Tag: Dance

Putting on the Glitz!

It was an immense privilege to be invited to see ‘Glitz’, the 2026 graduation gig from D16 Performing Arts College at the Gorleston Pavilion Theatre. The show was simply breathtaking. The uber-gifted cast – many of whom are destined for greater things – put on the glitz with infectious joy and energy. As the amazing Irene Cara sang in Fame, the dark and broody 1980 Alan Parker teen musical…

Fame! I’m gonna live forever, I’m gonna learn how to fly. High!

And fly high they did. Click the Faceache link below to get a tantalising glimpse…

Glitz Graduation Show

Image Courtesy of D16

As an ensemble piece, it would be unfair to single any one stellar performance, except for a special mention for our very own young apprentice starlet, Alice Peck (top left in the picture). Way to go, Alice! The standing ovation at the end of the show was instant and richly deserved. Britain really does have loads of talent.

Middle England or Middle America?

Middle England or Middle America?

Middle England or middle America? Imelda Staunton or Frances McDormand? Who could choose? Not us, so we did both.

First up, Imelda was finding her feet in Finding Your Feet, ably supported by a sterling cast of foot-tapping veterans. The trailer doesn’t really do justice to this winter warmer of knobs and snobs, free love and last chances. Charming, witty, a little bit sad and very, very British, I’m so glad I didn’t let the underpowered promo put me off.

And what can anyone say about Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri?  I’ll leave it to Ann Hornaday at the Washington Post who wrote…

The film is as dark as they come, a pitch-black, often laceratingly funny look at human nature at its most nasty, brutish and dim-witted.

Amen to that. Frances McDormand bristles with benign menace and the film is pitilessly brilliant, blurring the lines between right and wrong. Oh, and there’s an awful lot of swearing in it too. Here’s the trailer. Best change channels now if you’re offended by the C word.

Last Tango in London

Last Tango in London

At the arse end of another weekend in the Smoke, we found ourselves with time on our hands at Liverpool Street Station. Liam’s bright idea to kill time was a detour to Old Spitalfields Market for a browse and a bite. I say ‘old’ but Spitalfields has been relentlessly gentrified since its heyday as an East End fruit and faggots emporium. Apples and pears have given way to arts and crafts, jellied eels to corporate fare. The place was heaving and the tourists lapped up the fake authenticity. There was a surprise round every corner and this was the biggest surprise of all. It was mesmerising.

Where the Hell is Matt?

We live in cynical times but sometimes something just cuts through the political crap and warms the cockles of the heart. This is such a thing. No more shallow sentimental nonsense from me, just watch the video.

Thank you to Bluebird Blvd for finding it and Matt for making it.