|
|
Post by Dante on Oct 18, 2012 15:24:21 GMT -5
|
|
|
|
Post by allegedly bryan on Oct 18, 2012 15:30:19 GMT -5
I was almost positive that was Zooey Deschenakbafdkjlsdfh at first.
|
|
|
|
Post by Anka on Oct 18, 2012 15:40:55 GMT -5
I'll kill youtube! "This video is not available in your country because it could possibly contain blah blah copyright blah..." (Nero voice) Oh, but this one works  |
|
|
|
Post by Dante on Oct 18, 2012 15:43:27 GMT -5
I'll kill youtube! "This video is not available in your country because it could possibly contain blah blah copyright blah..." (Nero voice) That's pretty baffling, and I apologise. Fortunately, it's only a teaser video. It contains the principal actors, of whom only one speaks, and he describes the things that he, as a latke, is made of; these substances are then deposited over him, which is not very pleasant as they constitute things like grated potato and beaten eggs. Edit: Beat me to my summary like an egg. |
|
|
|
Post by Anka on Oct 18, 2012 15:46:26 GMT -5
Okay, I've seen it now because of the other link. I like how he keeps smiling when the egg is put into his face.
|
|
|
|
Post by B. on Oct 18, 2012 15:57:50 GMT -5
This looks amusing, although Scotland to London is kinda impossible for me. Still good luck to anybody who can go.
I'm also tickled to find that the latke is played by a man. I would've imagined some kind of giant puppet pancake, although I guess a human portrayal adds to the bizarre and humorous factor of this story.
|
|
|
|
Post by Christmas Chief on Oct 18, 2012 16:02:53 GMT -5
It helps, probably, that the latke can walk and talk and think. Still, does the website give a running time? I can't imagine the book being drawn out for very long.
|
|
|
|
Post by Hermes on Oct 18, 2012 16:49:22 GMT -5
It helps, probably, that the latke can walk and talk and think. Still, does the website give a running time? I can't imagine the book being drawn out for very long. Well, they do mention music, which allows these things to be spun out. Where the Wild things Are, a similarly short book, was turned into an opera. I see the same group has previously done The Gruffalo, which is also pretty short. |
|
|
|
Post by Christmas Chief on Dec 15, 2012 7:05:58 GMT -5
Just spotted a review of this, by The Telegraph: ~~~ The Latke Who Couldn’t Stop Screaming, The Roundhouse, reviewBy Laura Thompson I confess that, before seeing this show, the term “Lemony Snicket” was nothing more to me than a couple of familiar yet meaningless words, like “quantitative easing”. Now I know as much as I ever will, that Lemony Snicket is the pen name of, and a character created by, the American novelist Daniel Handler, and that in 2007 Snicket/Handler published a clever, absurd, gently educative little Christmas story entitled The Latke Who Couldn’t Stop Screaming. A latke is a potato pancake eaten to celebrate Hanukkah, and absolutely nothing to do with Christmas. That, of course, is the point. The latke – embodied in this production by a mournful-eyed Michael Lambourne – goes on a journey in which it, or 'he’, encounters various symbols of Christmas celebration. He feels himself to be increasingly out of step until, finally, he is welcomed into the home of a Jewish family. The moral of this tale – that acceptance is all, and that everybody has their place in the world – is very sweetly delivered by the fabulous five-strong cast. And such is Lambourne’ s charm as a performer that, by the end, I found myself tremendously concerned about the fate of this damn potato pancake. This adaptation is deliciously directed by Olivia Jacobs and Tim Hibberd, staged in front of a design (by Bek Palmer) of black cut-out houses with a deep orangey back-lighting. It is the cast, however, who take full possession of the show. They play a variety of instruments and perform apt snatches of music, for example a yearning Yiddish theme. They create an air of adorable silliness, a good-natured knowingness that tips delicately into pastiche. The set-pieces that comprise the latke’s 'journey’ are extremely funny, notably the passage in which he meets a set of fairy lights: in other words, the four other actors, wearing bright-coloured bobble hats and doing an a capella chant of 'sparkle’, 'bling bling’ and the like. The profoundly droll Damien Warren-Smith keeps going out (just one dodgy light? I can do you a whole string), a joke that is not laboured but that elicits a good deal of grown-up laughter. There is a lot of this kind of humour packed into the short show, although the more serious message feels peculiarly timely. My only proviso is that, for all its fun and japery, this actually rather sophisticated production may be appreciated more by adults than by children. ~~~ |
|
