Wednesday, August 04, 2010

Wherein there is some hoo-ha about spelling 'Corinne'

Initially I wasn't scheduled for a review today. Then last night a show became a review orphan and I was asked to be its adoptive reviewer parent (like how I'm extending that analogy?). Then this morning the show concerned decided that it didn't want to be reviewed on its first preview and, once again, I had a review-less day in front of me.

So a scout around my local area seemed in order (Coffee shop = check. Pub = check. Shop selling handmade corsets = most definitely check) before making my way to Fringe Central to pick up my press pass. Fringe Central is bright and airy and full of currently chirpy looking staff in Fringe t-shirts. Even the few performers who were scattered stapling promo material haven't yet adopted the rabbit-in-headlights look of week two and half of the festival. In short - (most) shows have yet to begin, possibility is (almost) endless and people still have vitamins in their bodies. Thus all is well.

Which is not quite the case when it comes to my press pass. Not that people's inability to either spell or pronounce my name is something which has dogged me since I was old enough to know that people were pronouncing or spelling it incorrectly. And not that my name had to have been copied from what was (at some point) the correct spelling. And not that mis-spelling having had the correct spelling is my number one annoyance. And - okay I'll save it for therapy.

PassAlign Center

Twitter was actually spared a protracted name spelling rant when I heard my name across the room. Or rather, what I heard was:


Obviously, Connie is not my name either (though it was what my sister used to call me when she couldn't say Corinne) but it is a deliberate wrongness that was started by Charming Canadian at some point during the MA and was picked up with avengence by Breakfast Club Boy last Summer. And thus, in the manner of these things, has become something I answer to.

Breakfast Club Boy is photocopying programmes for the play that will never die so we stand and do photocopying maths and I roll my eyes a bit at the ones he's screwed up.

Then, by way of an aborted attempt to get tickets for @m_keane's play at the Pleasance (note to self: don't try that one again. The box office queue of doom rather than the play in question, that is), we take the default Edinburgh Fringe option and go to the pub. And even though it is a whiskey and loud music pub which makes Breakfast Club Boy laugh about how incongruous I am in it, I take pity and fold programmes.

Billy Programmes

Afterwards it's on to Hamlet the Musical for me which I am seeing not because of reviewing but because of twitter. Which is why, if I am not evangelical enough already, every theatre company should be on twitter. I'm a pernickity customer when it comes to Shakespeare spoofs and, even without those David Tennant Hamlets, this is a play I know well. And by well I mean - have lots of opinions on. Hamlet the Musical has its moments - most often, unsurprisingly, when it takes lines directly from the original - and its 'To Be Or Not To Be' song is inspired. But I can't help but feel that it is neither a sharp enough spoof on Hamlet or on musical theatre. I'm a lone voice in this audience, however, who are packed in and loving it.

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