New Guest Post: Catherine Flies High with Boeing Boeing at Oldham Coliseum Theatre

You are probably all familiar with the old saying, if you want a job doing properly then send a better, sensible person to do it for you. Hence on Friday 15th May, whilst I was hanging round the alcohol at Cocktails in the City, the lovely Catherine went to press night of Boeing Boeing at Oldham Coliseum. Here's what she thought - beware though, she wrote this in a giddy mood after watching Eurovision, so there are a LOT of puns. DON'T SAY I HAVEN'T WARNED YOU...

Boeing Boeing touched down last week at the Oldham Coliseum Theatre for its opening night after originally flying into the West End for a seven year run during the 1960s. The play navigates the confusing love life of Bernard (Robin Simpson), a Parisian architect who has not one but three air hostess fiancés. Set during the early 1960s when a jet set lifestyle was still in its infancy, Bernard is able to take advantage of international scheduled flights to plan out his love life and create a dating system he describes enthusiastically as being mathematical “perfection”.

Luckily for Bernard his three fiancées all have names beginning with ‘G’: there’s Gloria from America (Laura Doddington), Gabrielle from Italy (Maeve Larkin) and Gretchen from Germany (Sarah Lawrie). All three also wear colour-coded clothing that makes it easy for not only Bernard, but also the audience to identify his different fiancées. The play takes off without a glitch as the coordinated comings and goings of Gloria, Gretchen and Gabrielle are as hassle-free as a place in first class. However, Bernard’s dating system soon meets turbulence when stormy weather and faster planes conspire to bring his system into free fall.

The first half of the play really begins to pick up the pace when Gloria takes off for America and Gabrielle flies in from Italy. Not long after this, Gretchen touches down in Paris from Germany and Bernard faces the uneasy prospect of entertaining both fiancées at once in his apartment - without either knowing about each other’s existence. From this moment on, the farce soars and things soon start to unravel faster than a transatlantic flight on Concorde. Bernard enlists the help of his best friend Robert (played by Ben Porter) who is visiting from the provinces, to act as a comic foil. He also needs his housekeeper Bertha (played by Gilly Tompkins) to help keep his love life airborne.

Because the action unfolds in one room, some elements of the plot are a little implausible at times. Gloria, Gretchen and Gabrielle would definitely be able to hear each other in the apartment and they would also be able to hear Robert and Bernard’s high-pitched, Carry-On-esque outbursts during the closing scenes. But this is a farce, and by its very nature should not be taken seriously. What prevents Boeing Boeing from becoming farcical is the on-set choreography as the different actors coordinate their moves seamlessly between the seven doors of the Parisian apartment. The energy of the choreography and comic performances by the cast are exciting and engaging throughout. The set itself is also impressive, with a convincing view of the Eiffel Tower illuminated in the background to remind the audience that this is Paris in the swinging sixties.

Boeing Boeing has been adapted for Oldham Coliseum Theatre by director Robin Herford from Swiss-born Frenchman Marc Camoletti’s play written in 1960. The original was a huge hit and it appears in the Guinness Book of World Records for holding the title of the most-performed French play ever. It’s well worth watching this classic hit at the Oldham Coliseum theatre before it’s Boeing Boeing gone.

- Boeing Boeing is at Oldham Coliseum Theatre until 6th June. Photos used in this post are courtesy of Joel C Fildes.

Guest Blog Post: Susan Hill's The Mist in the Mirror at Oldham Coliseum

So, I've been a bit off-colour the last few weeks, and have had to hand over the blogging reins to some trusted souls - including the lovely Catherine, who has been to Oldham to see the premiere of The Mist in the Mirror, based on the novel by Susan Hill and adapted for the stage by Ian Kershaw. Here's what she thought of it...

Oldham often bears the brunt of the wintry weather in Greater Manchester and there was definitely a strange chill over the town on Tuesday evening, when Oldham Coliseum Theatre hosted the world premiere of Ian Kershaw’s adaptation of Susan Hill’s The Mist in the Mirror.

Avid fans of the Gothic tradition will not be disappointed with this chillingly entertaining production as Kershaw’s adaptation retains all the terrifying plot elements of Hill’s Gothic novel including: orphaned hero, terrifying villain, lots of thunder and lightning, eerie old houses, and even the Yorkshire moors.

Set at the turn of the 20th century, The Mist in the Mirror follows orphaned hero James Monmouth (played by the affable Paul Warriner), as an ‘honest’ gentleman on a quest to trace his family history. James travels from Africa, where he was sent to live at the age of 5, back to his native England. One gloomy evening he finally arrives in a Dickensian-like London that is smothered in fog and harbouring secrets down every alleyway.

It is at this moment that the production really brings the dark magic of the play to life. Whilst the narrator of the tale (played by Jack Lord) starts to recount the journey, a steamboat lurches into view and words appear to write themselves around the interior rim of the set. Actors pull wings from the blackened stage, and the dark set is suddenly transformed into an inn, then it morphs into a London street, and then an antiquarian bookshop. The list of set transitions and locations is copious, and all morph within the blink of an eye.

The stunning video and light projections are perfectly choreographed to every actor’s movements. Even the act of holding a lamp or candle is visually arresting in this play as the glow creates creeping shadows on the walls, illuminates a door that definitely wasn’t there a second ago, and allows the audience to glimpse the terrifying epitaph of the play’s arch-villain, Conrad Vane. Some of the set-pieces of the video projections include Monmouth’s spine-chilling amble around a library in search of Vane’s demonic writings, and a journey on a steam train to Yorkshire, complete with moving landscapes and falling snow.

A Gothic tale couldn’t be ‘gothic’ without exaggerated pathetic fallacy and Kershaw’s production brought the first audible gasps of fright from the audience with a huge crack of lightning that rippled across the backdrop. Further gasps and jumps were created by the lingering spectre of an unknown boy with a cloth sack for a head, who haunts James Monmouth throughout the play, and it’s a spectre that isn’t a video projection. This makes his appearances all the more terrifying and it will be impossible to look at a scarecrow in the same way ever again.

So, whilst the wintry mist still lays thick over Oldham, go and see The Mist in the Mirror before it descends on another town as part of its nation-wide tour.

...so, I think we can all agree Catherine is too professional by half and has put me to shame somewhat - gald she enjoyed it though (said through slightly gritted teeth). I'm keen to see this (despite having embarrassed myself when I saw Susan Hill's The Woman in Black at the theatre by being openly and audibly terrified) - luckily it's on until 21st Feb: full details here.

(All Mist in the Mirror production shots: credit Joel C Fildes)

The Flanagan Collective's A Christmas Carol: Theatre, but with SPROUTS

I've never made any secret of the fact that I'm a big fan of Christmas. Obviously, I very much enjoy the additional opportunities for eating and drinking afforded by a celebration that now seems to fill an entire month, but my love of Christmas goes beyond mere greed and also encompasses my fondness for tradition. I love the whole ritual of it all - getting the decorations down from the loft, wrapping presents with a small snifter of sherry, watching It's a Wonderful Life with a glass of port and, best of all, re-reading Dickens' A Christmas Carol every year (and let's face it, Christmas hasn't really started until you've seen the Muppets film version as well).

