The big day

Have I mentioned that I love the Olympics? Have I? I fell in love with the Olympics in 1984, the year that I bought a tiny Olympics workbook and carefully filled in the winner of every medal. I don't still have the book and I don't remember all the medallists, but I remember that it was the year of Carl Lewis, and of Evelyn Ashford, of Budd and Decker, of Seb Coe's winning grimace, of Daley Thompson's backflip. Obviously mainly I was obsessed with the athletics, I now realise.

And then on 6th July 2005, we won the right to host the Games, and I cried with joy. And then, on 7th July 2005, as I was sitting in my office in the City of London, four men blew up the tube, and I thought London would never be the same again. And now, seven years later, London is exactly the same as it ever was, except the Olympic Games are here, and it's brilliant.

I have thoughts, many thoughts, about the opening ceremony, but I'll save them for another time. For now, here's a picture of me and my best friend at Eton Dorney on the opening morning of the rowing. Here's to a brilliant fortnight.

ATP: An update

The turmoil continues for those of us still affected by the non-arrival of our Dutch ATP tickets.

Some good news to start with: I have seen on Twitter today that a few people received their tickets this morning. I had a text from a friend to say hers arrived today as well. So some deliveries do still seem to be working their way through the system.

Now on to the less good news: what will happen if the tickets don't arrive. I have just had a long chat to ATP about my two orders.

Order 1 - this is not a disaster. The tickets I bought in Order 1 were part of ATP's official allocation and can therefore be reprinted to be collected from ATP's head office, which is near Waterloo station (conveniently enough the station I commute in and out of on a daily basis.) This might not be great for everyone, but it works for me.

Order 2 - this is not good. This order was filled from tickets that ATP acquired from another ticket reseller. This ticket reseller does not have a reprint capability so any tickets lost from this order are lost for good. ATP are attempting to provide tickets for the same sessions, but are only able to do so for one of the two events - for the other event, they are asking me to choose a different sport entirely as they cannot provide tickets for that event.

My feelings about this:
a) At least I will get some of my tickets.
b) At least ATP are trying to find a solution.
c) I am absolutely furious that something as simple as sending an envelope from the Netherlands to London has been so entirely buggered up.
d) I am hoping like mad the postman has turned up while I have been at work today.

If you have not yet heard from ATP regarding your order, send them an e-mail straight away with the reference number in the subject line. Alternatively, give them a call (the number is on their website). I might not necessarily like the answers I have been given today, but at least I have had a conversation about it.

The Torch relay and whether I thought it was cool

So, the Olympic torch rolled through my beloved hometown of Surbiton this morning. I went to see it. I mean, obviously I went to see it, I had to go and see it, it's the Olympics, I live two minutes from the route and if everything went to schedule it would only make me 10 minutes late for work, so obviously I went to see it.

Not a bad turn-out from the Big Surb. The crowds were two or three people deep along the high street, which generally only happens when there hasn't been a 71 bus along for half an hour or so. Seeing the torch itself was pretty cool (taking as read my basic issues with the torch's Nazi back story) and the young chap running with it looked both knackered and a bit overwhelmed, both of which seemed entirely plausible reactions to me. He was trying so hard to smile and not quite managing it that it made my heart hurt a bit with sympathy.

Also cool: the motorcycle outriders. They rode along super-close to the crowd but did not appear to mow anyone down or drive over any toes, and they high-fived all the kids in the front row as they went by. Neat work.

Not so cool, though: all the other stuff. The one guy doing tricks on his BMX was very good, but why was there only one guy? Why did Lloyds TSB have a branded bus and pack it full of people if they were all going to just sit there and look a bit sheepish? Why wasn't there an open top London bus? Or two? Or TEN? There should have been ten open top London buses. It's LONDON, people! Where are the London images in this torch relay for London 2012?

Finally, here is a rule that I believe the UK should live by: No Cheerleaders Ever. They're always a bit crap, and we are not a nation that responds well to being exhorted to cheer by dancers with pompoms who are always a bit cold and cross and embarrassed and mainly look like they want to be somewhere else.

The big blue bus of cheerleaders drove through Surbiton this morning, waving as enthusiastically as they could at the crowd while simultaneously making it quite clear that they were already bored rigid at 8.48am, while a man with a microphone yelled, "Come on Surbiton, make some noise!" We looked at him. He yelled again. We responded with a polite cheer and a smattering of applause. That is the suburban way. And lo, it was beautiful.

