London Grip speculates about some film ideas which, sadly, never proceeded beyond the concept stage…
Clarion is nothing if not the darkest of satires, the dark night of a very grubby soul – the soul in question being what passes for our free tabloid press.
A sweetly romantic, rosey-hued look back, a coming-of-age strongly laced with autobiographical elements of the young O’Neill himself, falling in love, rebelling, visiting a house of shame and finding reconciliation with childhood sweetheart, Muriel.
To attempt to put on stage the events of 9/11 you might feel, is an act either of supreme folly or chutzpah. In Davies, Drake and Warner’s hands however, it is neither, only artistry, seamless precision and the worst of imagined personal moments recharged with fresh meaning. Lives literally held in suspension between worlds made transcendent. Quite wonderful.
London Grip offers another fable for our times – showing there is more than one way to make successful predictions… and also exposing potential flaws in the compilation of performance statistics,
A rare play by prize winning author, Doris Lessing who died in 2014. Each His Own Wilderness had a staged reading at the Royal Court in 1958 but Paul Miller now running the Orange Tree has provided Lessing’s extraordinary play with its first full production.
London Grip presents a small fable for our times – but one that is possibly being shared a decade too late
The first thing that struck me and indeed drew me to this collection of short stories was the remarkable front cover designed by Mark Holihan. It has all the elements we associate with Margate: sand, parakeets, and the Victorian sea front.
In the debate leading up to the 2015 General Election, it is noteworthy that of the three significant parties opposing austerity, two are overtly nationalist. To some this seems suspicious as nationalism has always had a reputation as a rather right wing ideology.
Shot in black and white and set in a grimy Little Italy, the neo-realism of the street reveals a vision of immigrants crawling out of poverty and finding some way of making it or being destroyed by the struggle for success in America.
With their green goats, giant roosters and bridal couples flying through the air, Marc Chagall’s works appear fantastic, but he insisted he only painted direct reminiscences of his own life.
Michael Bartholomew-Biggs enjoys exploring and sometimes unravelling the tightly wrought poems in a first collection by New Zealand poet John Dennison