips’ original choreography is snappy, demanding, energetic and very fast, and perfectly blends late 1950s style with the kind of stuff we like to see in the 21st century; and it is performed with an amazing sense of unity by the entire, hugely likeable, cast. Everyone’s in perfect time; cheeky, sassy, superbly controlled and accurate, visually and orally it really is a feast for all the senses.

As a true ensemble piece, it’s hard to pick out individual performances; but I will anyway. Danny Bayne plays his namesake Danny Zuko, and if you can’t bring back a 24 year old John Travolta to play the part, I don’t see how you could do better than Mr Bayne. He gives us a cunning combination of cool and weasel, and with a superb singing voice and he’s an incredible dancer. Carina Gillespie is his Sandy; stunning good looks and very convincing as the demure girl surrounded by, let’s say, more experienced types. And she can certainly sell a song; they worked together extremely well.

The supporting gang member roles are also really well performed. Ricky Rojas as Kenickie was particularly good, full of attitude and cool but with a surprising vulnerability when it comes to the crunch. I also loved Kate Somerset How as Rizzo, a right bitch in her confrontations with Sandy and flighty as a hummingbird when performing multi-dalliance with the guys. On the kookie side, the partnership of Laura Wilson as Jan and David O’Reilly as Roger (not Derek Andrews as it says in the programme) were great fun and their emerging togetherness was strangely heart-warming as it shows you don’t have to conform to classic cool/sexy to have a successful relationship.

I also liked the rather seedy DJ Vince Fontaine, played by Stuart Reid (not Jason Capewell as it says in the programme – really if you’re charging £6 for a programme the cast list should be accurate, all it needs is an insert saying at this performance the role will be played by X – it’s not even as though these were understudies) and the Teen Angel was played by X-Factor’s Rhydian Roberts, a bubble of camp glistening in white sparkles; this “guest star” role is a lot of fuss for just one song, but he certainly made it look and sound outstanding. Sophie Zucchini’s Cha-Cha was stunning, Lois Urwin’s Marty was rather lovely; and Darren John brought a lot of nerdy fun to the role of Eugene – his collapsing dancing with Nancy Hill’s Miss Lynch was really funny. So as a performance this gets an official “fabulous” from me.

But what of the musical itself? OK here comes the controversial bit. As a Grease-newbie, I’ve done a little research and checked the storyline of the film; and it seems to me that the story in the stage version is heavily pared down. But let’s look at what we’re shown: bad-boy and good-girl fall in love in the summer and when they are unexpectedly reunited it’s damaging for his image to be tied down with a respectable dame. She gets ridiculed; he plays the field; but she’s hopelessly devoted to him and the only way she can get him back is by acting the slut. He wouldn’t come up to her level, so she descends to his.

Now I don’t want you to think that Mrs C is lacking in the sense of humour department, or isn’t a party girl, because that’s not the case; in fact she will lead the conga at the annual accountancy convention. But this storyline depressed her no end. It made her want to grab Sandy by the collar and shout “where’s your self-respect?” Talking, as we were, about contextualising songs within musicals, Mrs C had always thought of “Hopelessly Devoted To You” as a sincerely romantic and rather idealistic song – and now she sees it as symptomatic of a character that just screams “Victim”. It’s rather ruined it for her, I fear, despite Carina Gillespie’s brilliant performance of it. I mentioned to Mrs C in the interval that it’s the kind of show that would attract kids to the theatre (which is a great thing) to which she agreed but thought some of the subject matter would be a little dubious. When I asked her on the way home if she would consider taking our nieces to see it she instantly said “No Way!”

I definitely agree with her on this – although it didn’t affect me personally quite the same way it did her. Bizarrely, as a show that is seen as a landmark in depicting a new age of freedom for these young people in the late 1950s, in retrospect it seems to me to put back the cause of women by decades. Mrs C actually felt in the not too distant future that this show might be seen as very un-PC; in the same way that today we reflect back on The Black and White Minstrels. I was unimpressed with the aspect of the storyline that has a character fed up because she might be pregnant; and then a couple of song-and-dances later saying it’s ok because it was only “a false alarm so everything’s all right again, no need to make any lifestyle changes, phew that’s a relief, party on”. Are we missing a lesson to be learned here? Even the audience is encouraged to misbehave a bit. There’s a song number early on – “Those Magic Changes” – where the dance routine consists of three of the guys emerging in and out of their shower cubicles wearing minute towelettes and doing obscene things with loofahs, which evoked a lot of raunchy whoopings from some of the female members of the audience. If it had been the men in the audience rowdily ogling scantily clad ladies in the showers we would have been lynched.

So that’s my bittersweet experience of last night. A really first class production, superbly executed in all departments; thoroughly enjoyable until I started thinking about what the show actually says to us – its gobsmacking sexism and how it celebrates some really bad behaviour and attitudes, and then I feel a bit depressed by it.

In the final curtain call Danny did a bit of a cool hair-comb and then threw said comb out into the audience to great whooping and cheers. It seemed to hover in the air for ages and then I finally realised it was heading for us. Her mind bogged down with disgust at the show’s message, Mrs C felt she would have degraded herself to catch it, so it ended up at her feet. However, I rescued it from its otherwise certain fate of being binned so it will live on as part of my theatre programme collection!

Review – The Osmonds, Derngate, Northampton, 27th April 2012

Posted on April 30, 2012 by therealchrisparkle

I couldn’t call myself an Osmond fan, you understand, that would be so not right. But when such an iconic group books in at your local theatre, it would be churlish not to follow up and actually see them perform live. Plus I don’t think Mrs Chrisparkle and the Lady Duncansby would have forgiven me. And I did hope they would play my three favourite Osmonds songs – Crazy Horses, Goin’ Home and I Can’t Stop.

So we all trooped in, a full house, a variety of ages, mainly aged 40 plus I would estimate, and about 95% female. Curtain up at 7.30pm and the joint was buzzing. And then – lo and behold, a slideshow screen appears on the stage with some “Did You Know?” questions. OK, I thought, an amusing way to start the show. Which type of music did the Osmonds first sing? A Bubblegum, B Barbershop, C Light Opera, D Rock n Roll. Let’s go with – B. Correct! Moving on. How many individual acts have formed out of the Osmond family…. And then another…Which group member made a rude sign to the Queen of England (I bet that question went down well in Glasgow)….and then another….after a while I was expecting “Which blood group predominates in the Osmond family? A – A; B – B; C – AB; D – O. “How many Osmonds have nine toes? A – 3; B – 5; C – 7; D – they all do. Then you start to worry. 7.30 became 7.40 – more questions. 7.40 unbelievably became 7.50 – still more questions. Mrs Chrisparkle had to rush home from work to watch this garbage. She could have had an extra 20 minutes to let her dinner go down. At 7.50 I texted Lady Duncansby sitting in the cheap seats: “for ****sake, when’s it going to start?” (Ours is a very informal relationship).

