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"Well
this is a fine mess I've got myself into" I mumbled to myself
as I trudged wearily to The Burton Taylor to watch Bash.
None
of my friends could be bothered to take up the offer of the second
free ticket and so I alone would have to endure the hour and a half
of student drama in this poxy little theatre.
It
was only afterwards I realised that I actually enjoyed the honour
and privilege of witnessing three fabulously acted mini plays in
the intimate splendour of a wonderfully close playhouse.
People,
I can't say this enough; this kind of theatre is a bit like exercise,
it might be uncomfortable to do but ultimately it'll leave you with
a warm glow and an excited mind.
Bash
is a set of three half-hour monologues, or in the case of the middle
piece, duologues. I'd fidget and play more attention to my socks
for the first couple of minutes but gradually I'd become totally
gripped by the harrowing stories of self confession.
I actually
woke up this morning mulling over the grievous implications of one
of the dark tales as though it was a real event. That is a tribute
to the truly natural delivery by the whole cast.
For
a more analytical assessment of the show please read Alexandra Clarke's
review in the where other elements are skilfully highlighted with
words like Juxtaposition. Better still go and see it.
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