I Believe in Love

I didn’t know what to expect when I skipped into the West End to see Hair the musical last night. Hair is one of those unavoidable chunks of culture; you’ve heard the music (even if it’s via the Müller ads), you’ve vaguely picked up on references to the nudity and you probably know more than you think about the premise (hippies/drugs/Vietnam.) The main reason I still felt unsure, despite this psychedelic frame of reference, was that I hadn’t heard any standout songs and the synopsis itself didn’t draw me in hugely. But the iconic nature of the original late 60s production, the hit songs it produced and the buzz this year as the new Broadway revival was brought to London all made me curious about the show. I don’t particularly adore the music that I do know, but I had heard that it was such an infectiously uplifting night out that many friends were going back for more. So last night, just a few weeks before its schedule closure in September, I finally went to find out what all the fuss was about.

My verdict? It was great, but it wasn’t incredible. The music and the story didn’t blow my mind, but the vibrant vocals, colour and energy did. Audience participation is something I’m usually horrified by (my reserved Britishness finds it cringeworthy and my love of storytelling jars with the breaking of the fourth wall) but the rambly chattiness of the charismatic stoners and the weaving of the cast in and out of the audience, stroking hair and giving out flyers, was utterly charming. I would like to be able to say that this would also have been true of a British production, but I do feel the full-on Americana of the cast is what made it the solid, confident and slick spectacle it is. The quality of each singer just launches it into a different league to the rest of the West End.

The part I found baffling in such a hit was how hard it was to follow; I’m pretty clued up on the Vietnam war period, but the speed of the lyrics and the lack of diction (perhaps a conscious decision, but it didn’t work for me) meant I spent much of the first few character ‘snippets’ feeling completely lost, if very entertained. I hadn’t appreciated how much it had clearly influenced Rent, one of my favourite musicals, with its scenes of anarchic camaraderie, shock factor and loveable characters. But the tribe, whilst charismatic as a dancing, chanting, belting whole, did not have as much individual appeal as the bohemians of Rent. Caissie Levy really stood out for me with her honeyed vocals and subtlety of performance, but the limitless riffs of Aquarius soloist Dionne and the soaring optimism of leading man Gavin Creel also took my breath away. The group songs are the lifeblood of the show and the ensemble, most of whom have been together since the beginning of the Broadway revival last year, create a gloriously unified sound.

By the end I was certainly feeling the Love, the twin ideas of Peace and Love being a central part of the show. The air was fragrant with incense, the set lit with rainbow colours, the cast (on a bog-standard Tuesday night performance) seemed fresh as a daisy and high on life. I wasn’t as moved as I thought I’d be by the Vietnam war theme, perhaps due to the surreal ‘bad trip’ sequence that once again entertained and baffled me at the same time. This baffletainment sort of manages to work though, and there are quite a few laugh-out-loud moments. Most of all you just want to be part of the gang, and even as someone who loves a power shower and loathes tie-dye, I had never found hippie life so seductively portrayed. For something less gripping than Wicked and less moving than Les Miserables, however, it is a shame that there is no option for cheap tickets. For £29.50 though, you can get into the Dress Circle, which we soon realised was prime hippie-partying ground. I didn’t have anyone dance along the back of my seat, but a tribe member did take a sip of my coke. So if you’re wandering the cloudy streets of London in the next couple of weeks and feel a bit bleak about life, I suggest you Let the Sun Shine In and bask in the transcendental aural trip that is the cast of Hair.

B is for Britain

We all seem to have a daily rant here in Britain about the rubbishness of the weather, the transport, the politicians and the chavs, but I have to say I bloody love this country. Not in an English-flag brandishing, football-loutish or snobbishly imperialistic way, but in that I'm happy being here most of the time. I don't share the now-fashionable obsession with emigrating to sunnier climes (although it's amazing to get away and I would love to live abroad temporarily) but I do have what is better described as an overwhelming fondness than a fierce patriotism for this sceptred isle.