At 7.55pm, the lights changed and some musicians walked on stage. The Osmonds? No. The Dropouts. Who? They advised us that the Osmonds had asked them if they would come on a sing us a few 70s songs, and obviously they must be obliging lads as that’s exactly what they did. Four songs, in fact. I’m a child of the 70s but only recognised two of them. They were, in fact, quite good – and certainly heaps better than watching a sequence of questions about obscure TV reality shows the Osmonds had appeared in (that weren’t even shown in the UK so how in the name of all that’s decent were we meant to get those right?) At 8.05pm the Dropouts appropriately dropped off the stage and it was time for the interval. We met Lady Duncansby in the bar and her language included the words “con” and “swizz”.

At 8.25pm we were encouraged to return to our seats for the second half of the performance by the Osmonds. People snorted that there hadn’t been a first half yet. Anyway, lured by the prospect of Little Jimmy et al, we went back. And they did come on – and they were great. The promotional material had depicted four Osmonds but unfortunately at the last minute Wayne was not well enough to travel, so we were left with Jay, Merrill and Jimmy. But they are consummate performers, they still sing extremely well, and they do spread more than a little magic to their devoted fans.

In just under 90 minutes we got lots of old songs, a few new ones, a little cheesy dancing, a spectacular drum solo from Jay, some schmaltzy “family” reminiscences, an unexpected vision of Christ as a backdrop, some chat, some heavy advertising from Tesco (you almost expected to see the Osmonds logo with blue and white stripes running through it), and lots of handshakes with the front rows. They did indeed sing Crazy Horses – it was their first number, and also a reprise right at the end; and they did sing Goin’ Home, (Jimmy got the words wrong) just before they went off in that pretend tradition that it’s all over when it isn’t. They didn’t however sing I Can’t Stop.

As an audience we acapella’d Paper Roses (with the compulsory use of a “W” instead of an “R”) and we made Jimmy sing Long Haired Lover from Liverpool. Even though he wasn’t on the same continent, every time a picture of Donny flashed up, a thousand or so ex-teenyboppers screamed. It was a little bizarre.

Don’t get me wrong – it was really enjoyable and I am thoroughly pleased to have seen them perform in the flesh, so to speak. It could have been so much more rewarding as a whole if they just ditched that stupid introductory slideshow. Why not have the support group do a few more numbers early on? Then it would have been a much more balanced evening. This is to be the group’s final UK tour, apparently, so if you miss them here now, thatsyerlot. I doubt whether there will be any tickets left now for the remaining dates anyway.

Mrs C and Lady D are still fantasising about how manly-gorgeous Merrill looks. This could carry on for some time.

Review – Dara O’Briain: Craic Dealer, Warwick Arts Centre, 25th April 2012

Posted on April 27, 2012 by therealchrisparkle

We’ve seen Dara O’Briain on TV a few times, doing a little bit of stand-up, but primarily presenting “The Apprentice – You’re Fired”, where he has a very wholesome blend of gentle teasing and intelligent badinage. We’d not seen him live before though. My guess was that as a stand-up he would be very quick of brain and strong of material.

And I was right. What I wasn’t aware was that, as a big man, he can command a large and rather soulless venue like the stage of the Butterworth Hall at the Warwick Arts Centre and treat it as though it were as intimate as his living room. Wednesday night’s gig was part of his Craic Dealer tour, and I think he sold out all three nights within a very short time.

With no support act, and the show lasting for two and a quarter hours, including a twenty minute interval, he needs no props, apart from a gift bag of crisps that he shares out at the end of the show to the people who contributed the most. He’s very funny, as you would expect, and I like his straightforward way of telling a story – no need for stylistic embellishments, he lets his material do the talking – and as it’s very good material, it works.

For someone who is such a good talker, he must also be a really good listener too; as the information he gleans from the punters at the front whom he interrogates in the first half, constantly comes back as references in the second half, when you’re really not expecting them; and not just repetitiously – he sneaks references in when you think he’s going in a completely different direction. Very creatively done.

Amongst last night’s subjects were how to most terrify a burglar in your home, the level of expertise of current Irish construction workers, how not to take a photo when someone gives you their camera and how the singer Plan B might have got his name.

I think he has something of the Frankie Howerd to his style – not Howerd’s camp mannerisms or his oohs and aahs, but in his way of addressing the audience as a whole in a confidential way, making them feel they’re the only one he’s talking to – and also by rounding on the audience when they vocally disapprove of any his dodgier topics.

But what you come away with is a distinct impression of someone with a fairly massive brain (not big headed though), an amazing way of dealing with people and a provider of top quality comic material in a fast and fluid way. A really enjoyable night out!

Eurovision 2012 – Semi Final One

Posted on April 26, 2012 by therealchrisparkle

Another year has flown by so it’s time to take a look at this year’s Eurovision runners and riders. We’ll start off with Semi Final One, taking the songs in the order in which they will appear on the night (the night in question being Tuesday 22nd May), and not only do you have the range of betting odds courtesy of oddschecker.com (taking all the bookmakers who will give you the first four places as each way, as at 24th April) but I’m also giving each song a star rating out of five, just for a laugh. So here goes!

Montenegro – Euro Neuro – Rambo Amadeus

So anyone who hasn’t watched Eurovision for a few years will get a bit of a shock if they tune in to Tuesday’s Semi-Final and are expecting the usual Boom banga dinga dinga. That Mr Amadeus is a wag, isn’t he? Known for being subversive with his music he’s come up with this anti-bureaucratic anti-governmental anti-modern age ditty that is too clever for its own good. The video is visually quite entertaining but musically it’s going to have people switching off in droves. 80-1 to 200-1 **

Iceland – Never Forget – Gréta Salóme and Jónsi

Not the old crowd pleaser by Take That, but something that sounds like a pivotal moment from an Andrew Lloyd Webbersson musical. Very dramatic and emotional, and their voices blend pretty darn magnificently – no need for an Elaine Paigesdottir. One of two songs that Gréta had in the Icelandic National Finals this year, so she’s been a busy girl; and this is Jónsi’s second go at bringing back the trophy to Reyjkavik. You can almost feel the steam rising between the tectonic plates and smell the sulphurous pong from the bathroom taps. As Nordic as it gets. 12-1 to 22-1 ****

Greece – Aphrodisiac – Eleftheria Eleftheriou

The first song of the night that might be termed “typically” Eurovision. Things are financially tight in Greece so Eleftheria and her fellers knocked up this dance routine in the Athens Arndale Centre, cunningly leaving the windows open in Next to save on the costs of a wind machine. Eleftheria is officially gorgeous, and bouzouki by numbers though it may be, its simple dancey joy makes this my favourite of the year. It must have been a challenge for Mr and Mrs Eleftheriou to come up with a name for their baby girl; the English translation of her name is “Freedom’s Freedom”. 20-1 to 33-1 *****

Latvia – Beautiful Song – Annmary

After the deconstructionalist tendencies of Montenegro’s song, it’s on to the post-structuralist naval gazing of Latvia’s. Annmary’s beautiful song is all about Anmary’s beautiful song, and I rather like it for that – the trouble is, if you don’t catch the lyrics (and Annmary’s English diction does leave something to be desired) its subtlety and humour passes you by. Another striking looking lady, I’d love it to do well but I’m sure it won’t. The video inspires you to break into a song and dance routine in an airport departure lounge, which has long been a personal fantasy. I wonder why Paul McCartney has more kudos than Mick Jagger? 80-1 to 150-1 ****

