No chance of a nunnery

*fans self feverishly*

Liz got tickets to see the Doctor David Tennant in Hamlet at the RSC next summer, which is just the hottest ticket in town. And for £15 for the balcony? Bargain! This should be bloody great; I’ve only seen Hamlet on screen (Branagh‘s – first the short-length version, then the full-length version to see what the hell was going on – and the one with Ethan Hawke) and in theatre it should be fabulous. I’m relying on the RSC to avoid the irritations of Shakespeare – the actorLY pronounciation (I’m always reminded of the scene from Blackadder III, when the actors are trying to teach Prince George to act and Hugh Laurie growls like an epileptic bear), rushing through the lines so you can’t actually catch the words (just speak them normally! Shakespearian dialogue is perfectly comprehensible if you say it like a normal human being) and, the thing that annoys me most: jaunty running.

You know jaunty running. It’s the end of a scene. Everyone has to clear the stage; they’re off to battle, or fleeing the city, or have to warn someone before they commit suicide. So the actors do a little hoppity-skip. They break into a leisurely jog off to the wings. They probably look back at each other and raise their arms in fare-thee-wells.

Gah.

See? I will be going for the play as well the Doctor David Tennant, though it’d be disingenuous* to imply the Doctor David Tennant has nothing to do with it. (The Sun says he’s split up with Sophia Myles, and if The Sun says it, it must be true. Anyone want to hang out in Cardiff for a while? How’s he going to be able to check out the Time and Relative Dimensions in my Space**, otherwise?)

* I just had to look up disingenuous. This kind of excruciating vocabulary usage doesn’t come easy, you know.

** What, you think I don’t know I’m a geek?

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