(@ London Theatre) #
I recently (as of 20 minutes ago actually) attended a production of Lolita, a representation of Stanley Kubricks work (they say on posters).
I had gone in with no expectations, well, when you purchase tickets for “The London Theatre” online you expect something grandiose in the heart of theatreland.
However, this was not one of those. This was a “Fringe Theatre”, which I’ve never heard of- but I’m open minded enough, although it’s situated in New Cross (not exactly known for it’s cultural prowess).
When we arrived at New Cross Gate station we were invited to walk over a rather sketchy looking scaffold bridge between platforms if we wanted to leave; once we got outside we navigated through the even sketchier neighbourhood
I’ve walked through New Cross before (back when I lived in Lewisham) and back then I had been hardened from my time in Coventry however, I’m a fat-lad now.. soft.. and with a blonde dependant- so I was very wary walking through streets of the shouting angry populace, with curse words aggressively slung in every direction.
We even managed to walk right passed the theatre, hidden in plain site was what appeared to be a home with black steel railing surrounding the courtyard, with a small concrete staircase leading down to a basement, you’d be forgiven for thinking this was an illegal pub.
The moment you walk in, you are surrounded by strangers, and I mean that in the truest sense of the word, these people were strange.
I counted 11 in total, in a dingy little bar that smelled suspiciously of wet musky dog.
10 minutes past the allocated time to start we were led into a small room painted entirely in a foreboding black, and an array of odd styles of lighting reminiscent of a thrift store were dotted about on the ceiling.
However, what happened in the next 4 hours was utterly enthralling; truly, amazing and a testament to actors everywhere.
Engaging, Funny, Emotive..
the assortment of actors (3) played their parts wonderfully, especially the lead (Humbert) played by David Alan Lucas (not the serial killer), mixing a desperate love into his creepy vibe, a potent recipe for empathy.
I truly believe we found something special here, and I would invite everyone to take the risk in going because it’s definitely worth it.
Aside from a few misaligned accents and stuttered words I was completely captivated.
Despite the 18+ warning on the ticket stub, there was nothing graphic, and no swearing that I heard, so perhaps it’s just the notion of a step-father sleeping with his step-daughter (or her being a harlet) is too much for young watchers… which is stranger still since I read the novel when I was a child myself. Nobody tell children about Woody Allen.