Joyous news then that this December brings with it the chance to combine these two great pleasures into one irresistible Christmas package. A pop-up theatre - The New Playhouse - has appeared (as if by Christmas magic) in the Great Northern complex on Deansgate, and is hosting performances of The Flanagan Collective's version of A Christmas Carol throughout the month. This is no ordinary theatrical experience though: our first clue comes as we are purchasing Prosecco from the bar area (so far so standard) and notice a door in the corner with a sign proclaiming this to be the residence of one "Scrooge and Marley". Before long, we are allowed to go through it, and find ourselves in Scrooge's very parlour - we take our seats in various locations around the room and the play, such as it is, begins.

I say "such as it is" because this is unlike any play I have ever seen. Yes, there is some fine acting, but the story of Scrooge is so well known that there really is no need to spell it all out for us - instead, we are immersed in an evening of songs, parlour games, dancing and - hurrah! - eating. A very fine meal of cold meats, bread, veg (LOADS of sprouts - Jacob Marley fetches me seconds) and a couple of splendid homemade pies is served up partway through, along with mulled wine and some Christmas pudding and mince pies for afters - no mean feat when there are over forty hungry people in need of refreshment. We pull crackers (I win a pirate eyepatch); we sing Christmas songs as Marley accompanies us on his guitar; we play parlour games, including a few rounds of "Who Am I" during which my friend, who has made the mistake of wearing an eye-catching festive jumper, predictably finds himself sitting in Scrooge's armchair asking us questions such as whether he's male or female (jury still out on this one).

Everyone loves it, and is more than willing to embrace the Yuletide spirit despite it only being the 2nd December. As well as all the silliness there is also some very imaginative and atmospheric drama, including a truly inspired moment when Scrooge breaks free from the theatre and runs round the Great Northern amphitheatre as we watch him from the window. The whole thing is performed by just two very talented men (although we obviously help a great deal, and there are several nice people who bring us dinner) - John Holt-Roberts as Jacob Marley and Al Barclay as Ebeneezer Scrooge (pictured above courtesy of James Drury). Both are thoroughly charismatic and engaging, and one of them can even do handstands, something that I don't recall from the book - clearly time I read it again...

- The Flanagan Collective's Christmas Carol runs until 19th December (I can only imagine how much better it gets the closer we get to Christmas) and costs £35 a head (including that mighty dinner) or £30 each for groups of 10 people or more - tickets are quite scarce now but can be purchased here. And if you're still in doubt whether you should book, take a look at these photos and think about whether you've ever seen people having this much fun at the theatre before.

Chicago Comes to Oldham Coliseum Theatre: Murder and Sequins Ahoy

It's an unavoidable fact of life that we all have our weaknesses. Most of mine are food or drink related - cheese, crisps and a Friday gin and tonic (or seven) all feature strongly on the list of things I am not good at saying no to - but not exclusively so: for I must also confess to a certain guilty pleasure in a musical, ideally one I know well enough to sing along to in exuberant and slightly tuneless manner whilst looking forward to a glass of pink wine at the interval. In fact, Chicago fits the bill perfectly, and as luck would have it Roxie Hart and co. arrived at Oldham Coliseum Theatre on Friday for a month-long residency of murder, high-kicking and over-sized white gloves.

You probably know the story: Roxie Hart, married to boring Amos, murders ANOTHER man, goes to prison, meets fellow murderess Velma Kelly, does some singing and dancing, appoints celebrity lawyer Billy Flynn, does some more singing and dancing, gets off, puts on small sparkly outfit, does some more singing and dancing. It's all marvellous, of course - and even more excitingly, the Oldham Coliseum Theatre production is a new and original one, the first since 1997. Whatever updates have been made, all the songs will be there - I'm already warming up for my own personal big number (All That Jazz, obviously) and am very confident I can drown out the 18-strong cast if it comes to it.

I'm going later this week, but in the meantime you can read more about it here. The production runs until Saturday 12th October, with ticket prices between £11.50 and £21 - bagsy be Velma...

The Lady Boys of Bangkok: The Glamorous Amorous Pavilion Sets up at Old Trafford, Manchester

Much to Mr Liz's eternal chagrin, he has found it exceptionally difficult over the years to get me to pass through what he considers to be the hallowed gates of Old Trafford football ground. To this day, I have been but twice - the first visit being a Sport Relief outing and the second a trip to admire some Brazilian skills during the 2012 Olympics; indeed, whilst Mr Liz stands there burbling about theatres of dreams etc etc, I am more likely to be seen high-tailing it down the road to the nearby cricket ground, or the shops and restaurants at The Lowry Centre.

He cannot perhaps be blamed, then, for demonstrating some suspicion at my sudden enthusiasm for hopping onto a tram in the next few weeks and making my way not to Damson Media City (where I would normally prefer to be going) but to Old Trafford itself. Nor do I plan to get beyond the carpark, for that is where the shimmering beauties who make up The Lady Boys of Bangkok will be pitching their marquee of delights between June 21st and July 6th for the Manchester leg of their Glamorous Amorous show. Don't be thinking this is just any old tent though - The Sabai Pavilion is a fully carpeted palace which seats nearly 400 people, with a licensed bar and a Thai restaurant in the foyer, where I fully envision myself perched at a table in the cabaret room whilst sipping on something sparkly.

The show itself looks to be frankly beyond words, promising a set list that ranges from J Lo to Whitney, via Cheryl Cole, Saturday Night Fever and - um - Gangnam Style. I've not been to see a Lady Boys show before, but general consensus amongst friends who have is that you should simply go with it - they are funny, and talented, and professional, and beautiful (sickeningly so, by all accounts - I may have to dig out a bit of make up and a sequin or two if I'm not to be hopelessly outclassed). I'm going in a couple of weeks, so expect a full report then.

And Mr Liz? He isn't coming along. I thought I might find him an uncomfortable outdoor seat with minimal leg room and leave him sitting there, in the rain, clutching an overpriced pint in a plastic glass just to really recreate the Old Trafford experience - meanwhile I'll be taking up my place at my cabaret table and ordering that first bottle of fizz in the Sabai Pavilion...

- Full details of The Lady Boys of Bangkok's Glamorous Amorous show can be found here.

Oldham Coliseum Theatre: Noel Coward's Hay Fever, Sebastian Faulks' Birdsong, and an Unfunny Girl with a Bad French Accent

Now, when I started this blog some two hundred years ago (well, nearly 6), I had no hesitation in choosing its name, no doubt imagining an all-encompassing, far-reaching, wide-ranging romp around every single last area of the city. Looking back over previous posts, however, it becomes sadly apparent that, in practice, this has not exactly been the case; indeed, an uncharitable soul might suggest, with some accuracy, that a better name for the blog might have been "Things to do in central Manchester, ideally in locations that can easily be accessed from the train station, with occasional forays to places in Didsbury that I can walk to from my house".

