15 Mar continued

I suppose the previous post requires some explanation. After a surprisingly enjoyable Wednesday of classes (1^st WW Lit wasn’t as mind-numbingly boring today, perhaps because we discussed madness), I headed straight for the Donmar Warehouse theater in Covent Garden in search of my ticket. There was a £22.50 pound ticket still available in the Circle section (top floor) but when I asked for the standing room ticket instead, he obliged. Ticket in hand and fearfully excited, I pondered what to do next. The time was just past 13:30 and the show wasn’t on until 19:30. Instead of staying in town at the library or something, I decided to head home and get some reading done for tomorrow.

Time passed quickly and soon after I decided that I would make my own dinner early (because I needed to catch the 18:24 train, I couldn’t eat dinner at 18:00), Lainey informed me that she was hungry already and wanted to eat dinner at 17:30 instead. That worked out perfectly for me. Dinner was fun and I left early near the end of it to catch my train. I made it to the theater right at 19:00 and immediately felt a bit underdressed. I had a nice sweater on, my leather jacket, and my leather gloves. It was the jeans that killed the elegance of the rest of my clothing. Oh well, I’m a student.

I asked the man taking my ticket if there was a chance for autographs. He told me that they usually come down the stairs I was about to ascend after the show, and that they would only sign play-related material, like programs and such. Before I went to the standing room section, I bought a program for £2. There was no one else on the top floor, so I sat down while I could. About 15 past a lot of people started showing up and the house was full just before 19:30. Shortly thereafter, the lights dimmed and Sir Ian McKellen walked on stage. Everyone shut up for him.

The play was about a family man (Ian McKellen) who performs a ghastly operation at work called “The Cut” that apparently “frees the soul from the body.” The cut itself is not explained, only its effects. It’s an extremely painful process and most of society is strongly against its execution. McKellen’s family does not know what he does. The play begins with a young man visiting McKellen’s office and requesting that The Cut be performed on him. McKellen is desperately trying to get away from this foul practice until the young man convinces him that it’s a beautiful thing although there are other ways to achieve nearly the same experience. This part goes on for some time until McKellen finally performs The Cut, much to his distaste and the young man’s agony. I must say, it was a little startling to hear McKellen swear so profusely at first, but I soon grew accustomed to it.

The next scene took place at McKellen’s home when he and his wife are waiting for their maid to bring out dinner. The woman playing his wife, Deborah Findlay, did a wonderful job and was better than McKellen at some parts. The pace dragged a bit here but the dialog was quite good at times. This bit ended with the husband and wife pair resolving to patch up their strained relationship.

Next thing we know, we’re in a jail cell with just a bed and a dismal overhead lamp. McKellen has been imprisoned for performing The Cut! His son, part of the movement against the barbaric practice, visits Pops in prison and tries to help him. McKellen refuses all aid and even asks his son if he thinks he is evil, to which the son responds (after some delay), yes. I thought the acting done by the son was atrocious. His part was definitely the weakest of the entire play. Father and son talk for sometime, until finally McKellen is left in complete darkness. Play over!

I rushed out of the theater (after applauding mightily) and waited at the bottom of the stairs, Sharpie in my hand and program in my purse. I waited until the entire theater emptied, and still no sign of the cast. Finally, I saw some girls giggling near the top of the stairs and knew it could mean only one thing. I immediately went back to the top floor and on the landing I could hear McKellen’s great booming laugh echo around. I went in search of the source of the voice and found it in the tiny bar/café on the second floor. He was right there!

A woman was just ahead of me, and then it was my turn. I said, “May I have your autograph, sir?” to which he responded, “Certainly.” I handed him my program and Sharpie and was embarrassed to see him have a little trouble opening the tight cap. As he signed the program, I managed to squeak out, “I think you’re marvelous,” to which he simply replied, “Thanks.” I thanked him as he handed me the program and pen and then, grinning from here to Timbuktu, I turned around and left. I dared not linger for he was talking with a couple of old ladies and my autograph request was intrusion enough, and I did not want to be rude.

I can’t express in words how happy I was leaving the theater. Cloud 9 was not high enough for me. I couldn’t stop smiling until I got home. Lainey and Gregg were there and when they asked how the play was, I didn’t answer but just pulled out my program and handed it to her. “Oh my gosh!” she said. “That’s how the play was,” I answered. It was amazing. I chatted with them for a bit before taking a picture of the program and sending it to some friends and family. I also immediately posted in on this blog.

Now you know exactly how I got Gandalf’s autograph. Needless to say, the rest of the night passed very well. Cheers!