While I have been reading a lot of books lately this is a review of another kind.
Last night I made the trek into the city for dinner and a spot of theatre. I say trek because from where I live if you want to go out somewhere nice, and eat before a show you have to be ready to leave your house at four in the afternoon when it’s not even night time.
We had an excellent and leisurely dinner at El Phoenician in Walsh Bay. I ate until I could eat no more. Though this morning I kind of wish that they did doggy bags for the food we did have to leave behind on the platter because I could definitely go some skewered chicken and hummus right about now.
Normally I would give myself enough time to have a bit of a browse of gleebooks before the show, but luckily for my wallet I only had enough time to visit ‘the facilities’ (is that a common euphemism I wonder? Will everyone understand I mean bathroom? Should I even be mentioning such a thing in a blog post? Too late now) before we were being called to our seats. I really wanted to see this production because Hugo Weaving was in it. And because it seems they hardly ever put on The Scottish Play. I like Macbeth as a play because it’s all action. There is not a lot of would searching, even though he feigns indecision, you always know he wants that crown and will probably do anything to get and keep it. And it was fun hearing Elrond speak Macbeth’s lines.
Now here is the funny thing about this production is that we had two sets of seats. Before the director had really set his vision for the play we were sitting in Row R. Then the director decided to move the audience to the front of the theatre so we were effectively sitting on the stage, while the actors used the normal seats as part of the production. The only problem with this is that the theatre’s acoustics were not really designed in the way (the other problem is that temporary seating is incredibly uncomfortable and not particularly conducive to keeping still during a live performance but that is by the by). This proved to be too much to overcome for Lady Macbeth. She was just terrible. So bad that she almost coloured my whole appreciation of the production. She mumbled, so that you could only really catch every second phrase or so. And she was so insipid, so limp, I was just waiting for her to see spots and do herself in. Lady Macbeth is one of Shakespeare’s best female characters. The only one that really thinks for herself and steers to events rather than being steered by them. The director missed the point here I think. The only good thing about her performance is that she was the one wielding the fantastical dagger that leads Macbeth to Duncan’s chamber and I think this is exactly how it should be. But when Macbeth lost it at dinner over Banquo’s ghost it seemed more like a crazy off between the two of them where it should be a chance for Lady Macbeth to prove her strength yet again and take control.
Everything else was interesting and intriguing though. The Witches were thoroughly creepy, and they left out all those bits that are unnecessary (I ask you, what is the point of Donalbain?). I did miss my favourite line though, Banquo was too well harassed to properly enunciate fly Fleance, fly. But there was this wonderful glittering curtain, like sequins raining from the rafters, throughout the final act that I totally want for my living room.
I had dealings with another spot earlier this month too. Not the yellow dog kind of spot, but a speck of dirt that had been stuck on my belly button or navel if you prefer. For as long as I can remember, so at least this year and perhaps even last, I have had this speck of dirt stuck in my belly button. At first I thought it was a blackhead and so tired to squeeze it out but to no avail. I should probably give you some imagery here and describe what my navel looks like.
I have what I like to call and inny/outty. So it is not so deep that you can’t see into it or that you may lose a finger in it like most normal innys (normal my experience anyway) nor is it popped out like a little button just itching to be pushed every time you see it like your regular outty. It’s somewhere in between. Deep enough that I could put a lentil or some other small grain in there if I wished but with a small bump like protrusion that creates crevices and creases for things, like dirt to be wedged in.
Well let me tell you that this speck no longer resides within my belly button. Why you may ask? Well my belly button is now so stretched, so huge I could probably fit a five cent piece in there now. So I just brushed it right on out.
So you see spots don’t need to be psychologically damaging if you just deal with them properly.
Coming up on my next blog: I should really talk about some of those books I have been reading. Or at least blog more than once in a month. Maybe I will give myself an October challenge to blog every day again. September is too soon.