(28.03.2003 - 11:21 a.m.)
And how are me old droogies this morning? More beautiful than Beethoven's ninth, I hope. Shut your litsos and feast your goggles on this, a real horror show of an entry. In case you hadn't guessed, I saw the stage production of A Clockwork Orange last night. And it was... well, rubbish really. I appreciate that it must be very hard to successfully adapt something for stage that has been infamous in film form for so very long, but all the way through I was reminded of my old school productions; bits of shakey scenery and dance numbers running on for far longer than they ever should have. There were some redeeming features. Two of the actors were really very good, and some of the scenes did sustain an air of menace. But they were offset by music so loud that you couldn't hear large portions of the dialogue, and an all but redundant rape scene, because the entire cast were female, playing females. (Maybe there's a more nuanced and subtle analysis of that particular point, but it simply didn't work for me.) If it comes to a theatre near you, I shouldn't bother forking out for a ticket. Head down to Blockbuster, buy yourself some popcorn, get yourself comfy on the sofa and settle back for some classic Kubrick instead.
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