Headlines
On the London Eye
The 39 Steps
16th March 2009
We left on the coach at 9 o’clock, after a day of potential snow and subsequent panic. After a long journey we arrived in the sprawling network of London, where cyclists are the ultimate adrenaline junkies and teachers' eyes dart frantically around their students, just waiting for them to get lost or walk headlong into traffic. The trip was to consist of three stages: The London Eye, shopping in Covent Garden and tickets to The 39 Steps, which to some were merely that: paper tickets. For various unnamed persons, shopping was perhaps a little higher up their agenda.
The ‘flight’ on the London Eye, another enticement to see London, came first on the itinerary. The cars crept round to the limits of the skyline, and then back again; all the while, we used the ample photo opportunities to record the fun. There was the buzz of excitement particular to the capital, which carries with it Silver Wizard mimes, street performers, angry businessmen and women hurrying about, shops and shoppers, tourists and above all, the theatre. It is adored from every street corner, where much-loved musicals light up whole buildings with their advertisements, and theatres scatter the city’s centre.
Our theatre was in the heart of Picadilly; it looked much the same as the others. The musty rich red and gold furnishings adorned seats which extended far up all sides of the hall. There was also a close intimacy between stage and audience, which made them feel almost interchangeable. To the dismay or amusement of some perfectly postured members of our audience who clutched at their Telegraphs, we certainly made our presences felt. The actors relished the squeals of delight and unstoppable outbursts, pausing briefly from their deeply engrained lines to give a wink or cheeky smile.
The production of The 39 Steps laughed in the face of almost any cliché remotely associated with classic detective literature. The pure silliness of two grown men, pretending to be ladies, acting four parts at once with props such as chairs to create a train and utterly absurd accents was enough to dissolve the audience into hilarity. Even the twist at the end – a fifth character to reverse the entire plot, whose arm sprung from behind the heavy curtain – was self-deprecating and impossible in a way which told the audience that any left over self-importance was now gone. However, it was really our hero’s rather attractive pencil moustache which captivated half the audience.
Over far too quickly, the play ended as our cheeks ached and glistened with laughter. We applauded generously, as a strange smelling imitation snow frothed all hair in the first six rows into something which smelt far too much like those terrifying puppets found in interactive Black Country museums (not a good thing). And so we returned to the coach, and said goodbye to London and its unburstable bubble of excitement until the next time.
To see the photo album click the following link:
http://www.review.hereford.ac.uk/albums/2009/03/16/london_visit:_the_39_steps