Directing: that'll be a doddle, right?

So I'm sitting here on my first free Tuesday for 7 months in the warm post-directorial glow of a fantastic show week plus an absolutely incredible review from NODA (which I will show off later) and I wanted to write a bit of a reflective blog about my first experience as a director, hopefully you will find it entertaining.

1. The beginning Stages

The first few weeks of rehearsals were odd. The music needs to at a decent enough level that people can put their books down for long enough to look where they're going when setting. I spent most of the rehearsals sitting at the back, listening and scribbling notes in my big pink book; most of which I never even mentioned. I also kept my lib and my pink book with at most times, making rough notes in the back and "best notes" in the front. These stages were interspersed with committee meetings and spending a lot of time in denial about my forthcoming responsibility for running rehearsals.

2. The Audition Stages

Auditions were without a doubt the worst part of the whole process. Not only was sitting on the panel terrifying, but I had no idea what I was looking for and mostly spent the whole time thinking how wonderful everyone was without being objective or making many useful notes. The decision making was just as hard; working out which of your opinions were actually more important than the opinions of the other people on the panel; and making some difficult and unheard of decisions such as re auditioning. Sending the email with the final cast list was nerve wracking to say the least and I was so relieved when it was all over and an angry mob didn't turn up to my door with pitch that even if the show was terrible I could console myself that I wouldn't have to audition anyone again.

3. The Directing Stages

From the very first rehearsal where we started setting I started to think about how directors have done this in shows I've been in in the past. That number of shows is around 17 and with 5 different societies and 12 different directors over the last 10 years. Can I remember how any of them lead a rehearsal; and translated their notes and stick person drawings to real life? Can I fuck. Even to this day I cannot recall a single rehearsal that I've been to in all that time, nor did I have any idea what I am about to do with the 30-odd people standing in front of me; faces full of expectations and hope. The first few rehearsals were messy but I told myself if we stuck to the schedule everything would be just fine.

4. The Setting stages

This has taken most of the time. We took roughly one or two songs, or a about 15 minutes of stage time, a rehearsal. Everything at first went particularly well, especially with the men who were full of enthusiasm when you could stop them laughing at the words "sword" and "bottom". Which actually never happened, but its nice to dream. A lot of rehearsals felt like a lot of me half explaining what I wanted, half miming what I wanted in an impossible-to-recreate way; but somehow they managed to get my meaning. Quite often I shared my doodles of what I expected it to look like. In my head this meant that in a rehearsal or two later I would be able to say "Remember that picture of an upside down trapezium I told you about?" and everyone would remember exactly what I meant. However, in reality would be met by rows of blank faces (more on that later). I used a range of methods, repetition; diagrams; rearranging; sectioning; giving up and trying again next week... and most of the time I felt we achieved a lot in a rehearsal which is nice. I was glad to have a designated "point of no return notes" section in my pink booklet so I could write things as they were and I was determined that they would stay that way. Most of the men can account for that when I got to the fourth rerunning of one section of finale act 1 and resorting to begging them to remember the moves. They did. I won.

5. The Principal Stages.

Now my principals were fantastic. There was not a weak member of the group and for the most part Friday rehearsals required very little effort from me and attendance was good. Having said that the principals definitely taught me more about directing than anything else. For most of the solo numbers,which are tough at best in G&S; I gave the cast very rough instructions but mostly left it up to them, with a few exceptions. Now, there is a song in act 2 which is very hard going, but leaving it to the principal involved actually resulted in one of the funniest and most entertaining numbers in the show, and I'm gutted I can't take credit for it. Thinking about it I think there is more of a balance to be struck with directing the principals and trusting them to use their instincts. In fairness if I had set a routine to that number it would have involved much harder work in rehearsals, frustration from both sides if they couldn't get the hang of it, plus remembering something someone else has told you to do is much harder than keeping together your own routine. This was particularly evident in some of the other numbers where more than one principal was involved and it was a lot harder to set even a few movements in certain other numbers as when on stage there will be something that feels natural to you as an individual that no director could predict; or even control in some places.

