Saw "In the Red and Brown Water" by Tarell Alvin McCraney at the Young Vic tonight. It was an interesting and really ambitious piece, but somehow never really came together. The most dramatic thing about the production was the stage itself, which was covered in several inches of water. After some time to reflect, I think I have a sense of what was going on with that, insofar as the director was clearly going for a dream-like mood (the play itself traded heavily in archetypes) and the water both slowed down the actors' movements and reflected the lighting quite beautifully, but it was such a prominent and unusual feature of the production design that it distracted from everything else going on. Which was maybe just as well: the plot sort of went to pot in the second act, so-and-so is gay, somebody else wants a baby, there's a voodoo priestess, etc. etc. Like I said, ambitious. The actors also narrated their own movements in the third person to the audience, e.g. "she smiles, sadly," which I found incredibly distracting and really quite detrimental to connecting with any of the characters on an emotional level. Which left, then, a bunch of actors standing around in a very large wading pool.
Presently, I am eating a packet of Walkers "Roast Chicken flavour potato crisps." They are not nearly as good as the sweet thai chili flavor, but the back of the package informs me that they are suitable for vegetarians, suitable for coeliacs and contain no artificial colours. So that's something.
To the residents of the flats on the first-- sorry, ground-- floor: please put a shirt on and/or close your drapes.
To the girl on the elliptical in front of me at the gym this afternoon: yes, your pants are too big and yes, when they fall down everyone can see your thong. And most people don't wear underwear that fancy to work out in.
To American women of the fashionable sort: two words for you: harem pants. They are coming for you. You have been warned.
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