Thus I am ever grateful when something out of my normal radius is gently pointed out to me. I have become a convert to Royton Real Food, for example, and am now thinking of becoming most interested in another location just down the road from this monthly food paradise - Oldham Coliseum Theatre. Quite aside from the fact that this is a building full of history, dating from 1885 and the only surviving theatre from this period in Oldham, there are a couple of things coming up that I very much want to see. From tomorrow until Saturday 29th June, Noel Coward's Hay Fever is playing - forget the fact that this was written in 1924 by a fey gentleman with a penchant for a cigarette in a long holder, for this play is still funny and always will be. It's one of those country house pieces that show the British upper classes at their toe-curling best, focusing on the fairly horrific Bliss family and their treatment of their weekend guests - you may wish to make a helpful sign to hold up near the start of the performance that simply advises "RUN AWAY NOW".

And then, looking further ahead, the first week of July sees the arrival of Birdsong, adapted from one of my favourite books and recently seen on TV with the pouty-mouthed Eddie Redmayne in the starring role of Stephen Wraysford. This production trumps that particular piece of casting, however, as the touring show not only stars Sarah Jayne Dunn (meaning that Mr Liz will have something pretty to look at and will therefore be distracted from the cultural nature of proceedings) but also features Arthur Bostrom. If you are of a certain age you will already know who Arthur Bostrum is; younger readers should be advised that he will find it most amusing for you to stand up during the performance and call out witty remarks about "pissing by the door"*.

*NB The actor will NOT, in truth, find this amusing.

Full details can be found on the theatre's website. See you there - I'll be the one being physically ejected whilst still laughing uproarously at my own joke about it being a "Good Moaning"...

Abba Forever Comes to Manchester Opera House Later This Month: Local Girl Rejoices, and Sings Along, quite Loudly

I've written before about my startling capacity for over-estimating my own likely mental ability on any given evening, with a long and predictable history of booking heinously intellectual activities on week nights. Would I like to review a six-hour staging of Ibsen's more obscure works, performed backwards and entirely in Peruvian, in three weeks time? Why yes! An experimental musical evening where the works of someone I've never heard of are performed only on items found in a cutlery drawer? Please! The trouble with booking things a long time ahead is that anything seems possible; then you get to the evening in question and all you want to do is go home from work, put your pyjamas on and admire Romola Garai's tailoring in The Hour, whilst drinking tea.

Well, finally I have learnt my lesson. For on Thursday 16th May I will be casting aside my highbrow pretensions and going to see something I actually want to see: the Abba Forever tribute show rolls into town, offering a joyously uncomplicated evening of Swedish melody and exuberantly-styled hair, with singing, and dancing and - probably - an ice-cream at half time. The Abba Forever show has been running since 1998 and has a reputation for being one of the stand-out tributes to the Nordic giants, with totally live performances and a focus on tight musicianship; they also - worryingly - promise to take audiences "on a journey back to the 1970s". Hopefully this means in joy of spirit rather than by re-creating the fetching pudding bowl haircut and crocheted baby outfits I would actually have been sporting during this dubious period.

So, if you're giving the Ibsen a miss, I'll no doubt see you all at Manchester Opera House on the 16th; I want it completely understood though, that as reigning Abba Singstar champion, I shall be playing the part of Agnetha - albeit from the comfort of my chair.

- Abba Forever is at the Manchester Opera House on Thursday 16th May, and begins at 7.30. Tickets priced from £17.50 - 19.50 are available here.

Opera North's The Makropulos Case at The Lowry: Guest Blogger is Smitten, and Wants to Bounce on her OWN Bed

Now, I know what you're thinking, and it goes a little something like this: "Well - that WAS an enjoyable and informative blog post on Opera North's current productions of Faust and Don Giovanni - I feel it was was entertaining AND useful - infotainment, if you will. However, I believed Opera North to be touring THREE shows this season - what of The Makropulos Case? And, more importantly, who will go out of Strictly tonight?"

Well, as it happens I can answer BOTH of those questions for you, but in the interests of leaving your viewing pleasure unbesmirched I will concentrate solely on the former - here's lovely guest blogger Nicole to tell us more...

Now, as an opera virgin, I'm not afraid to admit that I did have some pre-conceptions. Firstly, that all operas are highbrow, frequented by people who know the plot, and the songs (yes, I know that's not the technical term) intimately. In my mind, there is also a strict dress code - diamond drop earrings, glittering floor-length gown and expensive fur definitely NOT optional. Cue frenetic fretting about what to wear, curbed only when Liz tells me, "dress smartly, but not too glamorously, as the man next to me was wearing an actual anorak!" As a firm believer that there is no outfit that cannot be tarted up with a shiny blazer, a pair of vertiginous heels, and slick of red lipstick, I slid into a taxi (the tram being, in my mind, wholly unsuitable for such an important event in my life) and made my way to The Lowry for my first ever opera experience - Opera North's production of The Makropulos Case.

His penultimate opera, The Makropulos Case is one of Janacek's lesser known works - an adaptation of Karel Capek's play of the same name, written in the 1920s. At the heart of The Makropulos Case is the long-hoped-for resolution of the Gregor vs. Prus case, a legal battle over an unclaimed estate that has dragged on for over a century, and dragged many generations of both families into destitution and death. Albert Gregor ('Bertie' - played with complete conviction by Paul Nilon) is on tenterhooks waiting to hear the outcome of the latest legal brawl, when the "dazzling, seductive and fascinating" soprano Emilia Marty (the captivating Ylva Kihlberg) arrives at his lawyer's office with some surprisingly accurate knowledge of the case, and some mysteries of her own. Bertie promptly falls in love with Miss Marty, and so begins the drama. Although essentially a dramatic comedy, The Makropulos Case presents some real food-for-thought: if you could live forever, would you really want to if it meant living without love? And can we ever truly appreciate life unless we accept that at some point, we will die?

Opera North have set their production in the same decade, and the set design and costumes are suitably 'roaring', particularly Miss Marty's shimmering dress coat, which I briefly considered snaffling, as it is entirely suitable attire for my next girls' Sparkle Night. The staging was particularly inventive, with the detailed hustle and bustle of a lawyer's office in Act 1 convincingly portrayed through stacked shelves and desks in varying states of disarray. Act 2 takes place backstage following Marty's latest performance, giving the cast the opportunity to have fun and allow the audience in on a few backstage secrets, with a knowing wink. The final act brings the story to its riveting climax in Marty's hotel room, where the bed in the middle of the stage, resplendent with diaphanous curtain, becomes the focus, despite the huddle of armchairs stage right (well, I am practically an expert now) that remains throughout the acts, serving as a waiting area, a stack of disused furniture, and a lounge area respectively.

Admittedly, the first 15 minutes of the opera were, for me, a rather unsettling experience. Having been led to believe that opera consists of a series of sung pieces hinged on a gravely serious plot, it was a surprise when the characters began to sing their lines to each other. Coupled with the fact that The Makropulos Case is a comedy, as an opera novice, I felt in a state of cognitive dissonance - was I to laugh, or nod soberly? As soon as I realised laughter was acceptable, nay, expected (especially with such pithy quips as "Do you want to spit in my face?" "No, I want to spit in my own!"), I got into the groove. I found myself unable to take my eyes off Kihlberg, and began to fancy myself as an Emilia Marty figure: beguiling, jet-setting, jaded. Well, I was wearing red lipstick...My companion and I both agreed that Act 3 was most enjoyable, due almost entirely to Kihlberg's mesmerizing portrayal of Marty's self-destruction - as she bounced on the bed with reckless abandon whilst swigging from a bottle of wine, we exchanged a glance of recognition, mentally singing along to our own internal soundtrack *aaaall byyyyy myyseeellf...* Unfortunately, this was the only song to run through my head following the performance as the production did not include any sung pieces, which I was a little disappointed by. Despite this, the orchestral accompaniment was aurally luminous, and the ovation for conductor Richard Farnes justly deserved.