6. The Blank Face Stages

This was one of the hardest parts of rehearsals. I'm aware I ramble and I'm aware that I do sometimes start a train of thought halfway through and quite often have to restart sentences that try to come out before they are even slightly ready. However I tried my best to be clear and reasonable, but I spent half my time looking at confused, blank and sometimes downright disgusted faces. This happened at full cast and principal rehearsals and it was without a doubt the most difficult thing to deal with, not only did I constantly have to question my own explanation, but I also found it very hard not to take it offensively... After a while I did come to realised that people develop this face when they are processing information. It's the human equivalent of the little spinning icon or the hour glass on a computer when something is waiting to load.

7. The "I've Got a Great Suggestion" Stages

Oh dear Lord. This was not a fun part of the role. Generally speaking I think I was quite good at sticking to my original ideas, after all if it wasn't in the permanent section it wasn't getting put in. There were suggestions throughout the show. Some of which were decent and I did take them on board because they made sense - for example allowing the women time to turn so they could see the MD. However some were just nonsensical "This will be easier for me" "This makes more sense"; nope, no it doesn't and I'm actually a fan of what it already looks like so let's just stick to what I told you to do, YES?!? My general line was "Ok thank you, I'll have a look at that and see if I can make it work". The suggestion then promptly left my thoughts and never dawned on me again. This might sound very pompous and very precious, but it is also why I (rightly) ignored the committee's suggestion that I elect an Assistant Director. I didn't want someone to disagree with me constantly, nor someone to run my ideas past before I even got to the chorus themselves. It would only make me doubt myself and I was confident enough with my doodles that everything was realistic enough to happen and look good.
Some of this meant I also ended up with not enough time to add things in that I would have loved to... But I'll save them for next time.

8. The Difficult Decision Stages

It wouldn't be right to talk about this whole process without mentioning the difficult decisions that had to be made. But actually calling them difficult isn't right because at the end of the day if a decision is the right one to make then it shouldn't be difficult and it wasn't. Although very stressful, having to make difficult decisions made me a better director without a doubt. It was at that point I stopped taking on board everyone's input and stuck to my guns. My guns which had no lead me wrong yet. If I had to umm and aahh over decisions I knew it wouldn't be the right one; but the simple fact is I didn't have to and I was pleased with myself for being objective and putting the good of my production and the society before any personal turmoil that it could have involved. And as a result I didn't suffer much, or any, personal turmoil and business was resumed with barely a bump on my family escutcheon. It was also a humbling experience that showed to me what it means to be a member of a society such as this and that there are people who are willing to do their duty for the good of the society without a moment's hesitation. I really hope this experience makes me a better cast member in the future.

9. The Justification Stages

Some of the hardest times came from my encounters with the committee as a whole. I had a very clear idea of what I wanted and I knew that money was tight and I was keen to do my part in keeping costs down. Considering all the shows I have been in and seen I am aware that the things you notice are: The people on stage. What the people on stage are wearing. What they sound like. What the music sound likes. What they have in their hands. Nothing else. Owing to the versatility of the venue I wanted to encourage the committee to be creative and to help themselves save money. As a result we had some highly praised costumes which we begged, borrowed and stole (well, hired for as little money as possible) and absolutely fantastic, functional and unique set which I couldn't have been happier with. The committee meetings on the whole were an absolute battlefield however it all paid off. We saved money so we could afford a small band; and publicity efforts paid off with great ticket sales.

10. The Letting Go Stages

Hugely frustrating but what can you do when the majority of your cast is around retirement age? People don't remember things like they should and even thought each rehearsal sometimes felt like we were starting afresh I like to think I kept my cool as much as I could. I made them diagrams I wrote down every order they should stand in so they should know. I gave them key words for key actions... The women threaded on the word "threading" and the men stepped forward on the word "Forward!" (Clever eh?) But at the end of the day there's only so much you can do. By the end of the resetting stages I learn to do something I have never been able to do before: I let go. I let go of the tiny things that went wrong and the bits that were partly out of time. I wrote two pages of notes at the dress run and I basically ignored them all. It just felt like the right thing to do at that stage; and I think it paid off. No one was concentrating on something picky so they forgot something big and there were barely any moments whilst watching it where I had to cringe because it was all going tits up. So bravo.



There is a huge amount I can take from this experience and I definitely want to do it again. Seeing the pride on people's faces in the audience and the utter enjoyment on the faces of the cast during the show was absolutely magical and I still can't believe that my nonsensical scribbles turned into such a fantastic performance.

But don't take my word from it. From the words of NODA I have a "good understanding of the idiosyncrasies of the genre" created some "outstanding vignettes from members of the chorus" and included "some great ‘updated’ references in the show and the cast looked as though they were having a cracking time performing. This, more than anything else, reflects the strength of the company and the direction." Which, frankly, is the best thing anyone could have said to me.