It's easy to forget the fundamental joys of living in a developed Western country, but of course they are many - freedom of speech, equality, democracy and an uncorrupt justice system. But it's the littler things, those you miss at the end of a holiday, that warm my heart on a regular basis. The politeness - I have been told by more than one non-Brit than our pleases and thank yous are excessively and unnecessarily used, but I appreciate every little piece of verbal etiquette that comes my way. Yes, we apologise when someone else bustles into us, and often to entirely inanimate objects, but it's a compulsion that makes us loveable. I love the amount of satire in our press and on TV, especially the topical panel shows such as Have I Got News For You where no-one and nothing is too sacred for examination. I enjoy our eccentrics (even the Royal Family for their entertainment value) and traditions, and personally think we have a pleasant balance of conservative and liberal minds. I enjoy a cup of tea on a drizzly day while snuggled inside on a sofa. Sunshine puts me in a great mood, but 365 days of roasting heat a year leaves no room for seasonal contrast or variety, from your wardrobe to your leisure activities. Can you imagine being without the glorious novelty of a beer garden in summer, or a snowball fight in winter? We appreciate jetting off somewhere warm so much more for having such an unpredictable climate here. I love the smalltalk, the wit, the humour and the diversely styled fashionistas. I enjoy our straight-talking celebs more with every bland Hollywood soundbite from a US star, and the irreverence of our entertainment TV and awards shows. The history and culture of London is far superior to so many tourist destinations, we just find it hard to see that when we're so close to the action.

From our offbeat advertising to our disloyalty to political parties (the 'Ok, show me what you've got' approach to this year's election was truly impressive) and our ability to laugh at our own failings, from teen mums to snobbery, is what makes Britain unique. In some ways - mostly financial - we could be described as Broken, but in essentials we are flourishing. I like that a grown man can be reduced to tears by the kick of a ball and someone convinced they are Yoda or Jesus can get on their soapbox at Speaker's Corner without being moved on. In the next 24 hours I will definitely complain about the weather, become enraged by fellow commuters and needlessly mock a public figure, but deep down I'm happy that by random chance and good luck, I happen to live here.

When Derrick Bird shot twelve people on a seemingly motiveless killing spree in Cumbria yesterday, the reports were not met with sad resignation as a sign of the times. There were and are ripples of outrage, numbed shock and furious questioning in every paper, on every website and around every watercooler in the country. Do we ever stop and appreciate that such large-scale and tragic violence is a distinct rarity here? Sometimes it's hard to remember amongst the tax moans and the MP gags, but from high school shootings to Taliban-esque restrictions, terror and violence is part of the everyday for so many people around the world. That's not to say it is any less tragic that twelve innocents have been killed by one selfish man determined to punish the world for his misfortunes; simply that we should look around us once in a while and reconsider our disdain for this little piece of earth.

Thin Skin

I came across this piece today about Mariella Frostrup's apology to the editors of Radio 4's Today programme for calling them misogynists. Another hot-headed woman, I thought briefly and unconsciously, before looking into the story behind her accusation (like you've never fleetingly cursed 'Bloody woman driver', girls!) Turns out Today editor Ceri Thomas had hinted in an interview that the reason there weren't more female presenters in his line of work is simply that men have the thicker skin and therefore the employable edge to deal with the pressures of the job. What he said was this, essentially that women should have a place on the BBC but probably not on the Today programme, as it's really scary and tough and they might cry. Now, I can see how this was very tactless, especially as he works in the media, but perhaps the exceptional thickness of his very manly skin has numbed any sensitivity to such matters.

Here's a surprise though: I agree with him a bit. Not with the 'all women', but with the 'why not as many women appear on confrontational current affairs shows' bit. I'm a woman, and as a very tiny percentage of the population (and a small percentage of the media-career-inclined) I can tell you with no hesitation that I'd be too fragile and emotional for that kind of full-on daily environment. Most women I know are not ambitious enough, or conversely they're smart enough, to avoid any job where they may end up in rehab, heart-attack territory or simply hiding in the toilets in tears. That isn't necessarily to say we have thinner skin, although I secretly agree with that too - of which more later.

