brixtonbrood

I've cracked and decided that I must see Rock 'n' Roll - the combination of Stoppard, Rufus Sewell and great reviews outweighs the fact that the Velvet Revolution, Pink Floyd and musings on Marxism don't really push my buttons - I just know I'll kick myself if I don't go before it finishes (end November). He is in no way tempted and will babysit.
It's a tragic sign of how long it's been since I was theatrically current that I nearly fell off my chair at the prices. How can the cheapest seats possibly be thirty quid? My mental map of reasonable prices is wildly out of date (also I'm more used to seeing stuff at the National and Donmar, which subsidise the cheap seats to some extent, whereas this is a bonafide hit in the hard core West End).

Also I am determined to take Small to a panto, no, not a magical Christmas play based on a traditional Romanian folktale thank you very much; something where they pull down lyric sheets for the singalongs, throw sweets to the audience and perform wallpaper-based routines dating from 1784. But not starring anyone from Eastenders (any trad all star cast will have made to measure jokes and routines that will go over Small's head, but I draw the line at soap-based jokes that I won't get either). The irresistable David Hasselhoff has pulled out of the Wimbledon panto and been replaced by the deeply resistable Henry Winkler. Official Best Panto Lead Ever John Barrowman is in Cardiff, which is a shade too far. Ian McKellan does not appear to be giving us his Twanky this year - so the best on offer within easy reach seems to be either the lovely Aled Jones in Richmond or Dick Whittington at the Barbican starring the Cyber Leader in drag written by (boggle) Mark "Shopping and Fucking" Ravenhill (I have doubts as to whether sweeties will be thrown).