I hope I have been a good producer the work with and I hope that I have as much passion for future projects (ie ones where I feel like I have less to prove!). I also want to reach out my utter thanks to everyone involved. Obviously Pirates is majorly music so my MD was an absolute class act and it wouldn't have been even half as good without her pushing the chorus and principals to the absolute limit.

Onwards and upwards!

Female Empowerment

After watching an interesting new reality-cum-documentary at work about female wrestlers, our Acquisitions manager said the producer called it "Empowering for women". I immediately took offense to this. Being told what empowers a woman, particularly by a man is extremely patronising. It would be equivilant of me saying that football is empowering to men, when I know several men who don't even like sports.

I'm very interested in the concept of feminism. I wouldn't particularly class myself as feminist, but things such as the fact that the majority of the top guys of the big company who have just bought my company are male do stand out to me. I also realised at that moment that I'm glad these men are there to do the heavy lifting and take responsibility. In comparison I'd be more than happy to stay in my role forever.

It did however make me thing about what empowers me. I have absolutely no desire to be a wrestler, to be told I need to lose 20 pounds or to talk shit about Mexican women. (This involves context you will probably never have unless the show gets commissioned in the UK and you actually chose to watch it.)

So here we go:

Things that empower me:

- Using my degree in every day life. Whether its reciting a literary theory or sending an email in Spanish it tells me that twenty eight grand was worth every penny.
- Driving. Its awesome. Anyone who doesn't should immediately learn.
- Drinking wine whilst cooking. I feel like I belong on Wisteria Lane with the other Desperate Housewives, knowing something exciting would happen.
- Knowing I will never be just a housewife. I'm 23 and the world is at my oyster.
- Locking the doors behind me at 8pm when I get in from working, knowing I'm safe and I have the evening to myself.
- Feeling in charge of my own life
- Directing. I'm still very new but having an idea that I've managed to transfer on paper, then to actual real life human beings is an incredible feeling.
- Knowing wholeheartedly that my other half loves me completely unconditionally.
- Having the most awesome friends in the world. I have at least 4 people I can trust completely to help me in any situation.
- Walking in the dark, being home alone and driving at night. In my head horror film scenarios play over and over again but to be honest I feel invincible.
- Using the bathroom with the door open when I'm home alone.
- Telling someone that I believe in God because its not a big deal and it fits perfectly into the flow of conversation.

Things that do not empower me:

- I still have to sleep with the door closed and my laptop playing episodes of Friends. I probably could sleep without it but sometimes I'm scared not to.
- Not being where I want to be at the speed at want to be there in life. Its unsettling and capable or not its out of my control.
- When I feel like I've done something wrong even though I'm not sure what so feeling dread all day.
- Knowing wholeheartedly that I love my other half unconditionally. Don't ask me why but its terrifying.
- Feeling utterly at mercy to my emotions.
- Directing. It has its good points but I feel completely overwhelmed.
- Being 23. I wish I could fast forward 7 years and be married and pregnant or something so I at least know what's coming.

Takk Fyrir Mig - Iceland and the Northern Lights

Recently, two very good girl friend's and I booked a holiday to Iceland with the aim to see the Northern Lights, something on all our "Before I'm 30..." bucket lists. Poor but still with the carpe diem sort of attitude I was so excited for the opportunity, even if it did make a huge dent in my tiny bank balance.

This trip deserves a full and lengthy blog because it is, without question, the best holiday and the most beautiful country I have ever visited.

Sunday 10th February 2013

Our trip began on a rainy Sunday evening. After an amusing confusion at the car park ticket barrier, we eventually made it Gatwick North Terminal and settled down with a pint. The flight was a late one, and despite the airport being nearly empty we still ending up running the length of the terminal to the plain. But once on the plain the panic was forgotten as we had acres of leg room, pillows, complimentary drinks and a full selection of films and television programmes.

Arriving in Iceland at midnight was not only chilly and tiring, but slightly manic. Firstly I had to battle a woman who had the same suitcase as mine. Same except for the fact hers had a bronze lock... and a massive rip in it, as I had breathed a sigh of relief when I realised it was not my case on the carousel just moments before.