Jennie Bond, who apart from the curious 'ie' choice of name spelling has the hardy air of an ex-Olympian about her anyway, dismissed Thomas's comments as "complete bollocks" (interestingly gendered choice of words there) and quite correctly stated:

"I reported extensively for the Today programme and presented it for three years. It's tough, it's hard and it's challenging but of coursewomen can present it."

The point, I feel, is not that they physically can, but that they aren't. Most of the gals are going for cushy daytime sofas and entertainment reporting because it's fun, full of perks and they are less likely to be depicted as a stone-cold harridan in the media. Who wants that sort of pressure that early in the day anyway? Men, in my humble experience, seem more inclined to go for such 'challenging' (read: often unbearable) positions - they are less likely than women to weigh up home and work life, personal and professional happiness, and health and success before taking a promotion or new job.

"Women have a different way of having a thick skin," said presenting veteran Joan Bakewell when asked her views by The Guardian. Bakewell was dubbed the original 'thinking man's crumpet' after daring to be both a talented journalist and a regulation hottie (it's a bit of a sexist industry, in case you're not up to speed.)

"It's amazing how you can get your own way without being confrontational. Women are good at analysing how to tell a story. Don't you get tired of all those clashes [on the Today programme]? Look at Prime Minister's Questions. I think it's probably intolerable for any woman to watch that without hating all politicians. Women are bad at it [shouting at the dispatch box] basically because they don't like doing it, and it isn't the only way to do things, it genuinely isn't."

I quote Bakewell so heavily here because, crumpet or not, it's the sanest viewpoint I've read on the subject so far. Not wildly defensive, a la Frostrup (even when retracting her misogynists comment, she mainly conceded that the Today editors were 'not demons') and not blithely in agreement either. She simply iterates that women have a different approach that is valuably used elsewhere; I think, for example, that women make better interviewers for print. I dislike Jeremy Paxman but can appreciate his battering-ram function in the media sphere. Sometimes 'thin skin' makes for wonderfully perceptive journalism. My very first work experience placement was on the late Richard and Judy show, which I loved - live and packed with crazy segments, debate and guests of all backgrounds, the reason it worked was the combination of Madeley's rhino-skin pushiness and Finnigan's more patient and paced interview style. From this and many other media encounters, I learnt the valuable difference between trying to be a man in a man's world and using your innate femininity to get that bit more out of a situation. Would a male interviewer have boldly gone far as Caitlin Moran in her recent sensational profile of Lady Gaga, or would he have sat opposite her, barking questions and jotting down notes on the size of her thighs while half-listening to her answers?

I fear we may have become so fixated on total gender equality that the facts of our (sometimes wonderful) differences must be hushed up. Men and women are different, not in terms of either being harder, better, faster or stronger, but in having different skills and strengths. Nearly all stem logically from primal instincts (compassion, aggression, patience) and although there are always individual exceptions, look around in any workplace and you will see a lot of male focus and drive at work alongside a lot of female negotiation and diplomacy.

I am always eager to be proved wrong though, so if you are a woman who is ferociously determined to get to the front line (of journalism, management, politics, Afghanistan) please do comment with your thoughts.

PMS

Relax, the initials I refer to are that which currently dominate our airwaves, screens and thoughts - Prime Minister Seduction. Well, it's about 50/50 Election and Volcanogate at the moment, but I am belatedly feeling a surge of democratic power after catching up with the weekend's media commentary on the campaigns, and watching the groundbreaking ITV party leaders' debates online. It's a thrilling thing be able to vote, and while the last election seemingly passed by without me noticing it, this year the public really seem to be getting involved.

