salford
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Three weeks since my last trip into theatre land. I’ve been gadding in foreign climes, being all la-di-dah and that. And I’m back. And I’m back at the ultimate cat pub, The Kings Arms. Coming in a close second is the Blind Beggar in the East End, synonymous not only with me going on two
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Jesus Christ Superstar indeed. I loved it. Absolutely loved it. Hoping for a more sophisticated, somewhat less basic lead in to a blog post review of my theatrical experience of a production in the Greater Manchester area? I choose childlike exuberance on this occasion. My regular reader will be more than au fait with the
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Years, I’ve been in a state of tension. For many reasons, granted. But akin to a reality TV show fan, nervously scrolling through online forums, terrified to uncover some spoiler from the latest episode before they’ve had chance to catch up (I say all that like that’s also not me), I’ve spent years, years, avoiding
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The boardgame Cluedo had a special place in my family’s hearts growing up. Once I’d got everything I could from Rings on your Fingers, Matching Pairs and Ludo, it was time to graduate to the heady heights of Monopoly and Cluedo. And given my maiden name is Peacock, we of course found it oh so
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I’m sat writing this looking out on Salford Docks. Well strictly speaking Salford Quays. Well strictly speaking, one of the Basins, with all its accoutrements; bridge(s), birds, runners, dog-walkers, lanyard bedecked workers, high-rises… But not the high-rises that one would have come to expect from Salford. A whole different shinier, floor-to-ceiling windowier animal. And yet
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An Imitating the Dog and Leeds Playhouse co-production, directed by Andrew Quick, Pete Brooks and Simon Wainwright, and performed by Georgia-Mae Myers and Nedum Okonyia. A storm gathers outside. In an ordinary home, the lights flicker, a radio crackles, and an extraordinary tale begins. As a couple confront their own fears about impending parenthood, the
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Nostalgia ain’t what it used to be, goes the old witticism. Last night was pure nostalgia. A knowing nostalgia. A trip back to a 90s televisual treat none of us really expected was coming. But come it did, as Drop the Dead Donkey marks the 30th anniversary (yes 30) with The Reawakening! Starring the original
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I write this swathed in aptness as I prepare for a return to Shakespeare country; Stratford-upon-Avon this weekend. The weekender was originally intended to be more Butlins, Black Grape and Boo Radleys, and altogether less Bard, but when flooding takes out your chalet, substituting a Shiiine indie festival for Shakespeare felt the obvious move. But
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I know that Simon Nye is known for more than More Behaving Badly, but I really hope he’ll forgive me for bringing it up in the first sentence of this blog post (Neil Morrissey? consider this your 5 minute warning…). A 90s teenager, Men Behaving Badly (cough, the BBC years) was indeed a jewel in
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Wasteman was. a. riot. And to think I nearly missed it? For some reason I’m terrible with Instagram direct messages. I seem to have a blind spot in even seeing them but thank goodness I finally found Joe Leather’s invitation to check out the show. This morning I signed upto Threads so let’s see how
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I live oppositeish The Lowry Theatre and from my apartment I have been able to see the big red foreboding (not sure why foreboding – I guess it’s the redness of it all, the slightly off way the words are configured, the specific word bones itself?) billboard poster from my apartment for some weeks now.
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If last night’s party was anything to go by, the Nordoff & Robbins Northern Music Awards in November is going to be top. drawer. But what is this Northern Music Awards? I hear you say. Who are Nordoff & Robbins? And speak more of this launch party! Well, my imaginary friends… Two words, Music Therapy.
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I have a few stock phrases I’m only too conscious that I find myself rolling out time and time again. You see, I’m a bit funny with texture (context:food)I don’t like how it tastes of wet (context:also food)I’m not really into fantasy(context books, film, tv, theatre…) Just me. But I’ve realised I was when I
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As Opera North say, La Traviata is perfect for opera newbies as well as diehard opera fans. And I would wholly support this. I guess I would be placed in the middle lane in that I really do enjoy opera, have seen a respectable number of different productions but have yet to reach double figures.
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It’s 1934 in the heartland of America and we meet a group of wayward souls who cross paths in a time-weathered guesthouse. Standing at a turning point in their lives, they realize nothing is what it seems. But as they search for a future, and hide from the past, they find themselves facing unspoken truths
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My partner and I moved recently. From suburbia to ‘urbia’. From a house to an apartment. I think like a lot of people about a lot of life choices, a penny dropped, at some point, over the pandemic. I won’t speak for my partner, Actual Manc, but have sought his blessing to light-touch invade his
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Straightaway, my takeaway on this play is how there are some incredibly talented actors in this country and there is largely a huge disconnect between talent and plaudits. Much of this, of course, as in life, is to do with how commercially viable a vehicle is. And I get that. Not everything is for consumption
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I didn’t know what to do expect from this production. I mean I was aware of the story – it’s all love and hate and death and windy moors. But the description of this production told me it was… Shot through with music, dance, passion and hope… and I was admittedly reticent. This could be
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Friendship is a funny thing. I think the Covid panny-d has caused a lot of reflection on this matter. Who did we miss, who did we not miss, who did we keep in contact with, who did we not. Who did we keep in contact with but then not once we re-entered the world again.
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I’ve been tussling with this. I’ve been going back and forth. The grown up writer in me (it’s there somewhere) tells me to not be so obvious, cliched and obvious again. The forever child in me behind the blog reminds me that I’m here to document my experiences, thoughts, feelings, passions, obsessions and delectations. Yes
honorary manc 