Saturday’s Halloween 18th birthday bash was delicious. Some of our audience dressed up. The foyer was all creepy. But the best part was the show. It was hilarious, inspired, crazy, dark and really, really funny. It was a brilliant showcase of what improv can be, and how it is so satisfying for an audience. Old friends, old players, family, new friends, and first timers all came together for a fabulous evening of creativity and laughs, and everything was so fresh. Thank you TheatreSports. It’s the best fun I have, and I love being on stage like that.
Month: October 2011 (Page 1 of 2)
If you had asked me 18 years ago if I’d still be doing this I would have laughed. It didn’t seem possible that my love affair with improv would turn into my longest passionate relationship. When I decided (because of all sorts of complicated, horrible and personal stuff) to move to Cape Town and start my own improv group that would perform TheatreSports, at the end of 1993, I had no idea that it would succeed, or even last. Now look.
I love improv and I love playing. I love it. So, it will come as no surprise to you then that I am beyond delighted that it is our 18th birthday celebration and we are having a halloween show on Saturday night 29 October at The Little Theatre (just next to The Intimate where we perform every Monday). It’s at 8pm. Tickets are frighteningly cheap. R50 (R40 for those who dress up). I would so love to see you there; old friends, new friends and potential ones. Please call Ryan 0729393351 to book.
It’s quite weird sitting in a movie theatre alongside one of the stars of the movie you are watching. That’s what happened last night when a whole bunch of us went to the V&A Waterfront to watch Black Butterflies. (When last did anyone go to the movies at prime time on a Saturday night?)
Black Butterflies is a bio-pic about famous South African poet Ingrid Jonker, her crazy relationship with her father, her tempestuous relationships with men, her dependence on her sister, her poetry, her life and her death. Our fabulous Candice D’Arcy plays her sister.
The movie is slow, brooding, dark, painful and extraordinary. Set in the 60’s in a very clean but apartheid controlled Cape Town, the styling is magnificent. The old cars, the Sea Point promenade, the township, the blocks of flats and hotels. But mostly there is the sea; the wild, bright, hectic, amazing, gloomy, powerful, dangerous, vicious Atlantic that teases, torments and destroys. A lot like Ingrid.
This locally written (and mostly local talent) movie transcends what we have come to expect from a South African film. While it is set during apartheid, and the effects of it are continually felt, it never preaches or becomes message driven. It is a masterfully shot, beautiful art movie, making me want to go and fish out those Ingrid Jonker poems again. And Candice D’Arcy is fabulous.
I hate litter. Could be I am just a middle aged white liberal, but I find litter offensive and it makes me m in the k (mal in the kop, as my boet says). Litter is one of the daily grinds of living in Woodstock. The wind howls. There is a little shop on every corner. Kids play and live in the streets and that’s where they throw the packets and wrappers and stompies and plastic bottles. The garbage collectors seem to be more careless in our area, leaving stuff that doesn’t make it onto the truck or spills out of the bins when they move. Open land is used to dump on.
Last week I got a bee in my bonnet about the litter and rubbish in our short little street, and on a whim I sent a note out to the 20 odd houses in the road telling them I would be cleaning the street today, would be providing black bags and gloves, and would love it if people joined me.
10 year old Seth was the first to start with me at 9am and we were soon joined by Marion and Abie, and Seth’s dad and Big Friendly. In two hours we picked up all the trash, pulled out the weeds, cleaned up in front of the abandoned plot, scraped, swept, bagged and piled. I had organised with Solid Waste to swing by and collect the bags, and yep, they did.
And we are all so proud. How cool?
“Let me tell you,” I said, as I stretched my arm out to grab hold of the triple strength coffee that was going to help me write this at six in the am. “Ja, ja, ja, it makes sense. Four of Herman Charles Bosman‘s stories visited, and revisited by a pink couch, two cheeky, chatty, physical, sexy young men, and a director with a brain the size of the koppie the leopard ran to. Can’t go wrong. Ja.”
Mafikeng Road is Matt Lewis and Andrew Laubscher, directed by Tara Louise Notcutt now on at The Intimate. And it’s four Herman Charles Bosman Groot Marico stories like they’ve never been done before. I have wanted to see this show since early days and I have missed it every other time it was on, including in Grahamstown where it won an ovation award and was sold out by the time I got there. So I wasn’t going to miss it this time. I was there like a bear.
And what a flippen amazing, fast, hilarious, delicious, clean, precise, energetic, charming trip it is. Matt and Andrew are genius and they jump, squirm, crouch, limp, run, freeze, switch from accent to accent, body to body, human to animal, comic contort, flash back, subtitle, soundtrack, sound effect and sometimes, just tell, the stories.
Tara has them on a short leash. Not a moment is indulgent. Not a gesture is too big. Â Not a joke milked for more laugh. These are two committed and charming performers who are making the magic without any actor bullshit. “And I could of sat there for hours, listening to them go on and on. Ja, ja, ja. Makes sense. Loved that damn scared horse Bertie. Loved that poor love struck policeman, loved the drunken getting drunker altar wine fetcher. Loved the moms and kids at kerk. Loved every finger chase along arms. Think I must of loved the whole thing man.” I reach over but the koffie is klaar.
You’re gonna love Monique’s brilliant Christmas gift idea.