Heard it through the grapevine

My mother has just phoned me.  She’s been trying to get hold of me for the last couple of weeks, but I’ve been mad busy rehearsing and so we haven’t managed to catch up with each other.  Apparently my granny is on the warpath and so Mum was phoning to warn me (and to lay a pre-emptive and much-deserved apology – grr) that there might be a letter arriving in which my grandmother lays down the law.  She does this every so often, although never before to me – due to being the only girl I am generally bathed in a distinctly rosy glow in my granny’s eyes.

On this occasion, however, it seems that she is incensed about the fact that I broke up with S.  Specifically, she feels that the reason she has been given for us breaking up isn’t good enough.  She has been told – by my mother – that the reason I broke up with him is that when I was away on tour for a month I didn’t miss him.  This is true, however there is far more to it than that, stuff which I have not discussed with my mother and don’t intend to go into here.  If Granny expects me to roll over and bow to her opinion when she has only a fraction of the story, she has another think coming – along with her nose, I have inherited her sharp tongue.  I’ve never had cause to use it against her before, but there’s a first time for everything.

Sweet Transvestite

Yes, it was marvellous, thanks.  David Bedella, as Frank ‘n’ Furter, was absolutely fantastic, singing up a storm and appearing far sexier than a man in sparkly lip gloss and a basque ever should do.  For some reason, Suzanne Shaw wasn’t on last night and so the part of Janet (SLUT!) was played by Sarah Boulton, who was also excellent.

Last night’s performance was a special fundraiser for Amnesty International and so there were a fair few famous people knocking around the place.  Before the show I had popped in to McDonalds for something to eat (yeah, I know, but I only had 10 minutes and I was starving) and noticed Vanessa Feltz chomping on a burger.  Lovely.  When I arrived at the theatre (rather overdressed – hardly anyone was in costume, the buggers), my friend was all agog at having just seen Richard O’Brien, who actually came on stage later for the final Time Warp.  He hasn’t changed a bit.  Then when we sat down, who should come and sit next to us but Samantha Bond.  She’s teeny-tiny and my friend managed to make her laugh uproariously with one of his responses during the show (when Janet says, ‘I don’t like a man with a lot of muscles’, he shouted, ‘Just one big one!’  Fnar.)

I must say I was disappointed with the lack of dressing up.  There were a couple of girls in gothic basques (not their usual wear, judging by how self-conscious they looked) and one guy who looked like a Bee-Gee dressed in a pencil skirt, tight tee-shirt and well-stuffed bra (he, on the other hand, appeared more than comfortable), but it would seem that most people had given the costumes a miss.  I decided to keep my coat on until we had sat down and then discreetly draped it over my lap to cover the fact that I was wearing a very short skirt teamed with stockings, but I shifted position and dropped the coat accidentally at the interval, causing my friend to come over a bit unnecessary.  Hehehe.

It was really good to see that the musical director had made a conscious decision not to just do a carbon copy of the film.  Each of the characters had made the parts their own, rather than just singing a karaoke version of the original, so it still seemed fresh, despite being over 30 years old.  The staging was also marvellous and just the right side of kitsch to make it hilarious – the car approaching the castle was particularly inspired. All in all, therefore, a top night out and I highly recommend it.