Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire features one of the most interesting female protagonists in 20th century theatre. I know that ‘interesting’ is typically bland, the sort of mediocre adjective you use to describe your mother’s occasionally dodgy cooking, but I would rank Blanche DuBois up there with Clytemnestra, Emma (from Duncan Macmillan’s People, Places… Read More A Streetcar Named Desire: Blanche
I bloody love Andrew Scott. As Moriarty, he was – is – the perfect villain. You only have to see the @moriartyenterto Twitter account (not even the whole show) to see that he exudes sass. If he asked me to do anything – strip, give him a kidney, sell my soul – I’d do it. Personally, I’d… Read More Hamlet at the Almeida (moriarty!)
17 days since my last post. Big number! Big number! Two big! During that time, I’ve written a first draft of a play *drops mic*, survived on coffee and instant noodles, and only read one book. I should have been writing essays, learning Spanish, and reading books relevant to my A-Levels, but it’s okay because… Read More 17 Days (but also angry)
I grunt whenever I can’t seem to fathom a clear opinion on something. Boybands, herbal teas, the pros and cons of hair masks – ask me my thoughts on any of these, and I’ll you’ll receive is a pig-like grunt. No wonder I’m single. Alas, Heracles is another addition to this list. It’s like a… Read More HERACLES: *grunts softly*
I haven’t made proper, proper notes on a book since the hell of Of Mice and Men. In all honesty, I thought that I would have a relaxed summer holiday without picking up a pen. But no, stupid brain thinks that making three pages of notes on a play that I’M NOT EVEN STUDYING is… Read More ELECTRA: I Made Notes!
There are very few steps in mastering the art of reading Othello. Even a semi-moron such as yourself should, theoretically, be able to do it. First, you summon the motivation and energy to place your hands on the book and open it, lock yourself in a darkened room, and refuse to emerge until the damned… Read More For Crying Out Loud, Start Othello
I bawled my way through Hecabe. Tears were streaming down my face for ten minutes, until I realised that Hecabe would go all ‘strong independent woman’ on me and take wonderful revenge on Polymestor. I’m not condoning killing children and wrenching people’s eyes out, but in my opinion, Polymestor deserved it. This is the first… Read More HECABE: Get the tissues out