Platanov

Following the Seagull noticed at reference 1 and followed up at reference 2, we were enticed by email to go to Platanov at the National, a piece of long-unpublished juvenalia, originally weighing in at 5 hours but halved in this Hare adaptation. More or less full house, at least downstairs.

Much the same set as the Seagull, and it served well. Actors properly dressed in sensible period costume. We opened with a servant plucking a duck. The plucking action seemed to us to be very realistic, although it seemed unlikely that the duck would be real: we regretted not having thought to take our opera glasses along, with which we could have taken a closer look. Fair bit of smoking along the way, exercising one of the very few exemptions from the laws about smoking in enclosed places of public entertainment.

Some very funny bits. For example, falling out of trees while lighting fireworks and having the railway come sliding, slithering over a hill as part of setting a new scene. Some nice singing, presumably Russian folk songs.

I found the male lead - James McArdle - very irritating, possibly because of his regional accent. I know that he is supposed to be playing a rather dodgy charecter, but I thought the idea was to pull that off without being dodgy oneself.

The world portrayed seemed very unsatisfactory, with well educated middle class people without proper occupation, leavened by rather less well educated business people, not much better than crooks. Plus real crooks, lurking in the forests & marshes, good for the odd murder if the money was right. I had not realised before that money lenders were the scourge of the Russian countryside in something of the same way that they still are in India. Remembering that they are there for a reason: farming is a very uncertain business and it is only the rich or the lucky who will survive the twists and turns of harvest fortune without occasional recourse to the money lender, aka the bank. A bit like payday lenders in that you might not like them - but they are performing an essential function.

We managed half, leaving at the interval, to spend the journey home pondering about the 75 year old runner, Ray Matthews, who claimed to have run 75 marathons in 75 days. One thought being that I might walk 5 miles a day, but the idea of walking 25 miles a day, never mind running them, was rather daunting. I would need a considerable push to attempt such a thing and I am not at all sure that my legs, ankles and feet would take the strain. I remember stories of well meaning church types on a pilgrimage from London to Canterbury, falling out with ankle and feet problems after only two or three stages. It seems that the Facebook content police had trouble believing his claims too and took them down. See reference 3.

PS: the free cast list would have been much improved by the addition of a few words of description like 'doctor' or 'money lender', in the way of the better translations. Raw Russian names always seem to be terribly difficult - and terribly difficult to connect to the people carrying them on the stage. The role one remembers, the name one does not.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/08/seagull.html.

Reference 2: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/08/frou-frou.html.

Reference 3: http://www.rwrr.co.uk/. At a quick look, inconclusive. Doesn't look too promising, despite the claims in the Metro of the day.