Albania – Suus – Rona Nishliu

In the first line of this song Rona confesses she “nicked a boat that surely unseats a man”, then she hits her thumb and cries with the subsequent pain; at least that’s what it sounds like to me. I jest of course; according to diggiloo.net the lyrics include “my plane is landing on the unlit runway of your soul”. Remind me not to fly to Tirana International. A moody pretentious video to accompany a moody pretentious song, mainly memorable for that repeated note. My spies at the Amsterdam in Concert show said she was am-a-zing. She will need to be to carry it off. Not my kind of thing. 100-1 to 200-1 **

Romania – Zaleilah – Mandinga

Zaleilah sounds to me like the kind of title Dave Dee Dozy Beaky Mick and Tich would have come up with. Lead singer Elena is yet another sizzler, the arrangement is quirky and upbeat, and you think it’s going to be something special, but then its meaningless chorus kicks in and it’s so repetitive that you get bored. Popular in some quarters, I file it under Ones That Ought To Be Better Than They Are. 25-1 to 33-1 ***

Switzerland – Unbreakable – Sinplus

The first entry chosen to go to Baku, this song has been banging against the inside of my head for about four months now. More Highest Heights than If We All Give A Little (for which it gains brownie points), imitating Mr Broggini’s English accent remains the most enjoyable party trick of the season. Switzerland’s lack of natural allies means it probably won’t get far. A bit meaningless, a bit repetitive, a bit magic; nearly excellent. 66-1 to 125-1 ***

Belgium – Would You – Iris

A dull song that limps along with odd lyrics – “What would you do if my house was empty?” I’d love it if the next line were “break in and steal my laptop and TV”. Iris puts two irritatingly breathy syllables in words that should only have one (life, bag, love). Stretches three minutes to an eternity. I never thought I’d have cause to say this, but it’s not a patch on Witloof Bay. 100-1 to 150-1 *

Finland – När jåg blundar – Pernilla Karlsson

This is a gentle song. A very, very gentle song. It’s borderline relaxing/dull, but Pernilla is so cute that to criticise it would be like stamping on a puppy-dog’s tail. A nice folky feel to it, and I like her clarity of diction. The first Swedish language song in Eurovision since Jill Johnson in 1998. 50-1 to 100-1 **

Israel – Izabo – Time

Here’s a Marmite song, and personally I find it delicious. A thumping good beat and satisfyingly jangly guitars keep this Blur/Britpop-sounding oeuvre upbeat all the way through until its, admittedly, disappointingly lame ending. Is it just me, or does the chorus remind you of the Kinks’ Apeman? Izabo have been going for over twenty years now and it will be interesting to see what this does to their international careers. 100-1 to 150-1 ****

San Marino – The Social Network Song – Valentina Monetta

The second incarnation for Uncle Ralph Siegel’s latest Eurovision hit, carved out of its original banned “Facebook” lyrics, which unfortunately leaves the song with twice the number of “oh-oh-oh-oh-oh”s that it should have. I don’t dislike this song as much as some other observers as the tune is quite jaunty and Valentina has her own special charm. Lyrics like “do you wanna play cybersex again…click me with your mouse” can be viewed as either cheesy crap or tongue-in-cheek witty, you choose. Like a vintage champagne, this will improve over the years, but it will be far too immature for May 22nd. 50-1 to 200-1 ***

Cyprus – La La Love – Ivi Adamou

Ignore the up-itself pompous arty-farty video, this is pure disco dancetastic. It’s not going to improve global warming or save polar bears but it is going to give you a very happy three minutes. Everything you could wish from an upbeat Eurovision song. Vying with Greece as my favourite this year. 18-1 to 40-1 *****

Denmark – Should’ve Known Better – Soluna Samay

With (IMHO) at least three or four better songs in this year’s Danish final, Soluna Samay’s victory was a testament to her excellent performance. Strangely reminiscent of (but inferior to) Tasmin Archer’s Sleeping Satellite, it’s a song that you keep expecting to soar but, like an honest snooker player, keeps its feet firmly on the floor. Should’ve Known Better? Should’ve Been Better. 9-1 to 14-1 ***

Russia – Party for Everybody – Buranovskiye Babushki

The Russian grannies may have won the battle of big news story promotion this year but I feel they’re likely to stay Championship in Baku and not trouble the Premiership contenders. True, they are cuddly and sweet to look at, and you have to admire their chutzpah, but they can’t actually sing in tune and I think the juries in particular won’t think the song itself has much merit (“the cat is happy, the dog is happy, we are in a wonderful mood, and very happy”). Mind you, I like this more than the thing they tried with two years ago, whose title in English was “Very long birch bark and how to turn it into a turban”. I will sing along to it, of course, but surely the contest must have more credibility than this? 5-1 to 7-1 ***

Hungary – Sound of our Hearts – Compact Disco

Plodding ballad or New Romantic triumph? I favour the latter. From the opening keyboard notes I’m hooked. Great instrumentation and strong vocals combine to give this a solid urgency that makes for a serious but rewarding listen. Loved it from the moment I first heard it – probably my third favourite of the year. Given the Hungarian fondness for reversing names I wonder if they should be Disco Compact? The slightly nasty video does nothing to enhance it. 80-1 to 150-1 *****

Austria – Woki mit deim Popo – Trackshittaz

“The Shitz” are popular back home in Austria, with two number one singles and two number one albums to their rather tasteless name. To woki is to shake, and your Popo is your bum. So, it’s an everyday story about the Noodle Soup gang who go to a club to watch the pole dancers strip. So far, so good. But then they probe a bit deeper into the nature of the bum: “your bum has feelings, your bum is part of you, don’t put it on chairs, your bum has an opinion…” Music by Ivor Novello, words by Noel Coward. 80-1 to 150-1 ***

Moldova – Lăutar – Pasha Parfeny

Incorporating Nelly Ciobanu’s brassy backing from the Hora din Moldova, and that traditional instrument – is it a cimbalom? – and with lyrics that don’t quite work in English (“you haven’t seen before how looks the trumpet”) this ought to be a mess from start to finish but Pasha’s likeable and energetic performance is a complete winner (although I know it won’t be on the night). The ultimate cheesefest and I love it. My fourth favourite of the year, and certainly my favourite ever Moldovan entry. This trumpet makes you mine, girl. 66-1 to 100-1 *****

Ireland – Waterline – Jedward

Coming back for second helpings, Jedward’s new song is more mainstream pop than Lipstick and I prefer it. Very singalong, it will all depend on whether they can maintain their vocals during whatever physical larks they pursue on stage. Again a Marmite act; and although I still think they’re better sight unseen, I do find I’m now warming to them. 10-1 to 20-1 ****

So there we have it, the eighteen songs that make up Semi-Final One, which for me is by far the stronger of the two semis. I’ll be back with a preview of the second Semi-Final in a few days’ time.

