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Anne Corrigan

~ Poet and Labyrinth Lover

Anne Corrigan

Monthly Archives: February 2017

The Foul-mouthed Fairy

19 Sunday Feb 2017

Posted by annecorrigan in Brian Froud

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Brian Froud, Faery Fayre, fairy poetry, Glastonbury, humour, Lessons Learned, Toby Froud

Brian and Wendy Froud will be at the Faery Fayre and Faery Ball at Glastonbury, 11 – 12 March. There will also be a screening of Lessons Learned, the live-action puppet animated short film written and directed by Toby Froud!

lessons-learned

For more information, visit: www.faeryevents.com

And to stick with the Froud theme, here’s a poem I wrote that was inspired by Lady Cottington’s Pressed Fairy Book, written by Terry Jones and illustrated by Brian Froud.

THE FOUL-MOUTHED FAIRY

In a beautiful garden
a sweet young maiden
wandered among the flowers
capturing pansies,
roses and daisies
in delicate watercolours.

It was lovely and warm,
so she sat on the lawn,
her sketchbook propped on her knees –
and then she caught sight
of a fairy, a sprite,
fluttering in the trees.

“Oh fairy sweet”
she did entreat.
“Come join me in the sun.
Oh fairy dear,
come over here
and we can have such fun.”

“Oh, bugger off!”
the fairy quoth.
“I’ve better things to do.
A sunny day’s
a total waste
spent with an oaf like you.”

“Oh playful imp”
She sweetly simpered.
“Please don’t be so vexed.
I merely propose
to ask you to pose
so that I can make a sketch.”

Then at long last
he fluttered past
and perched upon her page.
His glistening wings
were dainty things –
but his face was picture of rage.

“You bloody humans!”
the fairy fumed.
“You’re such a pack of fools.
You murder our weeds,
our plump slug steeds,
and dig up our toadstools!”

The girl never thought
this would be the sort
of language that fairies employed.
Yet, sad but true,
the air turned blue –
he really was quite annoyed.

The wicked wretch
said “Call that a sketch?!”
and let rip a stinking fart.
With a filthy leer
he flashed his rear –
then vandalised her art.

The girl was appalled
to have her work mauled
in a manner so degrading.
“I’ve had quite enough
of your language and – stuff.
That’s no way to treat a lady!”

“Lady?” said he.
“I don’t agree –
bloody hell, that’s rich.
You’ve a face like a mare,
and backside to spare –
I bet you’re a proper bitch!”

How could she reply
to such a foul lie?
She gave him a filthy look,
and before he could stir
up into the air –
she squashed him flat in her book!

So, ’twas bile and hate
which sealed the fate
of that very foul-mouthed fairy.
But the moral is this –
the sweetest young miss,
if crossed, can be pretty scary.

Labyrinth in London

13 Monday Feb 2017

Posted by annecorrigan in David Bowie, Labyrinth in popular culture

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Bowie mural Brixton, David Bowie, Duffy, Jareth, Labyrinth, Prince Charles Cinema, Proud Gallery

Up to London for Labyrinth Masquerade Ball – a screening with audience participation, singalong, and fancy dress!

As the screening is due to start quite late, I’ve booked into a hotel. I check in and leave my luggage, then go out for some more Bowie-related activity.

First stop is Brixton, to visit the Bowie mural. This time last year I was spending a lot of time here – some of it writing the Labyrinth sonnets that would become my book. Things have changed a little since then. The mural is now protected by a thick acrylic sheet, and there are signs asking people not to write on it. The department store next door, Morleys, has repainted its window frames white (though writing is starting to creep back over them again). There are new posters for Iman’s line of cosmetics, and already the faces of the models have that distinctive zigzag drawn on them.

And there are flowers, of course – always flowers. I light a candle and sit for a while, but it’s too cold and damp to stay long.

So I head off to my next stop – the Proud Gallery, in Chelsea for the Bowie by Duffy exhibition.

The late Brian Duffy took some iconic photos of Bowie, including those for the Aladdin Sane and Lodger covers. It’s interesting to see images you’ve been familiar with for years on an album sleeve – like the clown from Scary Monsters – suddenly larger and on a wall – makes you look at them with fresh eyes. There was also a Bowie photo I’d never seen before – one of him with a cute little black Scottie dog.

I get talking with the guy on the desk, who’s a Bowie fan. He shows me some smaller versions of the prints for sale – I’m quite tempted, but reluctantly decide to be sensible. The exhibition’s running till 19th February.

Time to go back to the hotel and change into my costume, then walk to the Prince Charles Cinema in Leicester Square. This is London, so no-one bats an eyelid at someone in a ball gown – though I do hear one woman say “This is why I love Soho.”

shrine-028

The Labyrinth Masquerade Ball is always sold-out – so you have to start queuing an hour before the doors open if you want a seat at the front. I take my place in line, next to a couple of girls who’ve come all the way down from Scotland to watch the film. It’s cold outside, so we’re all glad when the queue starts to move.

As we go into the auditorium, we’re each given a little paper bag with some goodies – a fizzy peach to bite, a miniature bottle of bubble mixture, and a party popper. The screening is hosted by a Jareth lookalike – but with a beard – and a hilariously overstuffed crotch!

shrine-075

He talks us through the responses you’re supposed to yell when different characters come on screen, then invites those in costume up onstage for the costume contest. There are some good costumes. Lots of Jareths and Sarahs, a grown-up Toby, a Didymus, and even a couple of worms.

