There was no second half

As my readers know from previous blogs on the Friday evening after arriving back from holiday we went to the West Yorkshire Playhouse to see a production of Little Voice. We were looking forward to this as the play had received excellent reviews, and Marion had enjoyed the film.

We usually go to the theatre with our friends Sylvia and Ian, with whom we have seen many plays of many different genres. It usually transpires that I am a dissenting voice, often failing to see the merit in plays that the other three have riotously enjoyed.

So at during the first interval I thought that it would be best if I held back my slightly negative views. Not so Marion and Sylvia. They thought that the play was awful, citing its lack of pace; one-dimensional acting and crude humour aimed at stereotypes. They were vitriolic!

These were sentiments that I agreed with, but I thought that it was poor for more fundamental reasons; it neither entertained nor had a serious point to make. It was a sponge that took you in and spat you out again with no change.

So rather than eat an ice cream at the interval there was a serious discussion as to whether we should return for the second half. Everybody was unanimous; it was time to go, so we had an earlier night than we anticipated.

I have never before not seen a play or a film through to its conclusion, but I think that as I get older I believe that there is no point in compromising just for that sake of appearances or because you have paid anyway.

Unfortunately my readers you cannot see this masterpiece in Leeds as it’s run ended last Saturday. I would have like to have some contrarian views to have started a debate. Of course it could have been that we were just tired after our return from holiday.