A Change of Plan

For all of you wanting to hear about Matthew Bourne’s latest production, I regret to say there was a change of plan.

On Friday evening Mum rang me and said, “I thought I’d better warn you, apparently you need to be very strong to see it.”

My spirits sank. I’d had the week from hell and while I had emerged finally feeling like myself again, for the past few days my entire self had been overtaken by some crazy, hormonally challenged monster. Strong was NOT how I’d been feeling.

“I read your blog and realised you were probably not feeling too good,” continued my mother. “So what do you think? Do you still want to see it?”

I sat there, torn. If you understood how much I adore Matthew Bourne’s work, this was one of the toughest decisions ever. It’s three years since the last one. He’s too busy choreographing Oliver for Cameron Mackintosh, and supervising his endless other ballets in China, the States and Japan.

On one hand there was this ballet which I’d been looking forward to for months. A one off opportunity. On the other hand, Dorian Gray is not exactly an uplifting topic. But he always brings his own humour to it.

“There must be witty bits,” I said hopefully.

“Apparently not. It’s all very dark and quite a lot of people walked out. A friend said that the end is really harrowing.” Mum paused. “I can see if anyone else would have your ticket.”

“I’ll ring you back in a few minutes.” I put down the phone and told Himself.

“You can’t be a wimp,” he said. “It’s only a ballet.” He then looked at me, evidently remembering the emotional ravages of the past week that had disturbed his sleep as well as mine. “Well, perhaps not,” he said.

I finished my cuppa and weighed it up. An incredible experience versus sanity. Sitting through two hours of what was going to be a Very Black look into someone’s tortured soul. I’d had a week of that and was desperate for a break. If I did see it, I would love the dancing – but at what cost? Would I feel hellish and weepy all weekend? Probably. And if I did, so would my poor husband and mother.

The voice of reason surfaced, so finally I said no. Mum rang back later and said she’d asked the box office to sell the tickets. She’d talked to several other people who’d seen it and decided she didn’t want to be depressed either. She’d rather spend the afternoon with us.

And so we didn’t go. Wimp I may be but at least we enjoyed the weekend – rain permitting. I think it’s important to know how far you can push yourself. Especially when hormonally challenged.

I’ve been scouring the internet for reviews of the ballet and found plenty of interviews with MB prior to the first performances, but no actual reviews. If you find any, please let me know.