Iolanthe, Wilton's Music hall
Wednesday, went to see the all-male Iolanthe at Wilton's Music Hall. (the really awesome last-surviving original victorian one I think I've mentioned before. also does nice food.) Gilbert and Sullivan, all the bells, whistles and topsy-turviness you'd expect. Plot is 'fairy married a mortal, got banished for it, her son now wants to marry a girl but the guardian who's the head of the House of Lords disapproves'. AKA 'who bloody cares, it's Gilbert and Sullivan. Suspend your disbelief in the premise, enjoy the piss-takes of social niceties and politics and set your giggle-meter on high. Also, there are coalition jokes.'
Starts with a bunch of schoolboys breaking into the music hall, giggling over all the props, then one finds a copy of Iolanthe and settles down to read. It's a nice opener since it signals them really making use of the setting, and then all the costumes and props being clearly scavenged from the dressing-up box - the peers are wearing dressing gowns and ties and curtains, the fairies cobbled together victorian underwear and plimsoles, wings made out of variously bunting, lace curtains and doilies. Plus somehow it confers an innocent edge you don't often get - it never quite tips over into camp or lechery, never mind that the fairies are fairies in every sense of the word.
Anyway. Performances of the stand-out: the Fairy Queen (middle-aged against all the twinks, but with fabulous pince-nez glasses and poise), the stunning falsettos of the two 'female' leads - the boy playing Iolanthe could break your heart at one point - the two dukes with a camaraderie so high that they couldn't hurt the other one for the sake of a girl, and a really good baritone/manliness and stage presence from Iolanthe's son. Fair bit of the Lee Mead about him. The fairy chorus's choreography, especially the handsignals. Oh my days, the handsignals.
It's on tile May. Get thee hence and raid the buffet.
Starts with a bunch of schoolboys breaking into the music hall, giggling over all the props, then one finds a copy of Iolanthe and settles down to read. It's a nice opener since it signals them really making use of the setting, and then all the costumes and props being clearly scavenged from the dressing-up box - the peers are wearing dressing gowns and ties and curtains, the fairies cobbled together victorian underwear and plimsoles, wings made out of variously bunting, lace curtains and doilies. Plus somehow it confers an innocent edge you don't often get - it never quite tips over into camp or lechery, never mind that the fairies are fairies in every sense of the word.
Anyway. Performances of the stand-out: the Fairy Queen (middle-aged against all the twinks, but with fabulous pince-nez glasses and poise), the stunning falsettos of the two 'female' leads - the boy playing Iolanthe could break your heart at one point - the two dukes with a camaraderie so high that they couldn't hurt the other one for the sake of a girl, and a really good baritone/manliness and stage presence from Iolanthe's son. Fair bit of the Lee Mead about him. The fairy chorus's choreography, especially the handsignals. Oh my days, the handsignals.
It's on tile May. Get thee hence and raid the buffet.