Thursday 13 September 2012

Matilda The Musical

My experiences last night have led me to believe that Tim Minchin has been gifted with endless talent. The production of Matilda, at Cambridge Theatre, London, was quite simply sensational. My words can not do justice to the overwhelming brilliance that gushes forth from every moment of this show. Of course, the music, lyrics and performers will rightly take most of the plaudits, but every aspect of this show is instrumental in making it such a spectacle. 

Immediately, one notices the set, a barricade of books and letters, stretching to every corner of the stage. It was one of those sets that is ever-present and yet unnoticeable; a set that flows effortlessly from scene to scene. There was a seamless connection between the set and choreography at times. Indeed, the cast were used to embody objects and their mechanical movements were certainly similar to the workings of the apparently independent set. 

As with any musical, the music is vital and the hype surrounding Tim Minchin's debut West End show did not disappoint. I know a number of his songs very well as a result of endlessly typing his name into YouTube and trying, but failing to emulate his performances on the piano. His style was noticeable in several numbers: The prominent glides up and down the keyboard, as well as a few moments of musical comedy, with the trombone playing a leading role. The major difference to his previous performances is that this music caters especially well to young children, for whom the story of Matilda may be one of their favourite fables. And with the lyrics, the whole spectacle encapsulates the procedure of young children through school, from their imagination of it to the terrifying reality that school can be. The songs "Miracle" and "When I Grow Up" are influential in portraying these themes. 

Minchin's lyrics provide great entertainment for older generations as well, through wordplay and casual innuendo. Indeed, I can't recall another musical that makes such magnificent use of the plethora of words that the English language has to offer. Minchin finds alternative rhymes and ideas to produce his end product, which makes the show a must-see for all the family. 

However, the real sensation of Matilda is the stunning performance of the children. Their movement, singing and especially diction, demonstrated the maturity and confidence of seasoned professionals. The adult performances were excellent, particularly the roles of Mr Wormwood and Miss Trunchbull, but the children make the show so fabulous. Their instructions are to sing, dance and have fun. Their evening involves running manically around stage, dancing on tables, jumping on trampolines, flying onto crash mats and swinging over the heads of the audience. Their performances alone exude enjoyment and hilarity, generating laughter and applause throughout the theatre. 

It would be dangerous to underestimate the brilliance of this show. Everyone should see it. I challenge you not to enjoy it. I have no further superlatives to offer. Please watch Matilda. 

Thursday 6 September 2012

Andy Roddick: A Tribute

I was greatly saddened last night to witness the end of Andy Roddick's tennis career. He has always been one of my favourite players, one who I could watch and support for hours on end. But, all good things must come to a end, and Roddick's career unfortunately falls into this category. I don't quite know why I admire Roddick so much; his tennis ability is not spectacular and his serve action is peculiar, but he is a player that makes me want to watch. The Americans will make a big thing out of it, particularly as he is the last US male to win a grand slam, but I do feel that their extravagance may for once be deserved.

I was fortunate enough to meet Roddick during the Wimbledon Championships of 2009. I was 17 and had been hired to mow the lawn at the house he was staying in. I did my job well, maintaining the garden's magnificent appearance. However, on my second visit, I accidentally mowed over my key to the side gate, slicing it in two. I wasn't concerned as I knew I could just climb over the fence and be on my way. It was as I straddled the gate that Roddick's car pulled up. Out he stepped, with his wife, mother, coach, nutritionist, the world and his dog in my eyes. I hastily mumbled something about losing my key and averted my face from the several bemused expressions. Andy walked past and nodded appreciatively, with an amused smirk on his face. It certainly reduced my embarrassment, but also has given me the desire to share my experience with as many people as possible (I have told this story as fair few times...).

I don't know Andy Roddick and I am certain that he doesn't remember our meeting at all, but I now have a favourable memory of him that nothing can tarnish. He may not have been the greatest tennis player of all time, but he won a grand slam, one of only fifteen men to do so this millennium. For that, I believe he deserves a lot of respect.