Review – Barefoot in the Park, Oxford Playhouse, 23rd April 2012

Posted on April 24, 2012 by therealchrisparkle

Many years ago Mrs Chrisparkle declared “Barefoot in the Park” to be one of her all-time favourite films, so it was a no-brainer that we should see this new touring production of Neil Simon’s original play, directed by, as well as starring, Maureen Lipman. It was a huge success on Broadway back in the 1960s, but a 2006 revival flopped.

So is it risky to resurrect it again? As the curtain goes up to the strains of Jack Jones’ Wives and Lovers, you expect some 1960s New York glamour, trendiness and sophistication. But of course, the reality is newlywed Corrie and Paul’s tiny basic apartment has no heating and a broken skylight. In New York’s 2006 people felt reasonably affluent and secure in their jobs, and maybe this setting didn’t connect much with those theatregoers. In Britain’s 2012, however, times are hard, and I think we can all understand the plight of the young couple starting out in life with a grotty flat and not a lot of money, but full of hope in their hearts.

So, whilst the play is rather dated in some aspects – in this world of children owning smartphones, Corrie’s delight in having her first telephone delivered and installed is charming but seems anachronistic today – the basic themes of the play are still relevant, and I think it’s a good choice of play to revive. Plenty of young couples still start out with nothing but enthusiasm; there are always going to be potentially tricky mothers/mothers-in-law; and that fine line of blending your leisure time and home life with the demands of your work remains blurry. And of course, as long as people are people, and are therefore flawed, they are always going to be a source of disappointment to their partners at some point, which is when you have to work out your compromises in order to get a happy balanced life together. This is the stark reality that faces Corrie and Paul once the initial excitement of the wedding and the moving in together has died down.

Tim Goodchild’s set very evocatively recreates that top-floor Brownstone apartment – bare and basic, with a very dismal and dirty glass roof; the door to the bedroom that you can hardly open because the bed is in the way; the clothes rail inconveniently far from the bedroom (no space for a wardrobe); the useless tiny kitchen that would be impossible to cook in; all looking tired and drab, but nevertheless suggesting that exciting prospect that with a bit of time and effort you could make it look really swish.

Right at the centre of the story is Corrie, played by Faye Castelow. Young, idealistic, and keen to experience everything she can, her delight in her new surroundings is a joy – she’s playing at being an adult for the first time and loving every minute. You don’t want life to knock the innocent exuberance out of her, as it inevitably will. It’s a very good performance, quirky and funny, whilst remaining totally within the bounds of reality. She is matched by Dominic Tighe’s Paul, his feet firmly on the ground, aghast at the number of steps you have to climb to get to the flat(one presumes Corrie agreed the deal on a girlish whim), deeply in love with her but also very aware of his responsibilities and obligations with work and the more serious aspects of life. It’s an equally good performance. Their second act argument scene is conducted with a splendid mixture of pace, silliness, outrage and genuine disappointment. For me it was the highlight of the play. Through their argument they learn the art of compromise and it’s a heart-warming moment when you realise Paul did actually go barefoot in the park.

Maureen Lipman is Corrie’s mother, Mrs Banks, and it’s a beautifully understated comic performance. She conveys all the regular motherly concerns without ever becoming a real nag. The role gives her ample opportunities to show off her brilliant comic timing; and you also get very telling insights into her personal loneliness, which will be more acute now that Corrie is living away from home. On top of all that you can just glimpse that slight twinkle in her eye suggesting there might be a more companionable life ahead for her with Victor, played by Oliver Cotton,who gives a funny but again totally believable performance of the weird neighbour with outrageous tastes and extravagant gestures. Ms Lipman’s direction of the play is what makes this production really tick. It emphasises the laughs within the text – some of the lines are still very, very funny – but without ever going over the top. It could have been tempting to make Mrs Banks a hideous dragon and Victor a grotesque foreigner and poke cruel fun at their backgrounds and attitudes. Instead the production allows all its characters to have their personal motivations and genuine emotions recognised and respected. It makes for a much more believable and rewarding scenario.

There’s also some entertaining support from David Partridge’s Telephone Repair Man and Hayward Morse’s Delivery Man – how nice (if surprising in this kind of role) to see him on the stage again (original Brad in Rocky Horror, Nick in What the Butler Saw, Tony award nominee in Butley on Broadway, and son of the late Barry Morse).The full house at Oxford gave a warm reception to this surprisingly thoughtful production of a charming play, with lots of funny lines and a feelgood factor. It’s still touring, and with Richmond and Cambridge still to come, I’d recommend it for an entertaining night out.

Italy – Padua

Posted on April 21, 2012 by therealchrisparkle

There are all sorts of stupid reasons why one might be attracted to visit a certain town over and above simply wishing to see the sights that you know are there to visit. I’m glad I’ve now ticked Padua off my list, and my main motivation for including it in our Italian Odyssey was so that I could sing on the streets “I’ve come to wive it wealthily in Padua” (from Kiss Me Kate, or Taming of the Shrew if you’re more literary). I’m a constant source of embarrassment to Mrs Chrisparkle and Lady Duncansby; I spent an entire Norwegian cruise a few years ago irritatingly breaking into the opening lines of the “Song of Norway”.

Anyway – Padua, or Padova, if you prefer. I’d pre-booked our train tickets in advance using the Trenitalia website, and if you plan to travel by train around Italy and you can pick particular dates and times for your journeys, and stick to it, I’d really recommend it. When we asked the hotel staff in Verona how much time we should allow to get to the station, their first question was: have you bought your tickets in advance? They said if you have to queue for your tickets then add another half hour to your journey. You don’t need that kind of stress when you’re on hols.

The website is easy to use and has a very good English translation. There are also some absolute bargains to be had on there, and some of our trips were extremely good value. There are a number of options as to how you would like your tickets – I chose the ticketless option, where all you have to do is tell the ticket inspector a six digit booking code when on board. Easy peasy. In the end, the combined cost of a single from Verona to Padua, then from Padua to Venice, and finally back from Venice to Verona cost approximately £45 per person, travelling first class. The carriages were clean and comfortable, and you get a complimentary drink and snackette. They even have English language newspapers on board. Plus you arrive in your destination relaxed and raring to go.

We chose our hotel – the Al Cason – primarily because it was close to the railway station and it got sufficiently good reviews on Trip Advisor (currently Number 6 of 59), and was pretty cheap. As a three star it doesn’t have quite the pizzazz of the other hotels on our jaunt, but it was perfectly good enough for one night. The staff were helpful and the room was clean – if a little dark. There’s an unusual thing – the room numbers are not written on the doors but are etched into the carpet in the corridors! Breakfast was fine.