ATP and the saga of the Dutch Olympic tickets

For anyone who, like me, has been digging around for Olympic tickets on various European sites for the last however-many-months, the last month has been a nailbiting wait to see if these various Danish, Dutch, Deutsch and other websites could deliver. Top prizes to the Germans, who sent their tickets promptly in a lovely blue folder with complimentary lanyards.

Less good news for those of us waiting for the Dutch, however. As of this morning, I am still awaiting delivery. Rather than continuing to impotently send e-mails which only generate automated responses, I decided to call them up for a chat.

Firstly, don't call the London number. They haven't got a clue and will simply tell you to call the Dutch number.

I did call the Dutch number, and I spoke to an extremely polite chap with perfect English. He told me that Royal Mail actually opened a load of the envelopes as they were suspicious about the contents (they were sent insured, which means apparently that they travel in sealed crates) and then had to repack everything with new envelopes, new labels etc, which is why everything took so long. They cleared Customs last Thursday and were sent to the central sorting office. From there, they expect things to be delivered in between 2 to 4 days, so it could be as late as tomorrow or Wednesday. They are asking everyone what their absolute deadline for receipt is (factoring in getting tickets to friends, travel to London etc) and are considering various contingencies such as ticket reprint, collection at venue, collection at the London office (which is in Waterloo) etc.

If you still don't have your tickets, send them an e-mail with the reference number in the subject line, and they will send you a personal response by the end of the day once they have rounded up all the necessary information. I felt much reassured by the call, though I must say that I will not feel truly relaxed until I am holding my athletics tickets in my sweaty palm...

Yes, I do still exist

Let's not waste time on the reasons I haven't posted for 18 months. You will not read them, and I would be making them up. But I'm back. Why am I back? Because it's the OLYMPICS, BABY! I love them, I'll be blogging about them, so do check back in over the next few weeks if that sounds remotely interesting.

I forgot about Matilda

Three musicals to report back on. I love musicals. But you probably knew that.

Matilda - RSC, Stratford

To my eternal shame (well, about 10 seconds of shame if I’m honest - it’s only a blog), I missed out Matilda from my January round-up. And it’s so good! If I am completely honest, I didn’t exactly come out humming the Tim Minchin songs - clever though the lyrics are, the music doesn’t stick in your head. The honourable exception to that is Miracle, the opener, which is funny, sharp and clever, and opens the show on exactly the right off-beat note that a Roald Dahl adaptation deserves. The whole show, though, is exuberant, warm-hearted and full of jokes for adults and kids. It also has some wildly enthusiastic dance routines and a couple of routines with swings and a gym vault that had my heart in my mouth. Special mention to Bertie Carvel (who I always love) for his grotesquely brilliant headmistress. If this moves to London, don’t miss it. And tell every parent you know to take their kids - they’ll adore it.

The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee - Donmar

Another month, another madly exuberant musical. Again, songs which didn’t really stay with me, but with a script as funny as this one, it doesn’t matter in the slightest. I didn’t stop laughing from the second it started. It’s got some good singing, some enthusiastic dancing (including an excellent cheerleading bit) and I enjoyed every minute. Big fun all round.

Company - Southwark Playhouse

Oooo, I’d never been to the Southwark Playhouse before - I felt so adventurous! I HATE open seating, by the way, I’ll just get that off my chest first. And if you go to see this show, try to sit in the centre bank - I was house left and I missed out on some of the choreographed numbers. In general, though, it’s worth seeing, if only because Company has some of the loveliest musical theatre numbers ever written - Marry Me a Little and Being Alive in particular, but it’s almost craven to single anything out since the whole show is fabulous. The production itself isn’t perfect - a couple of the songs were awkwardly staged, and a bit further down the cast list you’d have to say there are a couple of weaker links. But the leads, especially Rupert Young as Bobby, are charming, and there is a brilliant comic performance from Katie Brayben as April which is almost worth the price of admission on its own. Oh - stand-out vocal performances were Cassidy Janson and Greg Castilioni singing Getting Married Today - both moving and hilarious. In conclusion - well worth seeing.

Only one (maybe two) more theatre trips this month. Then (deep breath) eight (maybe even nine) in March. Yikes.

