Following a delightful Laze-in (which is like a Lay In only not so formal), I headed off to the Borough Markets in order to by some delights for the Weasel Globe outing today. And, delight of delights, I found some Livarot! (As far as I’m aware, Livarot is allowed at the Globe.)
Of course I caught the ferry to London Bridge, noticing with some annoyance that the pier at Canary Wharf now has no seats for those waiting. There used to be a bank of seats but now that’s gone. And the waiting room is under a state of demolition given they are fixing it up. Even so, the actual trip was lovely.
Having bought out most of the cheese shops at the market, I lugged it all around to The Anchor, our usual meeting place along the Thames and just before the Globe. I arrived just in time to see a long line of Weasels appearing out of the pub, grasping glasses, heading for the river terrace. I dumped my cheese and followed suit.
After a few pints we then headed for our usual Gentleman’s Box B in order to see Emma Rice’s final directorial job for the Globe. And all I can say (before I say anything else) is that I am really, really going to miss Emma Rice. Like The Dream last year, Twelfth Night was an extraordinary trip through her imagination. It was fantastic.
Starting like an episode of The Love Boat (Rice set the play in 1979), the play follows the crazy antics of separated twins who wind up falling in love with people who are in love with each other. Of course it all ends happily…except for poor Malvolio (played superbly by Katy Owen who was a brilliant Puck last year).
The entire cast was superb and it’s hard picking a favourite but for me, edging it (just) was Carly Bawden as Maria. But, as I say, it was difficult for any single performer to shine. The ensemble was extremely strong and played together with a perfection that most casts would surely envy. This Twelfth Night had no weaknesses.
The performance was a delightful romp which kept us laughing from start to finale.
Interestingly, John, although he enjoyed the production, was a bit critical saying that “It wasn’t Shakespeare!” which I countered with “Most of it was.” He also didn’t like the fact that the cast was miked up, making it difficult to know who was speaking given the voices came out of the speakers. I sort of agree with this last criticism but it would have been impossible to hear them over the electric band so for that reason I’m thankful for it.
Apart from that quibble, we all left full of joy in search of a suitable drinking establishment in which to spend a few more hours together.
Rather than the normal wandering round all parts of London, we settled into the Rake on the edge of Borough Market. Eventually we even managed to land a table and enough chairs for us all. Here’s a short video of us apart from Lindy who had to go home and sort some Germans out.
Eventually I staggered down to Bankside Pier and, after waiting an age for the next ferry, finally staggered back to the flat where I simply collapsed onto the bed.