Saturday just gone saw myself and a load of Irish friends-of-a-friend venture into the Trafalgar Studios, London, to watch James Nesbitt and Co. perform Shoot the Crow - a story about four Irish working-class men (constructing and tiling toilets and showers) planning a heist on an unallocated palette of wall tiles. The two pairs have exactly the same plan; it's coming up to lunch and they need to create a situation to get the other pair somewhere else away from the tiles - so it'll be to the local to celebrate the final day of one worker. One in each of the pair have concerns about the heist whilst the other has a reason, but the former are soon won over when they realise that they too have future plans that could be helped with a few more 'readies'. What follows are comedic to-and-fros, life situations and the reality of working in a dead-end job, a poke at the 'what is art' question, and the obligatory double-cross-back-stabbing when one worker talks to one of the other pair.
This play is said to portray some aspect of the working-class life in Ireland many years ago, and as the characters reveal themselves you do feel for them and their situations. Problems can be solved with money but that's not everything as Nesbitt explains when he relates himself to his father for not being there and spending enough family-time - the actor even sobs on-stage although it was quite a chringing moment. The acting was superb and the script kept the comedy flowing nicely, but the only thing that got me was the incredibly thick Irish accent making the local phrases all the more difficult to decipher. Admittedly, some of it went over my head but I got most of it, and I liked the fact that the dialogue wasn't 'dumbed down' and kept with its Irish roots, so to speak, otherwise the magic would have been lost. The play completely engrossed me with everything going so smoothly, which you would expect from professionals, but it was good to see that the actors hadn't lost interest as the Saturday's evening showing was the final of three continuous weeks, twice daily.
Towards the end of the play, the two pairs confide - well, Nesbitt opens up to the other pair, much to the annoyance of his original partner-in-crime - and all four are in it together, ready to steal the tiles. Lunchtime arrives and the coast is clear - except it's not, when one worker gets a call with unwanted news. Not only do they have further work but the tiles are for another room that they missed. You can see the huge blow on their faces after having been jumping around and joking about their future plans, but Nesbitt doesn't have any of it as he's determined to carry out his promise of spending time with his son and taking him to the cinema - he doesn't care about getting sacked and his closest workmate says he's not covering for him. When the youngest worker comes in he concludes that the overtime goes three ways but it's not to be - for all that the worker shouted at Nesbitt, he'll make up a lie and cover Nesbitt's back. You can't go stealing and nothing comes easy in life, and for all that's said and done it comes down to helping one another to make things that little bit more bearable.
Fast forward past the post-show drinking and for some reason not actually having a hangover on Sunday morning, all the way to Tuesday and it's Ben Folds night. After a day trotting through some streets of London during the morning and afternoon with Nav (Tottenham Court Road, Portobello Road, an Anime exhibition in County Hall near Westminster, and a glance at some of the new exhibits at the Tate Modern), we headed to the Carling Academy, Brixton, for the support band
The Maccabees and the headline act of Ben Folds.
The Maccabees sounded good and because they were relatively young they were quite fresh and keen to perform well. The only comment against them, and it's pretty major, is that each of their songs sounded similar to each other - each song had the lead guitarists jamming fast, blasting out chords and not much else - they were overbearing and the vocalist didn't stand out enough (except for his epileptic dancing that made me laugh - I've seen it somewhere else before done by some famous rock singer). Personally, I don't see them getting too far unless they start doing something about those guitarists and getting some melody out, because I only started to enjoy each of their tunes when they stopped hammering and starting doing some riffing, even if it was only four different notes over and over.
Now Ben Folds, well, what can I say but yet another excellent, excellent gig. There wasn't going to be any new material, that I knew, and even though I had heard some of his new music in June at Southampton it was a great surprise and pleasure to hear some of his older material from the Ben Folds Five days. This time I had bought standing tickets (Southampton only had seating) so it was a case of getting to the Academy in good time and finding a good place to stand. Luckily there was a support band so most of the crowd were in the bars and that let Nav and I get a good view of the stage - when it was Folds time, the standing area was pretty much filled up but not stupidly tight and jostling. And I'll say that standing is so much better than seating, because even though you have to bear the 2-3 hours you are able to get into the music mood more easily and jig around (yes, that's what I was doing but so was everyone else).
The crowd were singing along, which I thought was great (although I don't know if artists like that sort of thing, but Ben Folds makes us sing harmonies so I suppose he can't complain). I nearly sang out my tonsils and most probably annoyed the two people in front of me who didn't seem to be singing (or jigging) along with the rest of us. The gig was absolutely fantastic, the majority of the crowd were with Folds, but more importantly everyone was cheering. Those of you who know me know I love playing the piano, and honestly it was Ben Folds that brought me back to the keys and chords and showed me how much fun it can be. I'll stop now otherwise I'll be here forever.