Back to my pre-opera pre-conceptions. I can honestly say that Opera North made my first experience a very positive one. The Makropulos Case is accessible for opera newbies as it is sung in English, and for those who can't quite discern the dialogue, the subtitles are helpfully displayed on large, easily-visible screens to the side of the stage (however, if like me, you find yourself needing to continually refer to the subtitles to be sure you are following the complexities of the plot, it can be distracting). With all first-timers, I must reflect on what I have learnt from my experience: 1. Opera can be funny. 2. Not all operas contain arias (yes, I have now learnt the technical term) 3. You don't have to be glam, but of course it helps if you identify with the main character...! My companion - also new to the opera - summed up her experience of The Makropulos Case as being "like a musical version of Death Becomes Her - but in a very good way". And in the taxi home, we found ourselves deeply engaged in a discussion about the relevance of Heidegger's 'Seine zum Ende' (a being towards death) - his idea that until we accept that death is not just a possibility, we will never fully 'live' our lives. Now who would have thought my first experience of opera would have provoked a discussion of 20th century German existential philosophy? Certainly not I, but I would certainly go again.

Opera North's Faust and Don Giovanni at The Lowry, Salford: Local Girl Tra-La-Las and Wants to Dress as Madonna

There's a general perception, I think, that opera is kind of old, and stuffy, and elitist. If I asked you to picture your idea of a typical opera-goer, I'm betting there's a good chance you'll think of a posho posh elderly couple - he has a grey suit, and a slightly military bearing, and possibly a handkerchief a-poking out his top pocket; she has a tidy bouffant updo, and a twinset, and possibly a pince-nez. And I'm not denying that there weren't plenty such in evidence at The Lowry this week when Opera North rolled into town, bearing tasty mid-week treats in the form of Faust on Tuesday night and Don Giovanni on Wednesday, but they certainly were not in the majority - what Opera North do best is make this most majestic of all the theatrical arts accessible, appealing, and - dare I say it - sexy to all.

And I do mean ALL - I can pay no finer accolade to Opera North than by pointing out that, on a busy night of European football action, Mr Liz actually requested to come and see Gounod's Faust with me on Tuesday. This classic tale of a middle-aged scholar and his desperate yearnings to relive the pleasures of his youth (hmmm - *looks closely at self in the mirror*) was first performed in 1859 and has been an Opera North favourite since 1986; the current production opened to rave reviews in Leeds last month.

You probably know the story already - Dr Faust is a lonely man, getting older and feeling all alone in a world he no longer relates to; he contemplates suicide, and calls upon Satan, who duly appears and offers him renewed youth and all its pleasures in exchange for the trifling consideration of his immortal soul. The clincher here is the vision that Mephistopheles shows him of Marguerite, a beautiful young woman who - the devil suggests - can be Faust's if he agrees to make the deal; Faust thinks long and hard for about half a second and agrees. He is transformed into an attractive young man (albeit minus his soul, which now glows becomingly in the devil's greedy mitt) and begins his pursuit of Marguerite; I will reveal no more of the plot but will suggest that all of this is unlikely to end well, lest we all start following Faust's example, handing over our souls to any passing charmer (hmmm - *looks closely at self in the mirror, again*).

As ever with Opera North, the central performances are flawless - Peter Auty shines as Faust, and I am finding James Creswell FAR too sexy as Mephistopheles by the end of the show. Juanita Lascarro is also most convincing as the chaste young girl who gamely resists Faust's advances until he showers her with shedloads of diamonds (*mirror now on floor, smashed*). The updating is as inventive as ever - the chorus takes the guise of a bunch of immoral, greedy, lascivious bankers, storming the stage importantly wielding their iPads, and much use is made of sliding screens onto which are projected various images which are often suitably dark and unsettling (but which do at times become a little distracting).

Anyway, after all this brilliant darkness, and passion, and death, it is fortunate that Wednesday night's production of Mozart's Don Giovanni is played very much for laughs. This is an equally familiar tale - Don G is a serial charmer and seducer, making a string of empty promises to all the women he meets and then leaving them heartbroken and - in the case of his magnificent former conquest Elvira - more than a little cross. We follow him on his eventful last day, which begins with a grope that goes very wrong and ends with a splendidly baroque picnic with a dead man, with just time to seduce a bride on her wedding day in between.

I know that this perhaps doesn't sound like a barrel of laughs (particularly as, the same as Faust, we know that things cannot possibly end well for a man who is mean to women and goes round killing people, or they'd all be doing it), but it really is. This is largely due to the character of Don G's increasingly frustrated servant Leporello, who spends most of his time either keeping watch while his master is seducing his latest lady friend or avoiding a comedy beating from all the previous ones; he is splendidly played by Alastair Miles with a perfect combination of righteous anger and a keen urge to get laid himself, just once. Other standout performances come from the women - Elizabeth Atherton makes for a feisty Elvira, alternating between a classy laydee and a dejected, pouting figure dressed in Desperately Seeking Susan era Madonna-esque lace, whilst Claire Wild's turn as Zerlina, the innocent young bride who turns out to have a great deal of inner raunch, contains one song (delivered from atop her new husband) that you probably won't forget in a while.

The staging is also quite brilliant, relying heavily on use of puppets - characters often appear as scaled down, mannequin-like versions of themselves, and the moment at the end when our philandering hero finally meets his maker is quite something. It also goes without saying that in both productions the music is flawless - Opera North might play it for laughs sometimes, but they always take the essentials seriously, which probably explains why they appeal to both opera purists and to people like me and my Wednesday companion (who particularly enjoys the bit where Don G buries his face in a pair of boob-shaped jellies). In fact, as she was, until Wednesday, an opera virgin, I will use her words to sum up her cherry-popping experience: stunning, brilliant...and SAUCY. And that, I would say, sums up Opera North pretty well.

- You can find out more about Opera North here, and about The Lowry and their other productions here.

Opera North Go Wild at The Lowry for Local Girl's Birthday: Faust, Don Giovanni and The Makropulos Case all in November

Now, on the whole, having a birthday in November is a largely undesirable situation. I understand, of course, that it's not as bad as being born just before Christmas and thereby receiving only one set of presents as well as having to compete with celebrations for somebody else's birth, but nevertheless it really does mean a pile up of festivities at one end of the year and then very little else for 11 months - woe betide the November baby who runs out of Jo Malone mid-March, for example *voice of experience*.

Still, this November I shall be celebrating my birth in style by going to not one but THREE new productions at The Lowry Theatre by the wonderful Opera North; it's as if they knew that I would never be able to choose just one to go and see, and have handily arranged matters so that I may justify the whole rip-roaring, roof-raising lot of them. First up is Faust, with performances on Tuesday 6th and Friday 9th November; this got a pretty good write-up in The Sunday Times last week, with the observation that "Opera North bring Gounod's cheesy fable forcefully and cleverly up to date". Anyone who has seen an Opera North performance before (particularly the trailer-trash version of Carmen that visited Manchester last year) will know that this kind of modern approach is one of their strengths, even if they do manage to upset the odd traditionalist from time to time, so this bodes well indeed.

