Murders, Wars, and...Nuns?

July 24-27, 2007

What a week! I've been all across London these last few days, concentrating specifically on the South Bank (the location of the Globe Theatre, for all you Shakespeare nuts). The Royal National Theatre sits ponderously on the bank next to Westminster Bridge, and I ended up there twice. The Olivier Theatre, where I had seen Tennessee Williams' The Rose Tattoo, had been cleared out for the next production, that of George Bernard Shaw's Saint Joan. The performance was quite possibly one of the greatest theatrical pieces I have ever seen because the spectacle was so perfect. The story followed Joan of Arc as she received revelations, rallied France to her at the end of the Hundred Years' War, and was eventually persecuted, imprisoned, and burned at the stake. The acting was by and large good, with a rather eccentric Joan and a very poor actor acting as the page, or "Egg Boy," as we all called him. It was the set, however, that set it apart. The revolving stage was used again, though in a much more ethereal manner--dead trees loomed in the foggy background, candles glinting from the base of each, and a single, distressed-wood platform stood in the center of the stage. Haunting music filled the air during key scenes, and the battle scene was absolutely flawless--music rising, stage revolving, actors fighting not with swords but with a choreographed chair dance. The best part was when the entire platform raised vertically into the air and the people climbed up it, symbolizing the scaling of the walls at Orleans. It was wonderful! Her persecution scene was difficult to take, but the burning was very artistic--the same chairs that had acted as instruments for fighting had been stacked up in front of a small scaffold, and smoke rose from underneath her until she was enveloped. All we could see as she died was her small, white-clad form falling backward into a sea of black-clad actors before being swallowed up in darkness. It was absolutely perfect!

We ended up taking a tour of the National the next day, going behind the scenes and looking at the workshops. The National has three theatres within it--the amphitheater Olivier, proscenium Lyttleton, and studio Cottsletoe. It's one of the largest theatres in the world, truly, and all its workshops are housed right there in the building. It was amazing!

I also saw the Imperial War Museum, about a twenty-minute walk from the National. It was a tough afternoon. The museum is excellent and is filled with old war machines, uniforms, artillery, film footage, everything. We wandered through WWI and WWII before participating in the interactive Tunnel Experience and Blitz Experience, which presented life in the trenches of WWI and in a house during the Blitz air raid. They were mediocre activities, though the creators had clearly been trying--it was overkill, though. The most amazing part of the museum, and by far the most devastating, was the Holocaust experience. Children under twelve are not allowed in there because it's so hard, and I've never been so angry in my life. I wanted to bring Hitler and his demon followers back from the dead just so I could beat them up! I had to leave the area because I was shaking so hard. It documents everything and has personal accounts of all the activities, even presenting a case full of victims' shoes and personal belongings that had been taken from them just before they were sent to the gas chambers. They also had a dissection table, where they performed experiments on the mentally retarded. Such innocents, forced to suffer such pain! I'm getting angry just thinking about it. I'll move on, now.

I also saw the Victorian thriller Gaslight, starring Rosamund Pike (Die Another Day, Pride and Prejudice). I got a 12-pound front row seat because I was under 25, and it was wonderful! I was three feet away from the entire performance! It followed the story of Mrs. Manningham (Pike), who thought she was going mad because things kept going missing and the gaslights kept flickering. Her husband threatened to send her to the madhouse if she didn't change. He had just left for the evening when Detective Rough enters the room, quite the stranger, and says he's been watching the house for quite awhile. Seems a murder had occurred here over twenty years ago, in this very house, and the killer was never caught--the man had been looking for some famous rubies. Rough said that killers always return to the scene of the crime, and that's just what was happening. Mr. Manningham had killed the old lady twenty years ago and was back to find the rubies! He was trying to push his wife into madness so he could lock her up and take his sweet time finding the rubies. I won't tell you how they stop him, but I loved Rough, and Rosamund Pike was absolutely exquisite! After the performance we waited by the stage door, and I got her autograph and a picture with her! Snap!

On yet another note, I had tea with the nuns of the Maria Assumpta Centre today. We sat in a sun room by the garden and sipped tea and ate homemade crumbly cake, and they were all hard of hearing and teased each other incessantly. Sister Muriel is particularly witty--she's the resident gardener, and she keeps coming in with dirt all over her feet. We bought her flowery wellies as a going-away present, and I can't wait to see her wear them! I hope I'm like her when I'm older, because she's so jolly and exciting and full of life. She doesn't take nonsense from anybody, but she sure dishes out enough of it!