So with only a matter of only five or so hours of daylight to experience everything Padua had to offer, we headed out on our mission of exploration. Gasping for some water, we called in at a little kebab shop near the hotel and got chatting to the chap behind the counter who was proudly displaying an award for his cricketing prowess – not exactly what you would expect in the back streets of a north Italian city! The walled “old town” of Padua is actually quite small so you can get a good appreciation of the place in a short time. The major attraction to see is the Cappella degli Scrovegni, the chapel famous for its Giotto frescos. The only way you can visit is to book in advance, and they have drastically reduced the windows of opportunity to visit. My 2007 guide book says it’s open from 9am to 10pm, but when you go to the website to book, you find it’s now restricted to just the late morning and early lunchtime. Unfortunately we arrived too late in Padua to visit on the same day and were leaving too early the next day to slot it in then too. So regrettably the Scrovegni frescos remain a mystery to me. Always good to have something to come back for, though. Instead, we had a quick wander around the Giardini dell’Arena nearby; a nice bit of greenery in the urban area.

We were heading south into the centre, on a route that takes you through lots of workaday yet attractive piazzas – the Piazza Insurrezione, the Piazza della Frutta, the Piazza delle Erbe, the Piazza dei Signori and the Piazza del Duomo. We walked through them all and they were all vibrant with daily commerce and business activities. The big astronomical clock, made in 1344, of the Palazzo del Capitanio in the Piazza dei Signori cries out for having its photo taken. We arrived at the Piazza del Duomo, with the intention of visiting said Duomo, but by then realised we were absolutely starving. So we found a nice little place, Il Gancino, opposite the Duomo, where we sat in the sunshine, ate pizzas, (not Mrs C, obviously – the tuna salad went down a treat), drank some nice Italian plonk and I fended off nuisance calls from 3 on my mobile phone.

After lunch we crossed to the Duomo, but it was closed till 4pm. Never mind, we’ll come back, we said. Next door, the Baptistry, was however open. What a jaw-droppingly astonishing sight. It’s stunning. It dates from around 1200 and inside is entirely decorated with frescos of scenes from the Bible, painted by Giusto de’ Menabuoi in 1378. It isn’t a large building – somehow its intimacy makes it more astounding, as you feel really close to the images, which is something you can’t quite feel in a huge cathedral that might have similar decorations on its ceiling. There are seats all round the walls so you can sit and take it in from all directions. If you know me personally, gentle reader, you will know that I am a naturally law-abiding person – tediously so, sometimes. There are times when rules are meant to be broken though, so I deliberately transgressed the no-photography rule when the man at the cash desk wasn’t looking. I didn’t use a flash and it was only with the iPhone, so where’s the harm? I think you’ll agree the view is “something else”.

We retraced our steps back to the Piazza delle Erbe to find the Palazzo della Ragione. This was Padua’s law court and council chamber, built in 1218. When we got to the ticket booth, the lady there looked distressed for us. She explained that they were using the Palazzo to prepare for an art exhibition. We looked despondent. “Does that mean we can’t go in?” I asked. “Oh no”, she said brightly, “you can go in but we can only charge you half price”. To be honest I didn’t feel the need to commiserate with her too deeply. She said there would be areas where they are setting up the exhibition where we couldn’t go, but we could go everywhere else. “Let’s risk it”, I said.

On entering, you realise it’s another astonishing sight. It’s the largest undivided medieval hall in Europe; 80 metres long, 27 metres wide and 27 metres high, and its walls are covered with frescos by Nicola Miretto, dating from 1420 to 1425. Walking around it, you are in awe of its scope and majesty, and it’s thrilling to see that the frescos are still in remarkably good condition. At one end of the hall is a copy of the huge Donatello horse, the original of which is in the Piazza del Santo; at the other, a reconstruction of Foucault’s Pendulum made by the Physics Department of Padua University. An amazing place to visit, and all for a couple of euros. Oh, and if you want my advice, installing an exhibition of local art there is redundant.

From the balcony of the Palazzo you can look down on to the Piazza delle Erbe, a great place for discreet people-watching. It looked like there were some lively goings-on happening to the far left, so we thought we’d investigate. This route took us toward the heart of the university area, and we realised it must be Graduation Day, as there were a number of happy-looking young people celebrating; some wearing a traditional laureate wreath around their necks, like one demure young lady I noticed; others in bikinis allowing themselves to be body-painted as some kind of performance art. We never did that at my alma mater, that’s for sure.

It seemed a little indelicate to linger alongside the bikini-clad girls for any length of time, so we carried on towards the Piazza del Santo, taking in an attractive old balconied building where, according to the plaque outside, Dante worked in 1306. We followed the via del Santo down towards the Basilica di Sant’Antonio. After a nice coffee break in one of the cafes there, we went to visit the Basilica. I confess I can’t remember too much about its interior; you get to a stage when another majestic building doesn’t get registered in your head because you’re still processing the previous majestic building. In any event, it’s possibly mainly notable for its domed exterior, which has something Moorish about it. It was built to house the remains of St Anthony of Padua, a simple man, apparently, who rejected worldly wealth; he must have looked down from heaven at the huge church they built him and said “Didn’t you lot listen? I don’t need all that!” Further round the piazza there are the Scuola del Santo and Oratorio di San Giorgio, but it was closing time so we just had enough time to peep round the Oratorio and see the art works on the walls.

The Prato della Valle looked interesting on the map although I didn’t know anything about it, but as it was close by, we thought we’d take a gander. It’s terrific! A beautiful open park, it’s the largest square in Italy, with statues surrounding either side of a moat and a green island in the centre. A place for simply lounging about, as indeed all the Paduans were doing most assiduously when we were there.

It was the end of the day, and we were faced with a good hour or so’s walk back to the hotel. En route, we passed by the university area again, where we saw the same demure young lady we had seen earlier, now looking somewhat worse for wear – students, eh? We followed a different route back, the via San Fermo, and what did we find just before we turned the corner into the via Dante? A coeliac shop. No, not a place to buy coeliacs, but a little emporium of wonderful gluten-free edibles and a very friendly and helpful man pointing out all his coeliac-friendly options. Mrs C did a trolley dash of “Supermarket Sweep” proportions and stocked up on biccies and cakes which would prove invaluable in the next few days. The gentleman in the shop said he would be selling online shortly and indeed I see he now is; but his shop, Il mondo senza glutine, at 108 via San Fermo, though small, could be a life-saver for any coeliac who finds themselves hungry in Padua.

So after a much needed rest and refresh, it was back out on the town to forage for food. We discovered the Cova Restaurant on via Calvi and it was full of locals, which we thought was a good sign. It was. A nice ambience and good food and drink – Mrs C had the Tagliata again as she had in Verona the previous night, but comparisons are odious and the Veronese one was slightly better. Still, it absolutely did the job. Even better, afterwards we stumbled (probably not the best word) upon a charming open air enoteca, the Santa Lucia in the Piazza Cavour, where we had some delicious Chianti and some totally unnecessary but yummy nibbles. It was probably the best evening bar-based experience we had in Italy.

And that was our brief sojourn in Padua. Tomorrow it would be off to Venice, no doubt the highlight of our tour; but I’m very glad we included our one night in Padua as it is a charming place, with some stunning sights and a friendly atmosphere. We never did get back to the Duomo, and I didn’t get to wive it wealthily, but you can’t have everything.