Then our transfer was late, and my LORD do people not handle these situations well? There was pushing, shoving and probably biting somewhere along the line. People who had pushed their way on then refused to sit down because they had abandoned half their families outside of the bus, making it impossible for the driver to know how many seats were still free. Very frustrating, but climbing into a warm bed with a view of a corridor and what can only be described as half a pillow, was just luxurious by 3am.

Monday 11th February 2013

After very little sleep, but a nice shower and a large bready-eggy-cheesey-hammy breakfast, we set off for the day. It was of great surprise that our hotel actually looked out onto mountains - our corridor-view rooms had not done them justice. And my God are they beautiful mountains. As you wander along the harbour more mountains appearing, varying in shape and snow cover, but combined with the sun rise and the blue, still harbour water, it was calming and overwhelmingly gorgeous.

We wandered into town of Reykjavik and found that Icelandic houses are just... cute. Coloured wood-effect houses with white window frames and sloping roofs. Each one unique and adorable. However I think what stood out to us the most was how quiet Reykjavik is. Two thirds of Iceland's 320,000 population live there, but even that is only 20,000 more than the population of Southend-on-Sea, and has nothing on the 8 million people who live in the capital of England. I think Iceland's serenity just added to how beautiful it was.

We stopped at a Cafe which overlooked the Cathedral, an impressive building that you can see from almost anywhere in town. We had a pancake and a cup of hot chocolate and saw our first taste of  how lovely the people of Iceland are. Plus had free WiFi so we could plan our next movements.

Next was a hearty walk through some residential areas where people nail shoes to trees and grow plants out of them, to the Perlan viewing point. Also known fondly as "The Great Boob of Reykjavik" The Pearl can also be seen from anywhere in the city, and from its freezing balcony you can see the whole city, plus the beautiful landscape surrounding it. It was seriously breathtaking. One thing I love about many European cities is the fact they have these high points you can visit so you can see the entire city from one place - something I think parts of England sorely lack.

Downstairs we indulged in a little Icelandic history in the Saga museum. It was really fascinating and obviously an opportunity to pose with the waxworks made there.

Next stop was, of course, Iceland's Phallalogical Museum. Which is what you think it is. What was weirder than the thousands of animal penises in jars, however, was the slightly overweight man who ran this strange shop-size exhibit at the end of the high street, and how he casually brought out a large, wooden (wait for it) penis shaped box to put our money in and handed us "Catalogues" that explain what all the penises are. I'm not sure if he collected them all himself, but I wouldn't be surprised. It was an interesting exhibit, did you know pigs have curly penises? And did you know that Sperm Whale penises are terrifyingly large? Well now you do, thanks to the fact we've maintained very strong levels in immaturity in our 20s.

The first meal of Iceland was a burger restaurant (locally sourced meat I hasten to add). Something I'd spotted earlier in the day, and oh my it was a good shout. A gigantic burger, fantastic service and only cost us £15! Whoever said Iceland was expensive lied horribly. Nom. Nom. Nom.

After a much deserved nap, we headed our on our Northern Lights excursion. The forecast was "Minimum" so we weren't particularly hopeful, even when the driver said the conditions were perfect to see them. Wrapped up warm, heading out to the National Park where there was less light pollution, we suddenly spotted a glow in the sky. The guide made the driver pull over and we saw a beautiful display at just 10.15pm - two hours earlier than the apparent optimum time. They were indescribably beautiful. On a backdrop of thousands of stars you could only dream of seeing in the UK, these green lights danced across the horizon line and off into the darkness. At that moment we also saw a shooting star and Claire received news that her brother's baby might be on the way - Couldn't have been a more exciting moment.

On arrival at the National Park the lights seemed to have drifted off a bit. The glow was very faint, but by this point it didn't matter to any of us if we saw them again because the displayed we'd just seen had been so dazzling. After a very freezing hour, and mostly failed attempt to take pictures, we heading back on the bus to go back to Reykjavik, feeling thoroughly satisfied with our trip.

(Picture by Rhiannon)

On the way back, the driver pulled over again because they spotted an orange-coloured glow just outside of Reykjavik and he wanted us to see the different colours. After five minutes we set back onto the coach, ready for a good night's sleep, when the arrive shouted us back onto the bus. Out of the nowhere, there was a huge light across the entire sky, white, green, purple and orange... It was just like you see postcards and pictures of and it was absolutely stunning. We couldn't have dreamed of having a better experience and we couldn't believe it was our first attempt to see them. My pictures aren't great so here's one by Aaron Buis, a lovely American guy (and new hero to Asian tourists world wide) would took some fantastically beautiful photos.

