Henry is 25 and desperately backpeddling, to no avail. He is a lucky man, free enough to do things and poor enough to enjoy them. But as he’s dragged, kicking and screaming from one of life’s pleasures to another, he remains slave to the stupid memory that says yesterday was better than today. Perhaps he’s a squirrel, saving treats for later? If nothing else, he’s old enough to know that things have never been so good – tomorrow will tell him so.
30
Dec
2008
Don’t Wait for Godot in London
Here are a few stonewall review predictions for the new production of Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot, which ends its national tour at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket in April
7
Dec
2008
Country Estate Style in the Big Smoke
Have you ever seen a more conservative, reactionary and, frankly, scared set of 'trends'? Head shawls? Tartan? Plaid? Has the world gone mad?