Then it’s time for the film itself. Seeing it on the big screen is always a treat – and it’s not often I get to watch it with 300 people who love it almost as much as I do. Jareth (of course) gets a round of applause when he appears. The worm gets a chorus of “Ahhhh, cuuute!” We sing along with the songs, bite our peaches when Sarah does, blow bubbles during the ballroom scene, and pop our party poppers at the climax.

But all too soon, it’s over. There’s a rush for the tiny toilets, where people are trying to change out of costume before they head home. I just have to stroll around the corner. I pass a drag queen outside a bar and we mouth “You look fabulous!” at each other.

At the hotel, I’m not quite ready to sleep, so I decide to nip into the bar for a night-cap. It’s only when I get the bill that I notice the name of the bar – Henson’s. How appropriate!

Lazarus – the musical

07 Tuesday Feb 2017

Posted by annecorrigan in David Bowie

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David Bowie, Lazarus the musical review

lazarus-280

I wanted to love this, I really did…

Remember when Princess Diana died, and Elton John hastily rewrote the lyrics of Candle in the Wind to make it about her?

That’s what this feels like. Another jukebox musical slapped together from hits.

It was written with Irish playwright Enda Walsh – I did see his play Ballyturk, so I should have known what I was letting myself in for…

The fact that Bowie himself was involved makes it even more baffling. Apparently he gave Enda Walsh a few pages of notes, and a list of 69 songs to choose from – one can only wonder which other songs were on that list. Obviously Bowie wrote a vast amount of songs – too many to know where to start! – but most of the ones that made it into the show seemed like odd choices. So many of his songs were concerned with alienation, or insanity, or the nature of reality – surely it should have been possible to pull together something more coherent than this?

If you’re writing a musical about an alien stranded in America, then why not Starman, or Hello Spaceboy, or Loving The Alien? Why not I’m Afraid Of Americans, or Young Americans? Or anything from Outside?

I really hate it when these musicals clumsily change words to try to make the songs fit the characters.

(And in This Is Not America, idea is supposed to be sung as i-de-a, rather than i-dea, as a rhyme for America.)

I saw it at the Kings Cross Theatre, London. I didn’t realise it when I booked, but the show was taking place in a temporary theatre, that was really badly raked, so I spent a lot of time moving my head from side to side trying to see around the person in front of me – which probably didn’t help matters.

Spoilers ahead…

Thomas Newton, an alien stranded on Earth, sits in an apartment living on gin and Twinkies and wishing he could die. A nameless girl who may not exist wants to help him get home. His assistant Elly becomes obsessed with Mary-Lou (the woman who left him). There’s a sinister figure called Valentine. Plus there are other people and events which may or may not be in Newton’s imagination.

I did like the design of the stage. A room with two big windows (through which you could see the band) separated by a big television screen, from behind which actors could emerge. The screen had images of television Newton was watching (or possibly imagining) and other projections.

I liked the use of projections on the walls – wings at one point for Valentine, and a sequence showing Newton leaping about the room while the actor on stage was sitting still – I wish there had been more of that. And I liked the scene with the balloons.
But the colour was so drab. Beige clothes on a beige set – not very Bowie

Michael C Hall, as the alien Newton, did sing better than I was expecting, but I felt he was physically wrong for the part. Obviously you couldn’t ask any actor to become as skinny as Bowie was in the 70s, but this guy is too muscular to mistake for an ethereal alien. They could at least have given him the same hair colour as Newton in the film.

I thought Michael Esper, who played Valentine, was good – in fact, I think I would have liked to see him play Newton. And the band was very good.

But there were two scenes with flashing lights so strong I had to shut my eyes, and felt like I was going to be sick. So I don’t know what happened then – though I think someone was murdered – or possibly not… I’m also not sure what was going on when there seemed to be a load of milk on the stage – the bad rake didn’t help there.

I didn’t really care about any of the characters – unlike in the film, where you feel so sorry for Newton it’s almost difficult to watch.

And it was humourless – I mean, I wasn’t expecting a comedy, but the audience only laughed once in the whole performance I was at.

It’s hard to know what’s really happening (another song they could have used!) for a lot of the time – possibly it might make more sense if you were on drugs.

Seriously – if you’re the only alien on Earth, do you want a woman looking after you who’s clearly mentally unstable and incapable of holding down a job?
And is it really believable that her husband would become so suspicious that she was sleeping with her boss after just a couple of days?

Why does Newton think he can’t die? There’s nothing in the book or film that suggests he’s immortal.

Why does Valentine try so hard to get close to Newton?
If he is actually killing people, why doesn’t he try to kill Newton?

How does Elly know Mary-Lou used to call Newton Tommy? Can she hear his hallucinations?

Why is the musical called Lazarus? It’s not about a man who comes back from the dead. Why not call it Icarus, about a man trying to escape – Icarus being a motif in The Man Who Fell To Earth, both the book and the film?

I’m not sure who it’s aimed at. Those who haven’t read the book or seen the film won’t know what’s going on. Those who have can hardly be comparing it favourably.

There was a record player on stage, with some Bowie albums – meant as a tribute perhaps, but every time it caught my eye it just reminded me how un-Bowie the whole experience was.

I thought I might feel emotional watching this, even upset – not annoyed! There were some poignant lines, given what we now know – but by about twenty minutes in I realised it was going to be an endurance test. The show didn’t have an interval, and honestly, if it had, I probably would have left.

One final annoyance – the programme refers to Bowie’s film career. The Last Temptation of Christ, where he was on screen for about three minutes, is mentioned – but not Labyrinth, the film that for over a generation has been many people’s first introduction to Bowie. Grrrr…

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