Review – Ladies in Lavender, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 18th April 2012

Posted on April 19, 2012 by therealchrisparkle

Neither Mrs Chrisparkle nor I can actually remember seeing the film of Ladies in Lavender, so seeing the stage production was certainly a chance to appreciate the story for the first time. There was a big “oooh” of excitement when it was announced at the subscription season launch that this production would star Hayley Mills. I was certainly responsible for one of the “oooh”s. My only concern at the time was they would need to cast another actress of sufficient clout to keep it balanced – but I needn’t have worried as they have in the form of Belinda Lang.

And what a palpable sense of 1937 Cornish claustrophobia they really do conjure up. From the moment the curtain rises on their unravelling wool whilst listening to the wireless, meticulously planning the timing and the construct of the evening’s cocoa, you understand that, by today’s standards, and using Shirley Valentine’s phrase, these are two little lives inhabiting a very little world. But the storm that scares them into an early night also provides them with the biggest shake-up they’ve probably ever experienced – the discovery the next morning of a young man washed up on the beach. By the time he’s been rescued, seen by Dr Mead and put to bed under the protection of Aunt Elizabeth’s counterpane, their lives will be changed forever; as, for good measure, will the mysterious young Andrea’s too.

What must the world have been like in 1937 – a pretty scary place, I would imagine. The local community would be highly suspicious of an eastern European, fluent in German, suddenly appearing in their community. Added to which, another foreigner, Olga, unexpectedly moves to the area, allegedly to improve her painting skills, but she wants to make contact with him. Are they spies? Was his sudden appearance on the shore somehow staged? Are the genteel Widdington sisters in any danger? Surely not, you think – but as the plot opens out there is a nagging doubt in the back of your mind. In the end you realise your concerns were unfounded – the truth was much simpler and more honest because what the story is all about is the simple attraction Ursula feels for Andrea.

At first, the sisters are competitive in his fascination for them, vying for the privilege to assist his bedside needs, childishly arguing over who saw him first. But it is Ursula rather than Janet who lingers, reads him the story of The Little Mermaid, and for whom the fascination develops into love. Of course, this love is unrequited for a gazillion reasons – mainly age difference, background, ambition – and of course the simple reason that he doesn’t actually fancy her. Dr Mead is also smitten with Olga – one gets the feeling that the late Mrs Mead wasn’t really a party animal – and his approaches are also ignored. When he’s trying gently to chat her up on the beach he points out a local folly – then goes on to describe it as not really a folly, as it was built by a local worthy to escape from his wife. That’s the metaphor for the play – this love for unsuitable, younger people may seem like folly, but in reality it’s not; it’s an escape, but it’s also likely to be unsuccessful.

The heart-warming thing about this story is that no one really criticises Ursula for her love. Why shouldn’t she love Andrea? There’s a beautiful penny-drop moment when Andrea sees Ursula crying outside in the garden – that’s when he understands the truth, and there’s no denying the strength of the emotions between either of them from that moment. The story ends as it must with Ursula, Janet and the Doctor, all listening to the wireless, together but separate, and coping with their various levels of sadness; the final hand-holding between the two sisters suggesting they will return to their previous existence, supporting each other as needed.

It’s a fantastic production of a charming play. Hayley Mills and Belinda Lang present you with an acting masterclass that’s so natural you completely suspend belief that they’re on a stage. Hayley Mills becomes a girl again as she loses herself to the mysterious Andrea, helping him learn the language by sticking English words on pieces of furniture like a game, and getting selfish and defensive when presented with the prospect of his moving on. Of course she’s demurely well behaved; serene and controlled on the exterior, but with emotions working nineteen to the dozen under the surface. She has a beautiful, expressive voice combining clarity and vulnerability in a riveting way; an infectious enthusiasm, and a look that can drive you to tears. As you would expect, it’s a superb performance.

Keeping her in check as much as possible, Belinda Lang as the slightly bossier sister Janet is superbly well cast. She brings out all the excellent “no nonsense” nuances of the character, but even her defences get breached as the arrival of Andrea brings to mind her lost Peter, who went to war and never came back – that whole element of the plot is so beautifully and subtly written, incidentally. I very much enjoyed her snooty reaction to the appearance of Olga on her land, and her otherwise hearty good nature brings out a lot of the humour of the story as she too gives an exceptional performance.

There is a third member of the household, Dorcas, played by Carol Macready, who acts as cook, maid and general factotum, never missing an opportunity to puncture any pomposity or reveal a hypocrisy. Kind hearted but brusque, hers is a great comic turn, and she makes the most of the comedy opportunities that the script generously provides – we particularly loved her gentle awakening of the hungover Andrea. It was very enjoyable to see her on the Royal stage again, as she was excellent in Eden End last year.

Robert Duncan’s Dr Mead has nice stiff-upper-lip bluster but convincingly allows us to get under his skin to see his inner sadness and his wish to partner up again – maybe with the lovely Olga, maybe not. His brief silent appearance on the beach when he espies Andrea apparently serenading Olga with the violin spoke volumes. A very thoughtful and affecting performance.

As the mysterious Andrea, to be honest Robert Rees doesn’t have a great deal to do in the first half of the play except speak in a Polish accent and look either surprised or delighted. But as the role develops he also gives a very good performance, with his innocent pleasure of Olga’s company, his childish rage when he realises the sisters have prevented him from seeing her, and his tender reaction to his understanding of Ursula’s feelings for him.

The final member of the cast is Abigail Thaw as Olga, a cool customer with Dr Mead, an interloper in the sisters’ garden and the eventual encourager of Andrea’s talent, all of which she performs with spirited aplomb and that slight air of mystery that just makes you wonder if she has an “agenda”. Another really good performance.

The story takes place in four specific locations – the beach, the sisters’ front room, the garden and the upstairs bedroom. The Royal only has a little stage! But the set inventively uses every possible space and successfully squeezes in all the locations; and combined with simple but effective lighting it works a treat. Nitpicking, I only have two slightly critical observations: violins have to be played during the course of the play and – although I’m no expert – I’m not entirely sure Mr Rees’ arm movements with the bow could actually make the sound the violin was purporting to emit. His movement was very smooth, slow and regular even when the tune got a bit funky. Secondly, I think the very final scene would be improved if we didn’t see the figure of Andrea playing the violin in the distant corner – it detracted from what was otherwise a fully realistic presentation all the way through, and as an image it was totally eclipsed by the movingly stricken expressions on the faces of the rest of the cast in that final tableau.

But it’s an ace production of a very charming play, acted magnificently and a real spellbinder throughout. It would be a crime if it were not to be seen elsewhere after it finishes its run in Northampton and its time at the Oxford Playhouse in May. We were actually wondering if it might – just might – have something of the “End of the Rainbow” in its future. All the ingredients are there to make it a potentially huge success. Definitely recommended!

Italy – Verona

Posted on April 18, 2012 by therealchrisparkle

If regular readers noted an absence of theatre reviews a few weeks ago it’s because Mrs Chrisparkle and I were on our travels again. This time accompanied by my Lady Duncansby, we flew to Verona, where we spent two nights, then travelled by train to Padua for one night, on again to Venice for two nights, and then cruised on board the MSC Magnifica to Bari, Katakolon, Izmir, Istanbul and Dubrovnik, before returning back to Venice, taking the train back to Verona and flying home. I hope to cover all that in the next few weeks!