(Picture by Aaron Buis)

Tuesday 12th February 2013

Tuesday got off to a slower start as we attempted to catch up on a little sleep. In the afternoon we headed to the Blue Lagoon, a big natural out door sauna. The weather was absolutely beautiful and we couldn't wait for a relaxing afternoon.

We arrived and hired a towel and bathrobe, and donned the electronic bracelets you use to get drinks and lock your lockers. We then had to shower before entry, and of course leave our generic bathrobes outside, meaning they all got taken so we'd already played a fun game of swapsies which carried on through the afternoon. It was freezing outside, but once you were in the water you'd think you were in a tropical country because it was so warm. We took some photos and cashed in on our free drink, definitely the sort of life I want to live. Several hours later, after another drink and an algae facial, skin soft and wrinkly from the salt, we left feeling refreshed and relaxed. It was an amazing afternoon and like nothing else I've ever experienced, truly truly beautiful. 

The ride home was also an amazing experience as we drove through the most beautiful sun set.

We had planned to try some Icelandic cuisine that night, and after a long walk found the restaurant we had planned to go to was no longer serving puffin and shark, so we headed to an adorable, more expensive looking, restaurant we had passed on the way down; I think fate had a hand in this because it was one of the most interesting and beautiful meals I've ever had.

We opted for the tasting platter - which I think is very apologetic of the Icelandic, as lots of countries just expect you to eat an enjoy their food, whereas there they are happy for you just to taste.

Minke Whale: Tastes like the old plague-y, wooden smell they pump into old museums where they try to recreate life from 400 years ago. 1 Star.

Wind dried cod: Sawdust texture until mixed with butter, then generally very yummy. 4 Stars.

Puffin with cranberry compote: Not how we expected, less like chicken, more like fish with a sort of duck-like texture, but pretty damn nice. 3.5 stars.

Fermented Shark: Not even food. Just an experience. They give it to you in an airtight jar, presumably to keep back the smell, and recommend that you follow with a chaser of Brevinnin - an Icelandic Schnaps. We opted for a Rip-The-Plaster-Off sort of tactic - only to discover that it's so tough you can't easily get a fork into it. To begin with it actually didn't taste bad, if you could fight the awful rubbery texture - but then the burn begins. The sort of burn that I couldn't describe if I wanted to. The man on the next table asked if it was peppery or chili - but it was neither. So quickly went the shot as well, which made things worse but I suspect it killed a few taste buds which I am thankful for. 0 Stars for Taste, 5 Stars for uniqueness.

Main course was Catch of the day - Blue Ling with barley risotto in white wine sauce, which was just divine, and definitely got rid of the shark after taste. I am so glad I went with people who were willing to try to weird cuisine. It's all very "When in Rome" but I think its important to experience everything you can when you go to another country, and it's definitely a good story too!

Wednesday 13th February 2013

Another beautiful and early morning in my new favourite country, Reykjavik and time for the famous Golden Circle tour. This is a very age-friendly tour because you essentially sit on a bus and stare at the beautiful surroundings, getting out every so often to see more of the miracles that nature hath provided us.

We were a little late out of the bus station because we were on the longest bus in the fleet, so it has a little bit of trouble going down town, (yes, that is what she said). First stop was a massive greenhouse, definitely one of the duller parts of the day, but there were more plants in shoes, and it was kind of interesting to see how they make their own locally grown crops in such a harsh environment.

Next stop was the Gullfoss Waterfall - one of the most impressive things I've ever seen through streaming eyes and blue fingers. The wind was intense and I'm so glad I got some nice pictures because I couldn't bring myself to check. Following it up with a nice warm cuppa with a view of the mountains definitely made the experience worthwhile!

Stop number three was the Geysir park. Geysir is actually the name of the oldest, extinct Geysir in the park. The active one, Strokkur, (teehee) went off about every five minutes and was pretty impressive. I got this cool shot of it going off and the sign. I waited on bended knee in the freezing cold and battled some Japanese tourists who moved out of the way with about ten seconds to spare before the eruption. Lucky for them...

Followed up with some authentic Icelandic Meat Soup and posing in Viking wear and with old troll men definitely struck the balance between cultured&sensible and immature&amusing.