New Year FAIL

So, I made a new year’s resolution to review every theatre trip I went on. Exciting, right? Imagine how much fun reading them would be. If you dare. My thinking was that I spend a fortune on these bloody tickets - if I am not then sharing my thoughts about the shows with the whole world, what on earth is the point? The world NEEDS MY OPINIONS.

The resolution lasted exactly no shows. I could defend myself, but I think we all know that would just be a waste of typing energy, and my lack of blogging already demonstrates the paucity of said energy. I am weak. Very weak.

I am going to try again for February. First trip is this Wednesday - I bet you’re on tenterhooks. In the meantime, though, here’s a January wrap-up, even though most of this is now out-of-date and my views are of even less relevance than they were back then.

Twelfth Night - Cottesloe

Hmmm. I wanted to love it. I think that was probably the problem. Peter Hall directing Twelfth Night? With Rebecca Hall who I think is ace? I wanted so much to love it that perhaps my expectations got in the way. It’s a perfectly good production, but I wanted magic. Rebecca Hall is as charming as ever, though I like a Viola with a bit more oomph. Simon Callow is... Simon Callow. And it has the most bizarre Orsino I have ever seen (seriously, it’s like he’s in a different production from everyone else - everyone else is playing it straight and this guy sort of prowls and pouts his way around the stage - it’s incredibly distracting). But I liked the melancholy, autumnal feel of the whole thing, and Simon Paisley Day as Malvolio is super and dignified even when suffocated by indignities. Best of all, Charles Edwards is probably the funniest, most sympathetic Sir Andrew I have ever seen - totally stole the show. In short - worth seeing, but don’t kill anyone for a ticket. (I mean, I hope you weren’t planning to, but if you were: DON’T.)

A Flea in Her Ear - Old Vic

Great fun, but we saw Tom Hollander’s understudy. Tom Hollander’s understudy was perfectly fine but he’s not, you know, Tom Hollander. Disappointing. Especially at the prices the Old Vic charges. So I am in the unhappy position of knowing it’s a rather good production but still being unable to recommend it, because when I saw it, it was woefully undercooked.

Barbershopera - Trafalgar Studios

This was a second trip to see a show I very much enjoyed in Edinburgh last summer - did I enjoy the show, or did I enjoy the show because I was seeing it in Edinburgh WITH BEER? It turns out, I enjoyed the show. No mean feat to perform an entire show a cappella in four-part harmony, and all four of the cast perform with a huge amount of energy and focus. That said, this has been through some rewrites since Edinburgh - story-wise, they’re definitely for the better, but the new songs aren’t quite as good as the ones that have been around for a while - I’m sure this will get refined through future performances. I’ll definitely go and see whatever this lot do next - they’re good writers, with a nice line in cheap jokes which, as we know, I adore - I’d love to see them write a full musical, to be honest, where they’re not governed by the a cappella thing. Definitely worth checking out if you like musical comedy (come on, who doesn’t?).

Becky Shaw - Almeida

A fairly new American play - a hit off-Broadway apparently. I loved it. It’s not perfect, by any means - I’d rework the ending, for a start - but it is incredibly funny and acerbic and full of excellent performances. Worth seeing just for David Wilson Barnes, who appeared in the off-Broadway production. He is eerily like Kevin Spacey in this part - by turns laconic, funny, bitter and warm-hearted - a wonderful performance. Whole-heartedly recommended.

Less Than Kind - Jermyn Street

The year of Rattigan begins. Every Rattigan play I have seen has begun gently and quietly and then, before I even know what’s happening, the play has my heart in a vice-like grip and is squeezing gently. They make me laugh and make me tense and make me sad, all at the same time. This production is of a not particularly well-known Rattigan play, and you would have to say it’s not quite the powerhouse play of After the Dance or The Winslow Boy. But it’s a gorgeous, unhistrionic production, filled with unshowy, strong performances, particularly from Sara Crowe and Michael Simkins. I very much hope it has a life after Jermyn Street - if it does, go and see it straight away.

And that’s it for January, other than two failed attempts to see King Lear at the Donmar (don’t ask) and a Rory Kinnear talk at the National about his performance at Hamlet (interesting talk, fantastic performance - try and see it on tour if you can). February brings with it (currently) only three shows - the Donmar, Hampstead and Southwark. Let’s hope I report back rather more quickly this time round...