The 18-20s particularly strike me as more vocal than I was in their position; perhaps it's the new surge of enthusiasm for the Lib Dems which appeal to them, or just the shaken-up feel of British politics that has seemed so stale and inevitable for years. Post-Expenses scandal, MPs are more apologetic and desperate for our support than ever. A lot of the high-faluting crap has been cut out as they begin to realise how jaded and savvy the public are about the spin and gloss of their campaigns. In my very first post on this blog, I wrote about the reactions to the Obama/McCain election and expressed a sadness that British politics are so much less passionate and patriotic. I just don't think it's our style though; as a nation we're unmoved by a soundbite and unconvinced that any party will bring large-scale change (quite rightly, really). Now I am impressed that things seem to be moving forward and becoming more focused here, with campaigns edging towards more info and less PR. I've grown to like the grey area in our system - I am not loyally 'Republican' or 'Democrat' but instead entitled to see what's on the menu and order as I see fit.

The TV debates have been the epicentre of this new approach - party leaders abandoned monotone voices, lengthy policy description and generalizations in favour of dramatic pauses and angry accusations, short'n'sharp outlining of aims and bizarrely specific anecdotes. I particularly enjoyed David Cameron's description of meeting a 40 year old black man who had moved to the UK aged six and served in the navy for 30 years. In fairness, neither of his rivals jumped to correct him after a spot of mental maths I imagine a six year old immigrant could do themselves. I did like the ferocity of approach, though - points had to be made quickly, sincerely and on the spot.

General consensus is that Nick 'Who?' Clegg came out on top after months of obscurity, but I wasn't that much more impressed with him. He had the best tone, body language and used the most accessible vocabulary, but I just wasn't feeling that musty yellow tie on him. Just joking - I felt he stumbled more than the other two over his answers, cleanly avoided the negatives surrounding tackling the econonmy, and kept reverting to the Lib Dem appeal as an alternative to 'Old Politics' (Did you know the Lib Dem party, founded in 1849, has been around 40 years longer than Labour?) A fresh face, yes, and definitely the one I'd shag if I had to choose, but he hasn't got my vote yet.

Poor old Gordy is the opposite of 'fresh face'; dowdy, practical and worn down, but I would always trust a leader (headmaster, boss, bank manager) who looks like the face of experience rather than the face of Creme de la Mer. In the blue corner, Cameron is almost oddly collagen smooth, with a sneery manner and just a hint of sleaze behind the good suit and family man image. If you're pro gay rights and equality, do make sure you watch the footage of his interview with Pink News, where he not only faltered over his policies and values but had the unmistakable glint of panic in his eye as his 'New Conservative' diversity-friendly image collided with the long-standing values of his party. I would also take a glance at the Don't Judge My Family campaign, countering the Tory plans to give straight, married couples a tax break. I have known married couples stay together far longer than they should, causing knock-on problems down the line with a sustained, unhappy family atmosphere. Equally, marriages can break up as a result of one person rather than both - should the abandoned party be left to pay more tax because they couldn't or wouldn't beg their partner to stay and make it work? Judging citizens based on their marital status is laughably backward - 'smug, Victorian finger-wagging', as Harriet Harman so eloquently put it. So the Tories are not scoring highly in my books, especially with Chris Grayling's (my local MP, oh the shame) recent comments on B&B guests.

I still haven't 100% decided where my vote is going, but I do feel sorry for the flack Labour gets. Whoever is in power will cause dissatisfaction and attract mockery after thirteen years at the helm, especially in the wake of recession depression and a (non party-specific) expenses scandal. In the TV debates, for me, Gordon made the shortest, neatest points, seemed the most honest - including addressing the tough stuff - and seemed to have his policies most firmly in his head, and not in his notes. That said, he also made cringey jokes and got suckered into Cameron's playground bickering. I liked that he picked up on Cameron's constant quest to avoid giving any kind of answer ('This isn't question time, David, this is answer time.') Dave just seems to think he can respond with 'Yes, I agree *carefully registered name*, we're in a real mess. But look at what Labour have done about it - NOTHING. I'm not going to promise we're going to do any better but... Look! Look at them! Gordon can't even smile properly!' The day I see him respond with something resembling a plan of action will be the day I consider him as a possible leader.

