The Christmas Eve Night of the Iguana

Natalia and I saw the latest version of The Night of the Iguana yesterday, at the Lyric Theatre. It was the first time I saw something in London's West End, as well as a Hollywood actor on stage (Woody Harrelson). Our seats were K9 and K10, beside a woman that fell asleep and snored, and another lady who kept unrapping candy throughtout the performance. At least nobody's cellphone rang. The five black teenagers in the back looked like they'd been whisked off the streets to fill up the half empty theatre. Why would any teenager want to spend their Saturday afternoon watching this play, unless they'd been coerced by their parents?

The play's set looked cool: a run down motel in Mexico, with palm trees, a hammock, shirtless boys & a "rum & coco" tray. Then the "acting" started. Granted, it wasn't as bad as Natalia thought ("like High School drama") but the shrill voice of the motel owner, combined with some ackward fighting scenes and a boring and unresolved second act made it a bit of a theatrical failure. You could see in Woody's face as they took their bows that he was scanning the audience for signs that people had really liked the play.

I enjoyed myself because I'm sometimes perversely attracted to kitsch. Hey, I own a videogame! And then there was one of the Mexican boys, walking around shirtless... if your seat is comfortable, and you are nicely chilled from an intermission beer, and there's a hot hispanic guy strutting on stage, and Woody Harrelson is in his swimming trunks washing sand off his feet, then you'd stay until the end, wouldn't ya? Yeah, whatever, I'm such a tasteless homo.

***

After taking showers, we are going to go for a walk. It's sunny and warm outside. Chicken roasting for later.

Festive Friends of Chucky

I need to find a way of convincing Natalia and Kevin that it's ok to watch Seed of Chucky on Christmas Day.