Kilburn High Road. Believe it or not I've never been here. Beautiful terracotta cornicing, neo-Georgian windows, beautiful street people. London's own Flatbush Avenue. Listening to Brooklyn's The National. Good sound but hold on, lyrics: 'flicks his cock on the table', 'Sit down and fuck me'. Yuck, it's the US Babybird, sleazepot.
Silverlink, Brondesbury to Hackney Central. Less visually appealing, Liz likes the place. Top deck bus ride to Tottenham Court Rd via Dalston and Shoreditch. Why isn't this ride in all guidebooks; red brick wastelands, little Vietnam, fantastic vista of minarets and the deliciously diaphanous Gherkin. Simple pleasure.
How good is Juliette Lewis's co-lead in Sam Shepard's Fool fo Love at the Apollo. Martin Henderson is all Denis Wilson/Jeff Bridges dude cool with the stance of a panther. Juliette dons a little red dress, lithe and hetero-baiting. The passion is staged, this is theatre, via extenuated physicality and door slamming. It is convincing.
Juliette's May awaits a date when old flame Eddie (Martin H) shows up. "You said you're seeing a man, you only see guys." Eddie sticks around to see this date for himself, cue dark fun about eligibility and sexual mores: "I was seeing May in high school. I didn't realise she was my sister. We were only fooling around. I mean top half only." The nature of family romance, the shocking yet inevitable conclusion of incest is conveyed by an old man, the father sat in a rocking chair. This interior monologue is slightly annoying but genuinely alarming when the grey, sonambulant figure launches into scathing dialogue.
Good to see live performance, especially with the male and female leads so hot!
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