Alongside Faust, Opera North are also bringing Mozart's Don Giovanni (on Wednesday 7th and Saturday 10th November) and a Janáček opera that I am not familiar with called The Makropulos Case on Thursday 8th. Both of these deal with love, the former telling the story of an inveterate pleasure-seeker (based, of course, on Don Juan) as he cuts a seductive swathe through the hearts of all he lays eyes (and more) upon, and the latter posing a more romantic conundrum by asking us whether we would wish for immortality even if our endless life was one without love (answer: maybe, possibly - not sure; would depend on supply of chocolate digestives and American TV box sets).

Anyway, full details can be found here on the Lowry website, and I will leave you with some tempting images from Don Giovanni. Remember though, you might wangle permission to see one or all of these, but you ONLY get ice-cream at each and every interval IF it is Birthday Month...

An Evening of Burlesque at Manchester's Palace Theatre: Local Girl (Thankfully) Keeps Clothes ON

Now then, let's be honest about this: Manchester, much as I love it, does not always make it particularly easy for its residents to feel sexy. Take any night last week, for example - even the most cursory of glances at a random selection of Mancunian timelines would have indicated beyond any reasonable doubt that Manchester was pretty much at home, in its pyjamas, on the sofa with the heating on, drinking hot chocolate with brandy in it. To many of these Mancunians, even the thought of taking their clothes off long enough to jump into a hot bath seemed HIGHLY unpalatable.

Let us spare a moment then, to ponder the fortitude, bravery and downright selflessness of the plucky ladies and gentlemen performing at Manchester's Palace Theatre last Friday night in An Evening of Burlesque. This was a filthy wet night - cold, showery and miserable (although Mr Liz did manage to convince himself it was weather enough for a cheeky banana gelato at the nearby Fresco Freddo's beforehand) - yet here they were: suspenders jaunty, corsets laced, tassels poised, purely for our entertainment (and that was just the MEN).

I have to be honest and say I didn't really quite know what to expect from An Evening of Burlesque, basing my imaginings on a vague awareness of Dita Von Teese and a recent visit to the Faerie show at Paris' Moulin Rouge. And perhaps it was unfair to judge the show based on this admittedly rather sketchy body of existing knowledge, but the first half was certainly something of a disappointment - a mish-mash of traditional variety-style acts, fire-eating, singing and suspenders. It lacked any kind of cohesion and left the (clearly well-oiled) audience of hen parties and birthday celebrants baying for more; it seemed very tame and - dare I say it - a little unprofessional. A confused, slow version of Ice Ice Baby performed by compere Ivy Paige pretty much summed this half up for me - a little dull, a little wrong, a little, well, odd.

What a difference an interval makes. The second half was fabulous: Ivy Paige won us over with a VERY funny section involving an audience member who was supposedly stalking her; the Folly Mixtures quartet of burlesque dancers, kept exceedingly under-wraps in the first half, were finally allowed to show off their beautifully sparkly and strategically placed tassels in a series of group and individual pieces which were far more engaging than their earlier equivalents; and the star of the show, Amber Topaz - the original "Yorkshire Tease", as seen below - got to show off her full range of considerable talents (by which I mean that she sings beautifully, as well as being funny AND sexy - get your minds out the gutter).

So overall, a good night - if the first half had been up to the standard of the second, I would have been so overcome with burlesque spirit that I may well have treated my fellow travellers to a quick strip on the bus on the way home, inclement weather or not. As it was, I kept my clothes firmly on, and hurried home to turn the heating on, don fleecy pyjamas and have a nice cup of hot chocolate...

Rat Pack Live, Blues Brothers Live and An Evening of Burlesque all Come to Manchester: Local Girl Casts Off Shakespeare Shackles

Sometimes, it's hard to accept that we are who we are rather than who we think we should be. Getting older of course helps with this: being advanced in years has finally gives me the confidence to admit that I don't like festivals (mud/chemical toilets/crowds), or Dickens (too long/too smug/too pompous), or certain city centre bars (queues/ridiculous prices/clientele almost exclusively young enough to be own child), amongst other things. And now, the final bastion has fallen, at last. For, despite being an English lecturer with a great love of my subject (Dickens aside, although I've tried with him, I really have), I have finally admitted to myself that when I go to the theatre I do NOT WANT to watch something worthy, or highbrow, or noble, or educational. What I actually want is to see people singing, dancing, high-kicking and generally jigging about in an ebullient manner, preferably with moments where I can myself sing along, just quietly, under my breath.

I can't begin to tell you how liberating a feeling this is. No more Chekhov on a wet Wednesday night; no more "interesting" interpretations of Shakespeare's oeuvre. Instead, I am delighted to say that I will be seeing all of these merry productions in September:

First up is Rat Pack Live at The Lowry on September 7th, an evening of big band swing featuring the music of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jnr. I wrote about this a couple of months ago when I was running a competition to win tickets so I won't say too much more now, other than wishing the winners of the competition a lovely time and hoping for their sake they will not be seated next to me, for the fact that I don't actually know the words to many of these songs will NOT prevent me from attempting to sing along.

Next up is The Blues Brothers - Live, also at The Lowry Theatre, on the 20th and 21st September. The original film is one of two I remember watching with my older sister when I was about 10 (the other was The Rocky Horror Picture Show); clearly, I was too young to understand either of these wasted masterpieces, but gamely pretended to know what was going on and laughed at all the bits my sister laughed at (although a beat too late to be entirely convincing, obviously). Anyway, it's 30 years since the death of John Belushi, so it's fitting that this production - the only officially licensed production of the Blues Brothers outside of America, and presented in association with both Judith Belushi and Dan Aykroyd - should hit Manchester. This particular show, a Hartshorn – Hook Production, won rave reviews at the Edinburgh Festival in 2009 and looks GOOD - I might even stand on my seat for this one*.

*Note to anyone reading this from The Lowry: I promise I will NOT stand on my seat at any point during this production.

And finally, just when my show-girl heart was fit to burst anyway, An Evening of Burlesque is coming to Manchester's Palace Theatre on Friday 21st September. Now, I'm pretty much of a newcomer to all this burlesque business (I'm fairly sure that having sat through the Cher movie of the same name and occasionally high-kicking into the kitchen to put the kettle on does not qualify one as an expert in this field), but I DID go to the Moulin Rouge earlier this month and am looking forward to seeing the UK's first (and only) touring burlesque show in the, erm, flesh, as it were. The producers promise "it’s all tease, no sleaze" *watches Mr Liz's face fall* and that there will be corsets, killer heels and stockings aplenty *watches Mr Liz brighten up again* as some of the world's most famous burlesque stars take to the stage (and me, from the comfort of my seat).

Of course, this new-found liberation won't last - I'll just make sure I enjoy it while it lasts...*goes off, can-canning just a little*

Further information on all productions can be found on The Lowry and The Palace websites.