Originally we had booked the week’s cruise, but decided we wanted to spend more time in Venice. Checking all the online flight brokers, flights out to Venice were all pretty pricey – I guess it’s a popular (as well as expensive) destination. This gave me the idea of looking further afield, and I came up with the solution of Verona. Only an hour or so from Venice by train, and a much cheaper flight. Also we didn’t have to be humiliated by Ryanair staff, yay! It was a service provided by good old British Airways.

There was one major disappointment about the BA flight however; no food! I thought they always bunged you at least a snack, if not a meal. But unless you were travelling in first or business, you just got a drink and a clean-up sachet. Not much to clean up, really. And bizarrely, unlike the dreaded Ryanair where you have to buy everything, there was no provision of selling food either. So if you didn’t have a nibble in Gatwick, you were going to stay hungry until you got to Italy.

Verona airport is not terribly far from the city but you wouldn’t want to walk it with all that luggage, so your choices are to get the airport/railway station bus service (every 20 minutes) or to get a taxi. I always have an anxiety about just getting into a taxi at a foreign airport, particularly if I don’t speak the language – I always fear that it will result somewhere between getting ripped off for 20 times the real cost of the journey and everyone getting raped and murdered and slung in a ditch. So I decided to pre-book a taxi through Airport City Transfer, who charged 40 euros for the direct trip from the airport to our hotel. Most other similar services wanted to charge 50 euros. I have to say that the transfer worked a dream – I got all the email communication I was promised including clear instructions; the driver was there on our arrival, he took our bags and put them into his nice clean posh Mercedes, drove us straight to our hotel, unloaded the bags and just asked for the 40 euros. A super service, and I would thoroughly recommend it.

Our hotel was the Hotel Accademia. I chose it because it was “number two” in popularity on Trip Advisor. I see it is now “number one” and I am not at all surprised. It’s a lovely hotel, with very helpful and polite staff, comfortable rooms and bathrooms, a generous breakfast and is superbly located. It also has a discreet and relaxing small bar at the back where you can wind down after a long days’ sightseeing or a long night’s wining and dining.

So, off we went to explore. We only had a little time on our first evening before dinner, so we just followed our noses. One thing you have to say about Verona – and it was obvious from the drive in from the airport – it’s stunningly beautiful. The architecture, the colours, the shops, the people – they all reek style. Elegance just seems to appear naturally. Not a place for bargain shopping, I should add: I found a nice trendy black bomber jacket in one of the boutiques that I thought might suit me, but then dropped it like a hot brick when I saw how much it cost – 7,000 euros. You’d need Jessie J’s income to forget about that particular price tag.

The hotel is just around the corner from the Piazza Erbe, so that became our favourite local haunt. Elegant old palazzo type buildings enclose a market square, mainly selling tourist type stuff but not exclusively; frescos adorn the upper storeys of attractive looking bars and cafes; there’s a charming old Roman statue in the middle of the fountain; and the wonderful old Venetian lion statue atop its column. It’s a genuinely lovely place. Not over pretty; not over serious. Just the kind of place where life takes place and you feel privileged to share in it.

The cityscape here is dominated by the Torre dei Lamberti, that rises beside the old law court in the adjacent Piazza dei Signori. We decided early on that we weren’t going to attempt its 84 metre ascent, although I expect the view is stunning. We wandered away from the Torre and discovered a courtyard that was covered in graffiti. Mrs C and Lady D strolled round the yard, which was full of backpacking students, whilst I looked more closely at the graffiti. We carried on, slightly bemused. It was only about 24 hours later that I realised this was the Juliet’s balcony complex, and, basically, we missed it. Never mind – a balcony’s a balcony at the end of the day.

We followed the Vias Cappello and Leoni and turned right opposite San Fermo Maggiore, which we would visit more properly the next day, and continued walking round until we found ourselves outside the famous Arena – very unspoilt and mysterious looking at night. Alongside the arena is the Piazza Bra, a long square lined with tasty if touristy looking restaurants. After a couple of false starts we ended up in one of them; regrettably I can’t remember its name but it was comfortable and the food was very good. What I did admire – and this was not the only time it happened on this trip – I asked the waiter to recommend a suitable local wine for the meals we had chosen and his recommendatio came right at the cheap end of the wine list – and it was excellent. Quite unlike the rip-off experience I just avoided in Rio last year. After all that walking, eating, and general travelling, it was bedtime – or should have been. A brief dip into the hotel bar for a nightcap, and we were done in. But then we couldn’t resist nip out again to the Piazza Erbe for a late night drink, and had a jolly nice glass of Chianti at the Caffe Brasserie Filippini.

I had meticulously planned the next day’s sightseeing – one module in the southern part of the city and another in the north. But first we thought we ought to time the walk to the railway station in case we didn’t go by taxi the next day. My advice – don’t bother. For one thing, we never actually found the railway station, even though we had a clear map to follow. Secondly, who wants to drag cases all that way – including lots of cobbles. You’re on holiday – it’s just not worth it. Get your hotel to book you a taxi. It’s a ten minute drive, and you won’t regret a cent.

Walking back into town the first place on my list was Juliet’s Tomb. What an odd experience this is! First of all, Juliet is a fictitious character. Some bright spark in the 1930s thought they would create a tomb for her, purely to satisfy the needs of tourists – he didn’t mention anything about the needs of his own bank balance. So her tomb is in fact an empty sarcophagus in the crypt of San Francesco al Corso, which presumably at some earlier time housed the remains of some other unfortunate late person. It’s atmospherically quite creepy though; and the church itself has been converted to a museum with frescos and other art works, which are well worth a look. The guards here are keen as mustard to make sure you aren’t doing anything untoward with their exhibits; but they are chatty and informative, and above all happy to see you finding it interesting.

Strolling past the old city walls at via Pallone and some amusing frescos in via Dietro Pallone, we found ourselves once again at the Church of San Fermo Maggiore. It’s a fascinating place, and well worth paying the entrance fee, as it’s essentially two churches in one – a lower church begun in 1065 by Benedictine monks and an upper church restored sometime in the 14th century. The lower church feels very crypt-like, and Lady D found it a bit spooky. It has a huge ship’s keel ceiling though. Nice frescos and some good solid hinges on the big wooden doors – always a satisfying sight.

Retracing our steps from the previous evening, we walked round to the Arena, resisting the temptation to pose for a photograph with an out of work actor dressed as a gladiator. Apparently, it’s the third largest Roman amphitheatre in the world, after the Colosseum in Rome and that at Santa Maria Capua Vetere near Naples. Of course, this is where the opera is famously performed, but there was none on whilst we were there. It was fun just to explore the place – hopping around seats and rows, in and out of entrances and exits, playing Christians and Lions and largely ignoring the roped off no-entry areas where some guys were doing some building work – well, we didn’t get in their way and it was perfectly safe. You get some impressive views from the topmost back row all over the city. It gave you a rewarding feeling of being at one with history. Well worth the visit.

