Theatre Footle: Absurd: Princess Ivona at the Workhouse Theatre, London

Sturdy Beggars Theatre Company is a non-profit group that produces seasons of plays grouped around a theme, in this case a study of the outsider in society.

Princess Ivona, an Absurdist play, is the story of a bored prince who chooses to spice up his languid existence by proposing marriage to the ugliest, most uncommunicative girl in the kingdom.

The overwhelming impression I was left with after this production was that one of its greatest strengths eventually became its greatest weakness. Packed into a tiny hall with minimalist set design and a simple, powerful lighting scheme, the intimate setting meant a first act that slowly reeled in and fascinated the audience. The school play costumes and simple make up conceit - everyone in cadaverous white and grey except Prince Philip who has some ability to see through the surface, albeit cruelly - worked well at first. However, in the second act it became clear that they would have been better off standing there in nothing but black; the hokey costume cupboard appearance became distracting when heightened by the quite deliberate daftness of the plot and a few ill-conceived musical cues.

It's a shame that an initially promising production dwindles into feeling so amateurish towards the end. It is particularly irritating because there is a wealth of real talent among the company. Standouts were Toby Spearpoint as the prince, Coren Fitzgerald as a consistently moving, weird and wonderful Ivona, and, at moments, Victoria Strachan as Queen Margaret. Although Strachan let a touch of Patricia Routledge creep into her performance, she was also channelling more than a touch of Fiona Shaw, and that was welcome and impressive. Alexander Andreou was, to my mind, miscast as the bluff King Ignatius, much better at the aggressive rants than the sly interchanges with Benjamin Reeves's excellent Lord Chamberlain, but still watchable. Only some very minor parts were weak, with Ivona's maiden aunts appearing far too young and vibrant to be in any way convincing, and her erstwhile lover a tad clunky, although in fairness it is extremely hard to breathe life into a part that exists just to deliver a monologue lampooning modern society.

Such semi-didactic plays can be hard to warm to generally, but there were clever moments and a few that sparked genuine, honest laughter from the audience.

An earth-shattering evening of modern theatre? No. But I would encourage anyone in the area to go along and support the company through donations in spite of that, because some of the talent in this company really deserves a wider audience. With a little funding, there's a lot of potential to be mined here.


This review first appeared on Remote Goat. Absurd: Princess Ivona is running from 19th-22nd December 2007.

Film Footle: The Golden Compass

There was always going to be some pressure for Chris Weitz to deliver a film that did justice to Northern Lights / The Golden Compass. As first in a fantasy trilogy, His Dark Materials, which falls into the category nauseatingly labelled "kidult", there are several areas to be mindful of: strong, beloved characters, complex interweaving plotlines and spectacularly imaginative settings. Two of these went well for Weitz; sadly it was the dilution of the convoluted plotlines that failed to work, with watery, soft-boiled results.

The story is that of Lyra Belacqua, orphan niece to powerful Lord Asriel, who enjoys a semi-feral existence in the esteemed Jordan College, Oxford. This Oxford is one parallel and close to, but not the same as, ours, and the action in the coming films will tell of movement between the worlds. In this world people's souls are on the outside of their bodies, in an animal form, and together with her precious daemon Pan, Lyra is catapulted into a complex adventure involving Dust, the authoritative Magisterium and the strange, horrifying goings on of the Gobblers, who steal children that are never seen again...

As a complex trilogy, it's important to look at the story with a judicial editorial eye and excise quite a hefty lump of unnecessary meandering. The Amber Spyglass in particular is a bloated piece compared to the other two so it was as well to start as they meant to go on. And indeed some characters were amalgamated, some plotlines trimmed and some of Philip Pullman's already wobbly theology simplified even further. Having seen the National Theatre expertly reduce the books to an excellent, moving retelling, I had high expectations. This version, sadly, fell short.

There have been complaints that the Magisterium is reduced to a shadowy, non-religious organisation. To that I say nonsense, as even The Fall of Adam and Eve was described clearly and words such as "blasphemy" really only apply to religious organisations. The only problem is that by turning the priests into token baddies Weitz runs the risk of having panto villains, which only serves to highlight Pullman's convoluted muddling of the Church and the people within it even further. I've always loved His Dark Materials for its imaginative storytelling, irritated only by some of the more nonsensical explanations for an abandonment of faith (*cough* Mary Malone *cough*). By reducing Pullman's very real struggle with the corruption that has undoubtedly existed in organised religion down to "we tell you what to do" versus "doing whatever you like" (as if that were possible!), much of what is bewitching and beguiling about life in Lyra's world is lost. Only the presence of wonderful actors such as Simon McBurney (Fra Pavel), Derek Jacobi and Christopher Lee saves the battle from complete irrelevance.