Competition Time: Win a Pair of Tickets for Rat Pack Live at The Lowry, Salford in September 2012

One of the very nicest things about getting older is that you're allowed to like whatever music you want, without fear of recrimination. This is particularly true if you spend your daylight hours in the company of people in their late teens, who are uniformly so amazed that you can walk and talk under your own steam that they are in danger of passing out altogether should they discover that you shop at TopShop and have a passing familiarity with what I believe is known in modern youth vernacular as the Hit Parade. Even better, as in their heads you are approximately 115 years old they gape in sheer astonishment as you admire their Joy Division or Blondie t-shirt, or comment sadly on your inability to get hold of Stone Roses tickets.

However, whilst it's wholly acceptable (and indeed admirable) to cling fondly to the songs from your 80s and 90s teenage years, it is also entirely permissable to mock your long-suffering husband for listening to Old FM in the car. I have long since enjoyed this pursuit, soundly haranguing poor Mr Liz for his love of what can only be described as "music off of black and white" - until recently, that is. I have gradually come round to his love of Frank Sinatra (particularly the big New York, New York type numbers, which lend themselves so splendidly to singing along at the top of one's voice in the confines of a car, much to the delight of the person unlucky enough to be driving at the time) and Dean Martin, whose Volare simply DEMANDS to be belted out in an authentically sultry Italian style.

So it is with little reluctance that I am accompanying an excited Mr Liz to see Rat Pack Live at The Lowry on Friday 7th September - a brand new show featuring the music of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr which brings the stars from the West End hit Rat Pack Live from Las Vegas to the altogether more glamorous surroundings of Rat Pack Live from, erm, Salford. You can find out more about the show here, on The Lowry website, but - even more excitingly - you can win a pair of tickets to see the show HERE. Over to the experts...

Things to do in Manchester has teamed up with the producers of the Rat Pack Live concert show to give a lucky reader the chance of winning a pair of tickets to see the spectacular production at the Lowry Theatre, Salford on Friday 7th September 2012 at 7.30pm.

It's the ultimate tribute to legendary Fifties and Sixties phenomenon the Rat Pack – Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jnr. They were the definition of cool during their Fifties and Sixties Vegas heyday – just ask Mr Liz. Combining the full sound of big band swing with charisma, panache and swagger, the trio – collectively known as The Rat Pack – had attitude to spare.

Join the UK’s original Rat Pack concert show, featuring stars of the West End smash hit Rat Pack Live from Las Vegas:

Following his triumphant portrayal of Dean Martin in London’s West End, Mark Halliday went on to tour the USA, Europe and the UK with the famous production. Other credits include two years in the States creating the role of Hades in Disney’s new musical Hercules plus lead appearances in runaway touring hit shows Girls Night Out and Aspects of Love.

The evening’s Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jnr boast similarly impressive credentials including, respectively:
· Starring roles with the BBC Concert Orchestra, Passadena Roof Orchestra and Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Orchestra plus appearances with the likes of Sandie Shaw, Sophie Ellis Bextor and Mica Paris
· National tours portraying Sammy Davis Jnr with the West End Rat Pack and Nat King Cole in Strictly Swing.

Together the talented trio combine superbly. . .spectacularly. . . swingsationally in The Rat Pack Live. Featuring all the patter and razzamatazz of the Rat Pack’s infamous live stage show, join the UK’s number one Frank, Dean and Sammy live concert extravaganza. Prepare to experience the definition of cool…courtesy of www.easytheatres.com.

To win tickets please answer this simple question: The Rat Pack Live features tributes to Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jnr and which other famous Fifties and Sixties crooner? The first entry drawn will win a pair of tickets to the show.

Send your answer by email to manchestercomps@hotmail.co.uk with your name, address, email address and daytime phone number before the closing date of midnight on Sunday 1st July 2012. First prize will go to the first entry randomly drawn on this date. There is no cash alternative. Usual rules apply and my decision is final (I LOVE saying this).

To buy tickets contact The Lowry Box office via their website or by calling 0843 208 6000 between 9.30am and 8pm Monday to Saturday or 11am and 6pm on Sundays.

Good luck...and I'll leave you with this publicity shot of the cast, winningly entitled "New rats" - I'm off to practise my a-swinging and a-crooning.

Opera North's Carousel Comes to The Lowry: Local Girl's Lack of Talent Cruelly Revealed

Now, as previously noted, I am a woman of many talents - in my head, at least. I can't count the number of times I've moved an attentive audience (the cat, bribed to stay with liberal promises of Dreamies) to tears with beautiful renditions of various modern classics that are surely wasted in the confines of my own kitchen. And sometimes, I dance and pirouette my way across the floor towards the beer fridge with the natural grace and poise of an exceptionally talented gazelle.

Of course, it only takes a visit to The Lowry to see anything by Opera North to remind you what real (as opposed to delusional) talent actually looks like. This remarkable Leeds-based company have previously won a reluctant Mr Liz over to opera through their sultry, steamy Carmen, and come pretty close to converting me to Gilbert & Sullivan via their spirited Ruddigore; this week, it's the turn of Carousel, a Rodgers and Hammerstein classic that I had - inexplicably - never seen, not even the film version. And I have to admit that, reading the programme notes beforehand, the whole thing sounded pretty bizarre.

Obviously though, being Opera North, it was superlative in pretty much every way. The story is as follows: young man (the splendidly named Billy Bigelow) puts his arm round young girl (Julie Jordan - only people with alliterative names are allowed to go out with each other in THIS world) on the carousel; both are fired from their jobs as a result. Meanwhile, Julie's friend Carrie is engaged to be married to a Mr Enoch Snow - he owns a fishing boat and is therefore, ahem, quite a catch *smirks at own wit*. Julie is not proving so lucky in her relationship: Billy misses the female attention he used to get on the carousel and has a hankering to go back - until Julie gives him some news that forces him to rethink how he can best fulfil his responsibilities to his wife.

I'll say no more of the plot, just in case you've never seen it, but suffice to say that the second half includes a clam bake (why have I never had one of these? why?), a trip to heaven and a mid-section entitled simply "Ballet" - and it still works. This is partly because the songs are great - I know my work colleagues certainly enjoyed the selection of "Songs from the Shows" I performed for them the following day - and include the infuriatingly catchy June is Bustin' Out All Over and a fairly well-known ditty called You'll Never Walk Alone ("typical Scousers," commented Mr Liz, controversially, "they nick EVERYTHING"*). The whole cast was as pitch-perfect as you'd expect, with standout performances from Joseph Shovelton as Enoch and Claire Boulter as Carrie.

*I take NO responsibility for this remark, or any other made by errant gentlemen with whom I am connected.

The staging was beautiful, with notable scenes including the opening number on the carousel, the scenes set in heaven, and the ballet of the second half. A key scene just after the interval perhaps lacks the required violence that would make it truly convincing, but the packed house was certainly most appreciative of the whole thing, and it speaks volumes about Opera North's peerless reputation that they can pretty much fill such a large venue on a Wednesday night.

And me? Well, I've discovered where my true talents lie: sitting outside Lime, drinking Prosecco and eating olives, and then checking my watch and having to SPRINT across the square two minutes before the performance starts. It's nice to know that we're ALL good at something...