Another nice lunch in the Piazza Bra, this time at La Costa, with a great view and friendly service; perfect in the spring sunshine. We crossed the River Adige by Ponte Vittoria and took a quiet charming walk along the river bank, past the Ponte Scaligero – a medieval bridge that got blown up during World War Two and was rebuilt from masonry rescued from the river – along to Ponte Risorgimento and our first view of the tower of San Zeno Maggiore.

San Zeno Maggiore has to count as one of the world’s gmost spectacular churches. Built in the early 12th century, it boasts a fantastic ship’s keel ceiling, a dark and mysterious crypt, fabulous bronze door panels, colourful old frescos – it has it all. San Zeno is Verona’s patron saint; Lady Duncansby was so taken with the place that she has adopted San Zeno as her own personal saint. It’s a wonderful place just to lose yourself for half an hour.

From there we wandered past the Castelvecchio, which looks like a grand old building, but decided not to investigate their art collection as we wouldn’t have enough time to give it the attention it no doubt deserves. Instead we carried on back past the Piazza Erbe and on to the Duomo. It’s another magnificent building, with beautiful art and architecture, and stunning ceilings.

From the river by the Duomo you can look across the water and see more churches and the Roman Theatre. There’s an art to a happy day’s sightseeing – don’t get too exhausted. We would have liked to carry on, but the effect of all this magnificent church art is that you get satiated. I don’t think we could have crammed in another sight. Instead we drifted back to the Piazza Erbe and had a really nice drink and snack at the café that seems to attract the most locals – I can’t remember its name but it’s the one that’s at the farthest north-east corner of the square. Then it was back for a rest and out again for dinner. Using the Trip Advisor app on the iPhone (brilliant!) we discovered Greppia. What a fantastic restaurant. The food and drink was excellent – the ambience buzzy and sophisticated, and the service friendly and efficient. Regular readers will know that Mrs C is a coeliac and they knew precisely what to recommend at this restaurant and it was all delicious. I had the Calf’s Liver, Mrs C the Tagliata beef with rocket salad and Lady D the pumpkin risotto. It was a super little find.

A day is certainly not long enough to do Verona justice – but we did our best! Sophisticated and friendly – which don’t always go together – we loved it. The next day we would be taking the train to Padua.

Eurovision 2012 – The ones that got away

Posted on April 17, 2012 by therealchrisparkle

It’s that time of year again, gentle reader, when it is my duty to let you hear a few gems that did not make it through their national qualifying heats and therefore will not be gracing the stage of the Crystal Hall in Baku, if they build it on time. It’s been a good year, although perhaps not a great one, for the National Finals. I’m going to start of with an absolute classic. Petter Øien and Bobby Bare got into the final four in Norway with their simple country song, Things Change. It stands out not only because of the different genre, but also because it’s a fine old tune. If Bobby Bare had made it to Baku, he would have been 77 years old; that young whippersnapper Engelbert Humperdinck would be in short trousers by comparison.

Next up is a wonderful dramatic piece from Iceland, not that this year’s Icelandic entry lacks a sense of saga. Hugarro, which my online translator says means “Peace of Mind”, is sung by Magni Asgeirsson. He has one of those voices that makes you think he’s experienced a lot of troubles in his life, and this was his 4th attempt to represent Iceland at the Eurovision Song Contest. Last year he came 2nd with “Eg trui a betra lif”; and this year he slipped down to 3rd, so he’d better pull his socks up in the future. The opening keyboard sound has something of the Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence about it. See what you think.

Over to Hungary now, and a strong final as this year’s Hungarian entry by Compact Disco is definitely one of my favourites. But there was plenty of other prospects to tickle your tunebuds. Take for example this quality ballad, Vizio (Vertigo) performed by the amusingly named Caramel. If you were ever going to name a bloke Caramel, this is not how I would imagine him to look. Maybe he has a soft centre. He won Hungarian Pop Idol in 2005 and is now a judge on the show, so he probably knows his nougats from his pralines.

Double-dipping in Hungary, here’s the song that came draw 2nd with Vizio, Learning to let go by Gabor Heincz, or Heincz Gabor if you prefer. It couldn’t be more different from Mr Caramel’s offering, as it’s light of note and jaunty of step, one of those songs that require you to hop from one side to another in your brain as it progresses. He was a backing singer in the Eurovision a couple of years ago, and the song’s a jolly little thing with a certain je ne sais quoi; if I knew quoi, I would tell you.

I know what you’re thinking – where are the girls? Well here’s one. Ditte Marie from Denmark singing Overflow, another bright upbeat dancy little number that came nowhere in Aalborg. It probably doesn’t examine the human condition in any great depth, but you can have too much philosophy. Wearing an ice queen leotard rummaged out of the seconds bin – check out the rips on her arms – she does a nice line in stage-strutting without it ever being over-the-top. It’s certainly jollier than the song that will represent Denmark this year. Have a listen.

I feel like a touch of the Baltics after that, so let’s nip over to Estonia avoiding the “Kuula” – I’ll dissect that one day soon – and keeping it light let’s have a listen to You’re Not Alone by Birgit Õigemeel (try saying that after a few bottles of Saku) and Violina, which I think of as a prettier version of the James Last Orchestra. Birgit won the first season of Estonian Idol and has recorded loads of singles. This song came 7th in their national final and I think was under-rated. Admittedly it’s not as good as the wonderful Violina/Rolf Junior attempt from 2010, “Maagiline päev”, but I think it deserves an honourable mention here.

Look I don’t want to bore you for too long so I’ll just suggest a couple of others for you. Over in Austria, a chap named Norbert Schneider sang this very “different” number called Medicate my blues away. It couldn’t be further away from the Trackshittaz. Norbert’s into his blues in a big way, and although this wouldn’t normally be my Tasse Tee, I rather like its smooth chirpiness. It’s the title track of his new album too. It didn’t make the superfinal in Austria – probably to his credit.

Whilst we’re in Austria, have a listen to Englishman James Cottriall who also failed to make the superfinal with his song, Stand Up. He moved to Vienna as part of his German and Philosophy degree at Nottingham University, where his part-time busking and other gigs took off so well that he remained there to pursue his music career – very successfully as it turns out. Stand Up is a nice anthemic song and doesn’t feature rappers with dodgy lyrics or a bearded lady.

Time for one more – and it’s over to Latvia, where there were a few good contenders to represent the country. Whilst I think Anmary’s Beautiful Song, that will be in Baku, was probably the perfect choice, it would be remiss not to include this final song in this memorial to songs that you might never hear again. Music Thief is a silly, funny song about plagiarism, with lyrics stolen from other songs and with musical elements you’ll recognise from elsewhere too. The lead singer’s voice gives you hope that one day you too could have a recording career. I’d like the Mad Show Boys come back next year with something equally daft.

If you got this far – and listened to the songs too – well done you. Feel free to post a comment if you like or hate any of them or if you have other suggestions. I’ll be examining this year’s proper entries soon, so you have been warned.