Heroes

It’s ages since I last went to the theatre, and that would have almost certainly been a freebie from my friend Simon who works for a theatre marketing company.
Yesterday, I read an interview with Richard Griffith in The Observer. He’s in a new play called Heroes, a translation by Tom Stoppard of a French play originally called The Wind in the Poplars by Gerald Sibleyras. So being nearby at lunchtime I went in and bought a ticket, thinking that they might be cheap while this production is in preview. They aren’t.
But don’t let the ticket prices put you off, as this is a wonderful play. It’s funny that it’s on at the Wyndhams Theatre, home until relatively recently of another three piece, Art. The three players this time are three ex-WWI servicemen in a retirement home played by Ken Stott, Richard Griffith and John Hurt. There, they live a life full of nothing as they each have their own neuroses – real or imagined – to battle with. Slowly, they put together a plan to escape their presumed misery.
To say much more would be a shame, but given the calibre of the man who translated the work, expect some sparkling dialogue. Oh, and there’s also a dog.
Incidentally, should you want to save yourself a few pennies when you see this play, you might consider reading this article published in today’s Telegraph, an extract of which makes up the bulk of the programme. Now I know that theatre programmes are never exactly value for money, but just reprinting a newspaper interview is a little poor.
On my way home, I had the delightful pleasure to share a train carriage, for a short distance, with someone who’d make Waynetta Slob look like someone you’d want to take home to meet your mum. Now Richard Griffith is a big fellow. A very big fellow. She was bigger. Now I’m not being sizeist, but when a fellow passenger asked to sit down where she had her bag, she gave him a dirty look and let him know that a friend was getting on at the next stop. He ignored this and sat down.
I got off at the next stop, but I saw her colleague get on and feared for the life of the chap who was sitting with them in the four-seat grouping. There simply wasn’t going to be room for all three of them. Incidentally the two larger people both worked for the rail company. Obviously the company in question doesn’t have a corporate gym membership.