- Carousel is on at The Lowry until Saturday 26th May and then spins away to prepare for its residency at London's Barbican Theatre in August and September - for full details visit the Opera North website.

Girl Talk at The Lowry, July 2nd 2011 - Sparkle at the Ready

Once upon a time, when I was a thin, sulky teenager with a penchant for lurking in my bedroom imagining myself as Heathcliff's very own Catherine, I had exceptionally cool taste in music. I still have my vinyl collection (although for at least ten years I've had nothing to play it on) and it is FLAWLESS, a result of trawling second-hand record fairs and pouring endlessly over NME and Melody Maker, trying desperately to read through my ludicrously long fringe. All of humanity is there - the Joy Division Peel Sessions, everything and anything from the seventies by Bowie or Ferry, obscure bootleg recordings by the Smiths and New Order...there is NOTHING here that requires any kind of shame, or covert disowning.

My CD collection, however, is another matter entirely. Some of these are so embarrassingly bad that they have had to be removed from the rack and hidden under the bed; I certainly cannot name them here for fear of people pointing and laughing at me in the street. The others remain, proudly displaying their (and my) lack of musical credibility - one of the many advantages of getting older is that you simply don't care any more, and any slightly shame-faced admittance of a vague respect for, say, Barry Manilow, is often met with relieved nods of recognition. Thus I was delighted to hear of the Girl Talk: I am Woman event at The Lowry next Saturday 2nd July, when three lovely ladies promise to sing a repertoire of cheesy loveliness - who could possibly resist "a diverse range of material from Bacharach to the B52s, Rodgers and Hammerstein to Dolly Parton"? Not I, particularly as I will have had at least one very large glass of wine at Lime beforehand - I have already begun warming up my vocal chords for the audience harmonies that are positively encouraged.

The three ladies in question are Mari Wilson, Barb Jungr and Gwyneth Herbert, accompanied by (the presumably long-suffering) Adrian York on piano. Barb is a local girl, brought up in Stockport, Gwyneth is the "Princess of Cool", and Mari Wilson is - well - Mari Wilson. Respected goddess of song she may well be, but she will forever live in my heart as one of my earliest Top of the Pops memories, performing Just What I Always Wanted with an immense hairdo, the sort that you suspected could house an entire aviary of small birds. I've just watched it again on YouTube and see that she is also sporting a pair of wings that I must have overlooked in my open-mouthed admiration of her hair; AND John Peel is presenting *wipes away nostalgic tear*

Anyway, I'm off to try to source a floor-length gold lame dress for next Saturday; if you fancy doing the same, tickets can be snaffled for just £17.50 a head (with concessions for seniors, students and unwaged, so you can take gran) by telephoning The Lowry on 0843 208 6000, or online at www.thelowry.com/event/girl-talk-i-am-woman
- I'll be the one orchestrating the mass sway to Dolly Parton.

Wilde About Food? Yes!

Some things go so beautifully together that they make you wonder why more people don't combine them more often. July, for example, sees the thrilling juxtaposition of the words "cheese" and "festival" (and the implied words "actually quite near where I live"), but I'll save that for another blog. Today I have my eye firmly on another very enticing combination of things to which I am partial - theatre and afternoon tea. Genius.

The event in question is Rocket Theatre's Wilde About Food, part of this July's Not Part Of Festival and equipped with its own irresistible strapline: "serving up classic theatre with lavish dining". The idea is as follows: choose whether you would like to be entertained over dinner or afternoon tea, book your tickets, go along to the Palace Hotel, and eat your own bodyweight whilst obliging actors perform Oscar Wilde's Lord Arthur Savile's Crime. Whilst not one of Wilde's best-known plays (you will not, for example, get to utter "a hannnnderbag" in your most distainful tones at any point during the proceedings), this is a corking play, telling the story of Lord Arthur and his trusty valet Middlewick and performed, on this occasion, as a two-man play by Martin Harris and Dan Willis.

Rather than sitting in rows and facing a conventional stage, festival-goers will sit around tables (hopefully ones with wine on them) as Lord Arthur and Middlewick roam freely; one can only hope that a bit of audience participation is not required just as one has surreptitiously popped an entire scone into one's mouth. The afternoon performances include the serving of sandwiches, scones and cakes, and the evening shows promise a three course dinner. As someone who is always caught and humiliated trying to smuggle the remnants of my gin and tonic into the second half of pretty much any performance, I can only applaud this enterprising combination of eating and culture; try not to guffaw with a mouthful of cupcake though, as I imagine that being showered with crumbs at a crucial moment is not something these brave actors would welcome.

Tickets must be booked in advance, and there are performances the first 3 weekends in July:

Saturday 9, 16 July (7.15pm) – with 3 course dinner (£33)

Sunday 3, 10 July (2.45pm) – with afternoon tea (£22)

Tickets are available from Quay Tickets: 0843 208 0500 or online at www.quaytickets.com - I suggest you book immediately as culture fixes really don't come ANY more conveniently-packaged than this.

Mind the Gap Bring Of Mice and Men to Contact, Manchester

Truth be told, I sat my GCSE exams longer ago than I care to admit; indeed, my current students look at me with a mixture of pity and disbelief when they demand to know how many A* grades I got, only to be told that they didn't even exist in my day (obviously, if they had, I would have got loads, several hundred probably.)

Still, it doesn't really seem to matter how many years ago you sat your English Literature GCSE - the texts appear to have not changed in the slightest. I did Pygmalion, To Kill a Mockingbird, Macbeth and An Inspector Calls, amongst other texts, although I did consider myself a pretty original and forward-thinking teen when I selected The Catcher in the Rye as my choice of text for my independent coursework; if only I had known then how my teachers were probably rolling their eyes behind my back, thinking "just smile and nod, and let her think that no other teenager in the history of the world has ever discovered this book."

The one text I didn't do at GCSE that seems to have become more or less compulsory these days is John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men. I suspect it has become ubiquitous largely due to its short, student-friendly length, the fact that it allows teachers to ramble knowledgeably about The American Dream, and - let's face it - it's a pretty good story. George and Lenny are farmworkers in 1930s America, forced to travel the country in search of work and therefore never able to put down any permanent roots. Their dream is to have their own little piece of land, where they can live and work; in the meantime, all they have is each other. George is sharp, always looking out for Lennie, who doesn't always understand his own strength, or what constitutes appropriate behaviour. I won't spoil the ending, but it may be a good idea to have a tissue or two handy.

Now the stage version of this ever-popular tale is coming to Manchester's Contact Theatre. Mike Kenny's adaptation will premiere here between 16th and 19th February 2011 before touring the country, and as the theatre company behind the production is Mind the Gap, it promises to be well worth a look. For the uninitiated, Mind the Gap is the leading theatre company in the UK working with learning disabled actors; remarkably, the production is the first stage adaptation to feature an actor with learning disabilities in the role of Lennie. The play has run three times before to consistently positive reviews, so do your best to catch it before it moves on.

Tickets and further details are available from the Contact website, and you can read more about Mind the Gap at their own site. Tickets are very reasonably priced at £12 (£7 concessions). Just one word of warning: last time I went to see a "set text" - Othello - at the theatre, the place was FULL of students. Rather horrifically, some of them were mine. And whilst their behaviour was without fault, it does make you feel so very very old when you have to queue for your ice-cream amongst such youth.