The Fourth and Final stop was in the National Park we were at for the Northern Lights, which is a pretty awesome geographical feat, as it is where the Eurasian and North American Tectonic plates meet... (well, are separating) so we walked from Europe to North America, as I understand it. And the views were incredible.

As designated Food Expert of the holiday, I had found a restaurant called the Hofnin (The Harbour) which was... On the Harbour. So, tired and weary, we set off through a beautiful pink, girly sunset to have our final meal.

And what a meal. I had Reindeer meatballs in a blue cheese sauce, and Claire and Rhiannon had some locally caught Arctic Char. YUM FEST.

Wanting to catch an early night, we headed back to the hotel at about 8.30 so we could get some Zeds before our 5am transfer to the airport. Glowing from our beautiful last evening on our beautiful holiday, Rhiannon (whose name in Latin means "Good at spotting stuff") noticed a glow in the sky... We couldn't quite believe it but there it was - The Motherhugging Northern Lights! At 8.30pm in the middle of Reykjavik. Words cannot describe how amazed we were, they performed a lovely little Goodbye Dance, then hung around for a while for us to get some extra amateur pictures.

Needless to say, Zeds were not caught after this due to feeling like children on Christmas Eve.

I am not exaggerating when I say this is the best holiday and the most beautiful country I've ever been to. It was an incredible few days and I saw things that were just too spectacular for words or pictures to justify it. We've decided we want to go Northern Lights hunting every few years, because quite frankly once is not enough!

Go to Iceland, go now!

Les Miserables - A Review

This shouldn't be a review for Les Mis the film, this should be a review for the No. 17 mascara I got for free when I spent over £5 in Boots for surviving the whole three hours.

Incredible is not the word for this film. I have seen the stage version once and listen to the soundtrack regularly. I find it emotional, compelling and beautifully written.

But after seeing the film I realise that I did not fully understand the show. What seeing it on the screen gives is not only a sense of the the scenery and space the story takes place over, but the intricacies and nuances of the lyrics and emotions that even a front row audience member would miss out on. Seeing the characters faces in 20ft of high definition is not only pleasing when Hugh Jackman or Eddie Redmayne take centre stage, but it means you see, hear and feel every syllable of what they are singing, and this is what makes the story come alive. Now I can see the true change that Jean Valjean went through, his ability to forgive over and over again, his fear when Javert turns up time and time again - Javert's confusion as he is faced with someone so forgiving when he, himself, is driven crazy by a grudge from one prisoner so many years before. How quickly Fantine's life is ruined and how cruelly she is treated for simply wanting to look after her child. How outnumbered the men at the barricade were but how united and brave they were.

All performances were fantastic. The critics have genuinely been too harsh on Russell Crowe. He gave a compelling performance, and no he clearly has not had the same singing training as others, he lacked support and parts of Javert's songs are too high for his range but he did a cracking job, and Stars was just beautiful. Amanda Seyfried is slightly annoying, but Cosette is an awful character. All musicals need a dumb blonde who just floats through life on beautiful soprano tunes. No darling, it is not appropriate to talk about how lucky Marius is to have you forever when ALL HIS FRIENDS HAVE JUST DIED. But this isn't her fault. The one bit of emotion Cosette does express, when Jean Valjean dies was really convincing and did make me empathise with her a lot, so well done Amanda.

Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter were also fantastic, light relief in what could have been a three hour sob fest, definitely brilliant casting there.

I don't think there's much need to speak about Anne Hathaway or Hugh Jackman. Minus strange Scottish/Irish twinges to his voice at the beginning, Hugh Jackman was incredible throughout, and so was Anne Hathaway. Singing I dreamed a dream that close up was incredible. You've heard the song a million times but in a straight shot just with her on screen, even Susan Boyle would struggle to suprise an audience more.

Samantha Barks, whoever she is, is also absolutely stunning and gave a brilliant performance as Eponine. Little Fall of Rain is probably the most emotional song in the show and it did not fail to deliver. I just wish Cosette had died so Marius and Eponine could live happily ever after.

