Chris had awarded me the singular treat of seeing 'White Christmas' on the big screen at the National Film Theatre on the South Bank. I've seen the film loads of times, of course, but never on a screen bigger than my telly. Since this is a 'proper' film venue then there's no popcorn and coke to buy before-hand (which is half of the fun of going out to see a film) but I sneaked in a bottle of coke anyway.
I loved it! It was great seeing it on a big screen and every now and then I noticed things I don't think I've seen before, such as the nosey housekeeper switching on and off the telephone extension and a light on the wall beside her blinking on and off - I'll need to watch the DVD again but I don't recall that. It was a bit odd seeing it with a roomful of strangers and hearing their laughter at different places. It also meant I had to be extra careful not to loudly criticise Danny Kaye's 'Choreography' sequence (I've never understood what that section has to do with the film other than giving him another showcase moment - pah!). I slag off that sequence every time I see it - it's the law, don'tcha know. But I kept my mouth shut.And you'll never guess how it ends! Yes, with snow floating down and a handy sleigh looking very picturesque in the background as they open the barn doors. Who'd have guessed?
I know it's a sentiment-fest but I don't care. I *like* 'White Christmas' and I loved seeing it on a big screen for the first time. So, thank you for that great treat.
Afterwards, we wandered along the South Bank and explored the Christmas market as it got darker and the lights shone brighter. It wasn't too cold today but we still found space for some warming hot chocolate with extra cream (I had to remember to clean the 'tache afterwards...). The highlight was a trip on the magic roundabout, all gleaming and golden and with views of Big Ben and Parliament all lit up. My horse was called Robert and he was very strong to carry my weight.
All the eateries were full with lengthy waiting times so we went back to the National Film Theatre to try its restaurant and I left suitably impressed. It's a little bit poncy (well, it would be, wouldn't it?) but the service and food were excellent so I'll add that to my list of trusted places to eat. It also had a very lovely Christmas tree, which is obviously important at this time of year.
Then it was time to hit the exceedingly crowded National Theatre next door to see 'August: Osage County'. I'd heard good things about this production but deliberately haven't read any reviews so I can see it fresh. It's the story of an eventful few weeks in the life of a family in Osage County in which the mother is addicted to pills and the father commits suicide and leaves the rest of the family to work through the results of that act. Joy to the world and all that....
There are lots of twists and turns which I won't spoil for you but I enjoyed it. Other than a narrative of a disfunctional family, I couldn't guess what's it really about (although towards the end there were hints that the family were a metaphor for America). I liked the set - a three-storey house in which the action takes place and the acting was generally fine. A couple of the women let it down through their voices that simply didn't carry well (and yes, I know this is the same cast that played on Broadway) such as the youngest daughter whose voice was mainly in shriek mode. She also looked and played it like someone in their 20s rather than mid-40s.
The eldest daughter, played by Amy Morton, has (at least in my view) all the best lines and plays them perfectly. As eldest, she has a leadership responsibility but seems to be a rubbish mother to her own daughter, she attacks her own mother and does a drugs sweep of the house for the mother's over-prescription of medication. I liked the character, a strong woman taking control and managing her own life (at least on the surface) but was disappointed to see her slobbing out in a dressing gown in the last act, almost as if she's let us down.I quite liked the generational thing going on in the play with the three generations with the middle generation being my generation - 40s with kids of their own, parents beginning to be a problem and grasping at a last chance to be happy themselves.
It's a powerful play and, at over three hours with two half-times, a trifle long. It's a tour de force but I'm not entirely sure where it took us and I'm puzzled by the ending with the mother seeking solace from the Native American housekeeper. A too-obvious image of modern America? Who knows?
So, treats aplenty followed by tube trains and a bus on demand when I needed it - what more could you ask for? Now, into the serious business of Christmas Eve!
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