Sunday 20 September 2015

REVIEW - Rebecca, Hall For Cornwall - Saturday 19th September.

This sea-soaked classic from Cornish author Daphne du Maurier had the ultimate captive audience in Truro on the final night of the run in Cornwall. As the book is one of my all-time favourites, I just had to see the stage version.

The production by Kneehigh theatre company opened to crashing waves, a lantern-lit stage and the endlessly quotable first line: “Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.” The story follows an unnamed young woman as a newlywed wife to Maxim de Winter, owner of the mysterious Manderley, as she realises she is living in the shadow of his recently deceased wife Rebecca.

Image from Kneehigh

She feels gauche and awkward in her new life at Manderley, having been extracted from the company of a 'dreadful American woman' for whom she worked as a companion in glamorous Monte Carlo. For anyone familiar with the book, you'll know this woman was Mrs Van Hopper, who makes no appearance in the play which is a pity as she provides excellent comic relief in the story which is at times so tense you struggle to catch your breath.

Fog rolled across the stage to create a romantic and gothic atmosphere for the small but effective cast to spin the story. The chorus of fishermen clad in sou’westers and oil coats provided a haunting presence, and between scene changes a small band played violins and a double bass. Large branches of seaweed and driftwood punctuated the set when we visited the cottage on the beach, and dove puppets surrounded the narrator in a beautiful representation of the Happy Valley.

The cast had an obvious love for the play and the set itself was remarkable: a bridge was built into and out of the staircase depending on where the action was taking place, window frames were held in place to suggest the view and capital ‘R’s were tucked away in the wrought iron on the stairs and on vases. Manderley is based on Menabilly, du Maurier's real home on the Cornish coast. The main theme snaking through the play is jealousy, and it resonates in the clipped tone of phantom-like housekeeper Mrs Danvers, who had a wonderfully insidious presence. Clever set design placed the eponymous Rebecca’s boat both beneath the characters, then hanging above them as her ghost during the second half.

From the wobbly beginnings of the bride to her final flourish, the Hall For Cornwall was transformed into Manderley for one last time. Sea shanties rollicked and the cast spun a web of jealousy, betrayal and the wild sea; which is as much a character as Rebecca herself. 

Find the tour dates here.

Sunday 13 September 2015

Holidays, summer and radio silence

Suffice to say - I have been busy!
Work was extremely busy - living and working in a tourist area means you make the holiday for other people; you help them on their way to relaxation and fun.

The time came around for my own holiday, and for two short weeks I was busy luxuriating in central France, reading the uproariously funny How To Build A Girl by Caitlin Moran and feasting on bread and local wine.

We did all the normal things on holiday. We packed too much, yet somehow too little, we wore the same shoes in the woods, on the beach and in the lake. The 'beaches' actually belong to lakes, being as the central area we visited is very much the Midlands of France, in that is it totally land-locked on all sides. The plages we visit most frequently are in Indre or Creuse departments, and are woodsy, muddy and utterly charming. Speed boats fling screaming teenagers around on inflatables out on the open water, the occasional tourists brave the waves in kayaks and pale, hesitant girls (me) take an age to get into the very cool lake water. We visited chateaux, walked miles in cool shade and blistering heat all in the name of fitness, saw a dust devil on the hottest day and visited some wolves on the coolest.

We did some less common things on holiday, too. Like deciding to change our lives for the better. We agreed to read more, love more, talk more, and feel better. We also accidentally killed a hornet, which we felt pretty bad about. I always get chased by nature, and some notable and fairly comedic special guests this year included bats, wasps, massive flying beetles, beautiful dragonflies, a goat that sounded like a person, and many others.

Changing your life doesn't happen overnight, or even on one beautiful afternoon at Anzeme, watching a clear blue sky unfold above you as you accidentally crash into a French man while doing backstroke. Changing your life happens in a sequence of tiny steps, sometimes each one smaller than the last, but always moving forward.