So back to the mascara. I had a little wobble in I Dreamed a Dream, when Cosette asked Jean Valjean if he would be Papa, but the real mascara challenge came from One Day More. Admittedly the song, and the fact lots of people are singing lots of things at the same time makes me excited and emotional anyway, but my gosh I was not expecting that. The cut away shots between each character means you can really appreciate everything that's happening at once, and it reducing me to a bubbling pile of snot and tears. From this point on I couldn't breathe through nose for fear of the noise my tears would make. My chin was wobbling, tears streaming down my front. I haven't cried that much in a film since Green Mile, and that's saying something. Red and Black, Gavroche's death  and Empty Chairs at Empty Tables rendered me pretty much useless, but as I left my make up was still full in tact. Well Done No.17, I shall be buying again.

The finale was just epic. In all honestly it could have finished with Eddie Redmayne and Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, but as it does, it plodded on just that little bit further, and for good reason. As Jean Valjean and Fantine's ghosts look out over the city of Paris where thousands of people sing Red and Black one last time, I had shivers down my spine and just the sheer volume of the singing was what made me cry.

Overall, I think the continuous shots, the close ups and the live singing are what made this film incredible. Even the weak parts are anything but and I really think they have done the stage version proud, and given new, deeper meaning to so many parts of the story.

Ten billion stars. Would see again.

Good morning, 2013

And what a beautiful morning it is.


2012 has been a whirlwind of a year. I somehow managed to balance three paid jobs, two voluntary positions, rehearsals and the final year of my degree through the first half. And I came out with a 2.1. Since September I've been working for a wonderful Digital Rights company (don't worry, I didn't know what it was four months ago and I'm only partly sure now...).

I'm pretty sure that the next 12 months aren't going to give me achievements anywhere near the stature or pride of a 2.1 degree or permanent employment, but even 13 hours into the year I know it's going to be fabulous!

Highlights will definitely be:

- Meeting Mary Kate and Ashley
- Seeing Phantom of the Opera
- Going to Iceland to see the Northern Lights
- Performing at the Cliffs Pavilion
- Directing my first show

I think I'm in denial about turning 23, I feel like I'm turning more and more adult each year, which is terrifying. Even Sam has a job where he has to wear a suit now. What happened there?

I hope next year brings myself and everyone I know happiness. As for myself, I'm just going to try and be a better person, to make more time and generally be in less of a rush.

I'm not angry, just disappointed.

I have a series of gripes with certain celebrity personalities. Some of which I vocalise on Twitter, some only in my head; some I write blogs about or use as inspiration for coursework. I tend to get unnecessarily het up over certain things, and I'm fully aware my comments make no difference to the world, society or the individuals that they pertain to. But I like to share it anyway.

For the last week and a half I have felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. I rarely feel sad. If I do it's for a very short amount of time, before I manage to wretch out some sort of positive side of the situation and I carry on with life.

Right now I just feel sad and let down by a selection of people who, whilst have never particularly been heroes or even of much interest to me; other than their title as "household names".

Firstly, we have those people, celebrities and politicians, who think it is okay to hide from the tax system. I have a lot of respect for Jon Richardson who quite plainly said "David Cameron gets criticised every day for having to fire doctors and nurses because there's not enough money in the pot. And one of the reasons there's not enough money in the pot is not everyone pays his taxes.". NB. This is not a political blog, the use of this quote doesn't mean I'm ignoring bad decisions or making any sort of political comment whatsoever. I just think it was a well put argument and I'm glad that he chose to have a go at Jimmy Carr and all the other tax evaders instead of just making it light hearted. If you disagree, take it out with Jon Richardson, not me.

What gives you the right to do this? Is it "just because you can get away with it"? Because that isn't an excuse, or there'd be a lot of serial killers and shop lifters walking free. Being famous, rich, or powerful does not give you the right to steal from your country and you are not above the law. How do you think the "little people" are feeling when half their wages are being taken, and you have more than enough to live off but you just store yours elsewhere for shits and giggles? Not cool.

Secondly, Rihanna. I literally can't even get into this. Back with Chris Brown? You absolute dickhead. I feel sorry for you and your fans you're setting a horrendous example to. It's just wrong. I've watched enough documentaries at work recently where families and victims of rape, assault or kidnappings have turned their experience into a foundation, a charity or even a law in some cases; and these people are nobodies without the money or the press links to make a difference, but Goddamnit they try.

