Sunday, 18 November 2012


Take the little grits to see a local am-dram performance of Macbeth.

I was expecting to watch this performance in the usual manner, i.e. in growing disbelief, as the yawning gap between enthusiasm and skill set (I know that chasm well), is here demonstrated by Belinda from Accounts, launching into her moment as third witch.

That is what I was expecting. By Act I Scene ii, only horror, fear, and pity; none of it wrought by Shakespeare.

By Act II my toes would have curled. By Act III I would have exited the bloody scene because sitting in the third row with my hands clamped over my eyes, peeking between fingers, would be noticed. That is exactly what happened with Sleeping Beauty. The am-dram group gave it an upbeat contemporary turn. Sleeping Beauty was a drug addict, her mother was a prostitute and the prince was off the cast of Shameless. I had to go and sit in the car.

But I am pleased to say that Macbeth was not the humiliation I was expecting. In fact, several members of the am-dram group were quite good. One or two were excellent.

Yes, there was a touch of the Office Administrator about Lady Macbeth, particularly when her ambitious lord, covered in ketchup, crawled out from under the eternal damnation brought by Duncan's bloody murder, and Lady Macbeth tutted and rolled her eyes. There he is, he can't put the paperclips in the right place again. But apart from that, they were good. I made the gritlets analyse the performance in the manner of a local am-dram critic.

Thus, in conclusion. Despite my fear, it all turned out alright.

I am taking that as a lesson for life.

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