My review of Laurence Boswell's production of Alan Ayckbourn's Things We Do For Love is up at British Theatre Guide. You can read it here.
PS. I also composed this anti-Ayckbourn ditty after the show. To be sung to the tune of Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn", of course. Feel free to add an extra verse or two, Ayckbourn sceptics.
I hoped to laugh and cry.
And I can’t take it anymore
That’s what’s going on…
This is how I feel
Crap jokes, slapstick and farce
His writing’s just so poor
Illusion never changed
Into something real
I’m fast asleep cos I can see
This fucking play’s Ayckbourn
Fucking play’s Ayckbourn
Fucking play’s Ayckbourn
(repeat to fade)
PS. I also composed this anti-Ayckbourn ditty after the show. To be sung to the tune of Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn", of course. Feel free to add an extra verse or two, Ayckbourn sceptics.
I thought I’d see a play brought to life
Actors on stage, quite a nice set, an audience inside.I hoped to laugh and cry.
But this wasn’t a play I adored
It didn’t know, it didn’t care, what dramaturgy’s forAnd I can’t take it anymore
There’s nothing there, the whole thing’s shite
Another wasted Monday nightThat’s what’s going on…
Cos I can see this fucking play’s Ayckbourn.
I’m all out of faithThis is how I feel
Crap jokes, slapstick and farce
His writing’s just so poor
Illusion never changed
Into something real
I’m fast asleep cos I can see
This fucking play’s Ayckbourn
Fucking play’s Ayckbourn
Fucking play’s Ayckbourn
(repeat to fade)
No comments:
Post a Comment