I'm interested in the Lib Dem's ideas, but need to hear more than 'We're different.' This isn't Lidl trying to compete with Sainsbury's and Tesco, if you're a real contender come out with your policies up. Equally I need to read more into Labour's plans and track record, but I will certainly be stepping out to vote come May 6th. I think the Lib Dems will get much of the youth vote, if only because they're not such a broken record. Anything that gets my generation voting is fine by me, but make sure you get all your info before heading in to that polling station. I would love to hear if anyone's developed any new political leanings this year, and why. Particularly any new young Tories, oxymoronic as that may seem to me.

The world's unsexiest boyband [Brown's just a step behind on the choreography]

44th Time's a Charm

"Mr Bush has left the building - feel free to laugh and point"

I watched the inauguration yesterday in complete awe. I am by no means an expert on US politics, but the Washington coverage of Barack Obama taking office almost made me want to learn more. It's such a circus - the religious content spills over everything, the sense of history and ceremony is put forward so theatrically, no one at any moment has the urge to giggle.

Except us Brits, of course. Having a facebook browse after the big event, I found people's statuses surprising; not only the amount of interest this side of the pond, but the struggle between admiration and ridicule, the same struggle I felt whilst watching. Particular moments which inspired amusement included the 'poet' (sorry for the quotation marks, but she read what I can only assume was the ramblings of a stoner with all the emotion and fluency of a Scandanavian sat-nav), Aretha Franklin's performance (I was desperate for an amazing slice of soul, but she sounded forced and over-the-hill, and her shrill gospel riffing clashed horribly with the sombre occasion) and .....forgive me.... Obama slightly cocking up his pledge to protect the office of President. Everyone seemed eager to acknowledge that it was compelling stuff, yet desperate to undermine that feeling with a jibe.

It is not cool to admire America. Especially not in matters of politics and religion.

Actually in the case of Obama's pledging issues, I found it refreshing and poignant that he hadn't been practising it into a hairbrush every night for a decade, it only made the guy seem more human.

I also thought his speech was dignified, eloquent and forceful - I felt he might actually have been the only one not blinded by emotion and patriotism, touching on the bad as well as the good. The most significant thing that kept popping up in the coverage before and after, was a bizarre expectation to hear some 'quotable lines', some snippets of commercial-sounding wisdom that would go down with 'Ask not what your country can do for you...' in the history books. The disappointment when the new President didn't come out with anything bumper-sticker worthy seemed immense.

Is it me, or is that totally missing the point of this supposed change? People want a doer, not a talker, and while Obama's oratory acrobatics have impressed, surely it's his actions that matter? George Bush was your ultimate middle America preacher - lots of 'good and evil', 'our great nation', all of that cute but empty rhetoric. And people still wanted that soundbite from Obama. What he did instead was confront the mistakes of his predecessor, state his aims and try to play down some of that Instant Saviour fever that's been surrounding him since he ran for President. All useful, purposeful and sincere efforts, it must be said.

I felt slightly jealous of the personal connection the thousands of Amerians flooding the Washington monument felt with their new leader - our leaders seem to provide fabulous comic material for panel shows and Private Eye, but we generally lose respect for them before they even come to power. Watching tears run down faces (not just young, not just African-American faces) as he spoke was moving, and not necessarily because of the promise of the man himself. It is that absolute faith that things can and will get better, a total idealism that we are devoid of in the UK. And I'm not sure which attitude I'm more fond of; I adore blunt realism and mistrust blind faith, but we'll never have that feeling of magic in the air on a state occasion. We're too busy waiting for the Duke of Edinburgh to blunder into political incorrectness, for Gordon to flash that less-than-dreamy smile of his, or for Boris to... show up.

There's a reason our history is less animated and thrilling than our transatlantic cousins', why it reads like the classifieds section of Heating, Ventilation and Plumbing News. We don't believe anything anyone has to say, and our politicians know it. Their speeches are unconvincing and bland, they have that hunted look that only Paxman's interrogation can induce... any use of the word Love in its cheesiest, most abstract form (as proudly wielded yesterday by several speakers) would be met by raucous heckles.

I find it fascinating that two countries with such entwined roots can have such starkly different responses to political change. My reaction to the event? Unbelievably pleased for America, while ever so Britishly hoping they don't expect a miracle.