charlie’s aunt

I’m too much of a critic these days I think. Last night my parents and I went to see ‘Charlie’s Aunt’ at the regent theatre, handley. It’s a Victorian farce by Brandon Thomas, and I must admit it was pretty well performed, but I think I disliked it because it lacked the panache of Wilde. It was, to my mind, devoid of subtlety and wit, and full of coincidences (mind you so is Wilde’s earnest). I just couldn’t get into it until the second act.

The problem is, I wobble; the more I know I have to stay still, the more I wobble. Thus every time I go to the theatre, where I know I have to stay still, the more I worry about my body and so the more I wobble. This is, needless to say, highly irritating, and probably gave rise to my critical eye.

It also doesn’t help that I have been used to highly intellectual stuff at uni – plays and prose which demand thought. Ten minutes into watching this play, I had decided it was clich ridden and vapid, lacking of much artistry, and slightly pantomimic. I could spot the plot coming a mile off. However, mum and dad seemed to really enjoy it: to be honest, it did have it’s funny points – such as someone pouring tea into a top hat – but, somehow I just felt negative. The dialogue, for instance, seemed too much of a parody, or an attempt at one by someone who doesn’t really know what he’s doing.

I feel really guilty about writing all this. it has been absolutely ages since I went to the theatre with my parents, and had been really looking forward to it. But it somehow missed the mark for me. Sorry guys.

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