Without warning, Tomas Alfredson jumps up and starts wading about the room like a water bird treading over lily pads.
One surefire sign of maturity is the acceptance that you have friends who are more talented than you are.
One of the few professional stand-up comics I’ve met who wasn’t bitter, twisted, malign, graceless, grumpy, chippy, egomaniacal and slightly to the left of Stalin is Mark Billingham.
Regime change at Hampstead Theatre. The era of special measures is over and Ed Hall, son of Sir Peter, has taken charge. Hall’s debut show is daring in its complete lack of audacity.
On the southern edge of Manchester, a few miles from the airport, there is a commuter town where the Victorian novel remains very much alive.
Promised EndLinbury Studio, in rep until 16 NovemberRadamistoEnglish National Opera, in rep until 4 November‘There is perhaps no play which keeps the attention so strongly fixed; which so much agitates our passions and interests our curiosity.
In the first retrospective of his work for nearly 40 years, Peter Lanyon (1918–64) is given the kind of recognition long his due.
Who’s my favourite stage actress? Since you ask, Olivia Williams in Shakespeare and Nancy Carroll in anything.
From the start, the combatively worded motion — ‘Time for the arts to stand on its own two feet and stop sponging off the tax-payer’ — came under attack in the Spectator arts debate at Church House last month.
Really? This was necessary? Why? What’s the point? OK, I suppose revisiting Wall Street all these years later is timely, given the banking crisis and resultant global meltdown.
As regular readers of this column will know, I am not an admirer of large exhibitions.