- Contact, Oxford Road, Manchester, M15 6JA; tel 0161 274 0600.

Review of Joseph (and his AMAZING Technicolour Dreamcoat, of course) at The Lowry, Manchester

Every so often, it pays to leave your good taste at home and, ignoring the scoffing and taunting of ignorant, blinkered friends, have a quite amazing night out. It is at this point that I should hold my hands up and admit that I like Andrew Lloyd Webber. I like his coy over-acting with Graham Norton. I like the ill-disguised pain etched all over his face when the camera switches to him during some caterwauling performance. I even like his throne. True, the sight of the Dark Lord clutching a pair of no-longer-needed sparkly stiletto shoes to his chest week on week during Over The Rainbow was a step too far, but all in all, I have a lot of time for him and his jaunty musicals; not least, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor (a registered trademark, apparently) Dreamcoat, currently showing at The Lowry.

Last time I saw this I think I was about ten, when I went on a school trip that I remember little about other than having an ice-cream at half time, and having to sit next to a horrid mean girl who I didn't like. So I had completely forgotten that not only is Joseph a musical, it is ALL MUSICAL - no pesky talky bits at all, just good, honest, over-enunciated singing. My traitorous friend, it turned out, had been secretly rehearsing for weeks with the aid of a Joseph soundtrack CD played on repeat in her car, and was therefore ready to sing along with everything, whereas it emerged that I only really knew the chorus of most songs, thus limiting me somewhat; for example "go go go Joseph, um, tra la la la la..."

No matter. We were sat right at the front, practically straddling the man with the electric piano (who sensibly had enormous headphones on, presumably to block out the unpleasantness of audience sing-along) and in serious danger of being blinded by Craig Chalmers' unfeasibly white teeth. He came fifth in the Any Dream Will Do show, and there is rather a whiff of cheese about him, with his orange glow and a thatch of yellow hair that would do nicely for a whole row of country cottages in need of a roof. Still, apart from the slow songs, which came across rather nasal, he did a decent enough job, although his Scottish accent did rather throw the aforementioned friend - her CD was mostly delivered in Australian, on account of it being the Jason Donovan version (serves her right).

The show itself? Just perfect - beautifully choreographed and performed (particularly by the eleven men playing Joseph's brothers), and with lovely aah-aah-aahs on Any Dream Will Do courtesy of a fleet of cute children from a school in Chester. Sadly the run ends tomorrow, or I would be pestering to go again; as it is, since I got home from the show last night I have communicated with my increasingly annoyed husband and cat entirely through the medium of song.

- The Lowry can be contacted on 0843 208 6000, or via their website at www.thelowry.com.

Dirk Benedict Sets Middle-Aged Pulses Racing in Columbo at The Lowry

First things first: despite growing up in the 80s - and once owning a version of every single outfit sported by Alex Drake on Ashes to Ashes - certain aspects of my upbringing appear to have been deficient. I have never watched The A-Team, and I have never seen Columbo, and thus did not share the whoops (yes, actual whoops) of enthusiasm emitted by some of my friends upon learning that Dirk Benedict was to star as Lieutenant Columbo at The Lowry in the current production of Prescription Murder.

Clearly though, many others shared their excitement, as last night's performance was absolutely packed. The story of Prescription Murder - Columbo's first ever case - scarcely matters; suffice to say that you see the murder being committed in scene two, and must then watch as Columbo shuffles and smokes his way to solving the case. The premise of the character seems simple - he looks a mess! he smokes cigars in a louche manner! his hair is wild and his voice gravelly...yet he's SMART! Certainly too smart for the oily psychiatrist who has bumped his own wife off.

And to be fair to Dirk Benedict, he does a good job with this. Having never seen the original I cannot vouch for authenticity, but he certainly exudes charm and cunning in spades. Perhaps most interesting is his effect upon women (and men) of a certain age - my friend confessed to him having been her favourite 80s crush, and was almost overcome by the position of our seats in the second row, barely resisting the urge to reach out and give him a quick stroke from time to time. The man in front of us was even more taken with Dirk, his enthusiasm so palpable that the great man rewarded him with a special wink at curtain call. One point to note though: don't be fooled by the publicity photo accompanying the play, which a cynic may say was perhaps taken in a different decade (or century) entirely.

The supporting cast do their best to shine in the presence of such stardom, and do a pretty good job (one or two slightly ropey American accents aside). And to save you the frustration of trying to work out who is playing the unfortunate wife, it's Susannah Farnham of Max & Susannah Brookside fame; clearly born to play ill-fated wives throughout her acting career (one day she'll live; one day....)

The play is quite long at around two and a half hours including interval, but passes in a flash and requires absolutely no brain power. Staging is slick and effective, and contributes to a seamlessly entertaining package which has allowed me to tick off two boxes on my "to-do" list: Dirk Benedict? Check. Columbo? Check. But if my ticket-happy friends are reading, I just want to make it clear that I'm drawing the line at the A-Team film.

- Prescription Murder is on at The Lowry until Sat 12th June; visit www.thelowry.com forr more details.

The Canterbury Tales at The Lowry Theatre, Manchester

Without a shadow of a doubt, the absolutely best thing about Chaucer is that his most famous poem, The Canterbury Tales, is a piece of literature whose credentials are beyond impeachment; an unshakeable fixture in the English canon, to remain forever on the A-level syllabus; and yet is almost entirely about sex and farting. Undergraduates across the land have been discovering this joyous and generally unsuspected fact for years now, marching smugly to a class on Middle English with their Riverside Chaucer tucked innocently under one arm, looking for all the world like an intellectual - and yet actually off to while away a pleasant hour or so discussing sexual partners and bodily functions.

So imagine my delight that Northern Broadsides - a fine theatrical company whose productions are always worth seeing - have brought their own version of The-Rudest-Poem-In-The-World-Disguised-As-Classic-Literature to The Lowry Theatre. This new adaptation by Mike Poulton has received rave reviews in London since it was first performed in February, and yet actually sticks very closely to the original text. Obviously Poulton has been careful to select the very rudest tales to include in his new production, but almost all of the language is Chaucer's own, with very little modernisation, although I'm not sure the inclusion of "I Can't Get No Satisfaction" featured prominently in the original text. When performed aloud the Middle English from over 600 years ago sounds surprisingly fresh and modern; I will gloss over the chilling fact that during the enunciation of the famous prologue, about the pilgrims setting off on their travels, someone in the row behind me did mutter (none too quietly) "Dear God, what is he on about? I really can't sit through three hours of this."

The friend who went with me was a Chaucer virgin, and although I did try to warn her about the filth that would surely follow she was still both shocked and impressed in equal measures by the combination of tender tales of love, honour and chivalry, and bawdy stories of cuckolded husbands, bare bottoms hanging out of windows and merry swiving in pear trees. The production is quite long at three hours including interval, but it passes in a flash, and the quality of staging, acting, music and singing is excellent across the board. The play runs until this Saturday, 22nd May and is well worth catching if you can - where else can you enjoy such base pleasures and still call it culture?

- full details at http://www.thelowry.com/event/canterbury-tales-may-10, or call the box office on 0843 208 6000.