And speaking of actors, Dakota Blue Richards is excellent. She invests Lyra with a great deal of the inquisitive, angry, emotional charm that makes her both irritating and wonderful. Nicole Kidman is a wonderful Mrs. Coulter, full of icy, hypnotising style and intelligence and Daniel Craig's brief appearances as Lord Asriel were simply great. The supporting cast includes some excellent child talent - Freddie Highmore as the voice of Pantalaimon - and a hidden superstar or two amongst the adults' daemons; Kathy Bates as Hester was particularly brilliant, and Kristin Scott Thomas presumably has a lot further to go with Stelmaria. Ian McKellen rounds off the who's who with a typical gravitas as he takes on the voice of armoured bear Iorek Byrnison. And despite - or perhaps because of - a peculiar, unplaceable accent, Eva Green's Serafina Pekkala shows promise.

Visually the film is also stunning. The bears are wonderful, the sets beguiling, the daemons gorgeous, the CGI melded beautifully with the live action sequences.

But what holds the captivating visuals and good performances together?

Not much, unfortunately. As well as the so-so villains, there's also a distinct lack of heart. One scene in particular should have been frightening and moving; when Lyra finds the result of the curious Bolvangar experiments it should be made even more intense by the fact that the character involved has been altered to be one we know and love better. But by then it felt so much like a series of set pieces stitched inexpertly together that it left me cold and dispassionate. The pace is rollicking - I can't complain of it dragging - but there is virtually no connection with the audience.

The action chooses to end at a point short of the end of the book, interestingly, perhaps so as to allow for a lower certificate and a happy ending for a children's Christmas film. But it seems to me much more time was spent creating a happy spectacle which would charm families at Christmas time than telling the story. Somewhat unforgiveable for a film with a guaranteed audience of fans of the book, most of whom are adults anyway.

As a brief, visually impressive summary of the set pieces of the books, it's fine. As an emotional and gripping story in its own right, separate from the text and uniquely enjoyable, it fails on almost every front. It's a disappointing halfway-house, and I can only hope that with the introduction of my favourite character, Will, in The Subtle Knife, things will improve.

Food Footle: Asia de Cuba, St. Martin's Lane Hotel

I'm far from being a food critic, so it's unusual that I would want to review a restaurant. But this was such an amazingly good evening that I feel duty bound to do so!

For Weasel Day celebrations (our first anniversary), my boyfriend decided to surprise me with the dinner venue, and in fact I'd never really noticed Asia de Cuba despite attending press events in the weirdly wonderful hotel before.

It sounds worrying at first - a mixture of Cuban and Asian cooking techniques is instinctively worrying to anyone even slightly conventional about their food. Asian, by the way, is the US definition; the restaurant gathers its influences mainly from China and especially Japan.

The menu is designed to be shared. We were seated in seconds and our friendly, well-informed waitress explained that it was best to get two starters, one main course and one dessert for two. This was exactly the right amount to be stuffed to the gills but pleasantly so.

We opted for seared scallops and two types of beef dumpling to begin with. A wonderful choice. Four fat, savoury-sweet scallops were elegantly arranged on a creamy but not overly rich sauce dotted with fruit. Mouthwateringly gorgeous. The six plump dumplings - three steamed in a bowl of sauce and three fried on a skewer - were rich, chewy mouthfuls of beautifully cooked soft beef and not a hint of oiliness or watery filling.

Our main course was an old favourite of mine: Miso cod. It was served on a pebbled bed of black bean and edamame salad and we ordered coconut rice to go with. This was served in generous blocks, perfectly balanced with the coconut, wrapped tightly in banana leaves. The cod was amazing, and a generous portion of three chunks, not burned round the edges as some places I've tried it have managed. The only possible criticism I could levy is that something a bit more exciting could be done with the black beans which are a bit bland and chalky, but it's a small point indeed.

Dessert was a vast basket of sugared doughnuts, dusted with cinnamon and with a small squirt of creamy butterscotch sauce in the centre. Further sauce is provided for dipping.

The setting was also rather nice. A weird but wonderful mix of modern design and bookshelves packed with old books (each of which is re-purposed to bring you your bill at the end of the meal), each table is dimly but romantically lit by a hanging bulb for a little oasis of calm in the bustle and noise, of which there's plenty.

Now, this is not a cheap restaurant. Already soused from pre-dinner drinks, we just went for a couple of bottles of still water and no after-dinner coffees, and the total, including their usual 15% service charge, was around £125. But here's how it earns this.

The service is amazing. We had at least four, if not five, waiting staff coming to the table. Not one made a single error, all were friendly, warm and well-informed and the speed of service was amazing. We had barely ordered and we received hot, perfectly cooked food. And yet at the end we were not even slightly hassled to pay up and get out, despite the fact that it was a busy night. You're served promptly and unobtrusively; how long you linger over your meal is up to you.

I can't praise this restaurant enough for the wonderful, memorable anniversary meal it provided. My other half emailed them the next morning to pass on his compliments and got not one, but two, replies thanking him profusely. We're so used to indifferent service now that we've forgotten what really excellent attention to detail is like.

Now, if only I could afford to go more often...