Thirdly, Lance Armstrong: Inspirational cancer-over thrower, athlete, general good guy. Serial doper. Excellent, thanks Lance. All those people you have inspired to overcome weakness, to be a winner and to succeed - it's all based on lies. I realise nothing has necessarily been proved, and he's dropped the trial "because he's tired" of the battle, but that doesn't mean he's innocent. For crying out loud, your inspiration was even used in Dodgeball to get Peter to rejoin the team - that's how much of a well known story yours is, but it was all based on lies. Now it doesn't really matter how many tour de France's you won, or how many types of cancer you overcame you lied to us and that will always weigh more on our hearts than what you did achieve. 

When you're famous your life is like a soap opera. No it isn't controlled and planned by script writers, but at some point the truth will out. Nobody swaps a baby at birth, murders someone or steals from their family company without people finding out. You only can if you are a nobody, because no one is looking at you every day and no one gives enough of a shit to dig up your past. I'm not saying they shouldn't, but they won't.

Which leads me nicely to let down number four. Sir Jimmy Savile. Now I don't know what to make of these claims. I don't know why no one investigated the rumours or why it took until he died for any of these many, many women to come forward. But at the same time I'm not arrogant enough to try and get inside the mind of a terrified 12 year old girl who lived in a time when sex wasn't spoken about, rape wasn't necessarily taken seriously; so probably didn't understand what had happened to her.
Just like Lance; all the good you've done for charity, all the children you helped on your television programme, all of this means nothing now this has come out. And you're not even alive to face the music.
I have a world of respect for his family, who have moved and destroyed his headstone in order to retain the sanctity of the graveyard. I can't even begin to imagine how they feel right now, I would imagine they are heartbroken, and this won't just go away.



I don't envy people who live in the public eye. It's a lot of pressure and of course, no one expects people to be perfect. In fact all four of these cases differ in their level of severity and the people they've affected, but each of them, with a little thought and reasoning, could have been prevented by the individuals, or those around them. I think what makes me even sadder is the facade around so many of them. Jimmy Carr mocking the politicians for the expenses scandal, Rihanna saying she'd never go back to him, years of legacy from Lance, and the memorials and sadness all over the country when Savile passed away. It's all bullshit and lies, which I hate anyway; but the worst part is you can't even confront them about it. You set yourself to love and respect people and they just let you down and there's nothing you can do about it.

I'm not angry. Just disappointed. 

5 Reasons why Nicholas Cage should be my boyfriend

1. THE FILMS! OH GOD THE FILMS!

Every film that Nick Cage is in is fantastic in its own ridiculous way. The storylines sound like they were concocted in a meth lab and the dialogue generally sounds like the combination of a five year old and a tourettes sufferer. The characters are terrible, the women are degraded and the unthinkable always happens. Even in good quality films, such as Kick Ass or The Sorcerer's Apprentice, Nick Cage gives it his personal ReNicholas stamp to make assure you it will not disappoint.

2. When he loses his shit.

Whatever the film, whatever the storyline, Nick Cage will do what he does best - Go bat shit crazy. I probably have inflicted this video on you before, but if I haven't, prepare for the best 4 minutes 14 seconds of your life. This man has so much soul. I also own most of the films these extracts come from and I can assure that, in context, the outbursts make... absolutely no sense whatsoever.




3. Lines that you can only get away in a film starring him.

I am a film buff and a literary snob, and I am not afraid to admit it. Film and television with terribly dialogue, books that are written terribly make me die inside. But Nick Cage could be Christian Grey and I would read that damn book and watch the film on a loop over and over again. Dear Movie Gods - PLEASE cast Nicholas Cage as Christian Grey. It would be the best decision you ever made.

"You see this here femur? It belonged to your daughter"
"Two Roger's don't make a right"
"What's in the bag? A shark or something?"
"HAGGIS"
"How in the name if Zeus's butt hole did you get out of your cell?!"
"FUCKING HANGERS"
"Have you ever been dragged the pavement until your PISSED BLOOD"
"HOW'D IT GET BURNED, HOW'D IT GET BURNED, HOW'D IT GET BURNED?!?!?!?!"
"I never derobe before opening fire."

I could go on.

4. The way you can measure the greatest of one of his film on the awfulness of his wig.

Don't believe me? Check out pictures of his films, the more terrible the wig, the more terrible frigging awesome the film.

5. Dying like no man can.

Whether it's by a chip fryer to the face, or as a sacrifice to the honey Gods. This man dies in style. And he won't die quietly. What's more, he doesn't always stay dead, and his return is majestic and fantastic. SOMETIMES he's already dead. Is there anything he can't do?!