Josh Widdicombe

Josh Widdicombe and Charlie Baker, Spring Tour Blackheath Halls, June 8 2012 There’s a very fine line between good taste and bad. Good comedians spend their lives on this edge. Cross over and they shock, stray too far and they bore, the key is in finding a balance. Josh Widdicombe is still looking for his own path to tread but in the meantime he is funny and sharp. The same can’t be said for his warm-up, Charlie Baker, who was crude and vulgar and coarse. Unstructured, unfunny, he raised barely a smile, his interaction with the audience quite dismal. And yet, between jokes, he sang jazz, what a marvellous voice, a pity he didn’t sing more. He tried too hard to please and fell flat on his face, a contrast with what was to follow. Widdicombe engaged with the audience from the start, engaging and personable and relaxed. “Why is it we call it a gravy boat”, he laments,” when the liquid stays inside the vessel?” He gathers his material from everyday life, the small things that most of us miss. Our computers keep asking, send error report? No thanks, he responds, I’m no grass. The trips down to Argos “guessing what might be stock” - “why don’t they put what they have in the shop?” Or the miniature items you can find in the gift shops like “rucksacks for guinea pigs who travel”. A Devon lad by birth (1983), his rise has been swift, his first performance back in 2008 (The Edinburgh Fringe Festival). His material has been good enough for both radio (Frank Skinner Show) and TV (Mock the Week and 8 out of 10 Cats) and he has gone on live tour with the best (Michael Macintyre and Shappi Khorsandi). While his structure is bare, the jokes keep on coming, they are clever and thoughtful and quick.” His place is quite firmly in the middle of the road and for families and children he is safe. ”What kind of house has 9 rooms but no toilet (Cluedo) and why don’t the characters call the police? The show fails to build to an out and out climax but the humour stays sharp till the end. “It’s not tetris”, he tells the waitress at Wagamama’s when added to a party of 3. Widdicombe is good and over time could be great. A comfortable and funny night out. 8/10 Dick Morgan June 2012 I’m sure that bull is much more frightened of you than you are of it’)

Greenwich Park Sunday September 2, 2012 A sky full of rain was not what we wanted, a day at the Dressage ahead of us. But no amount of bad weather was about to deter us- this new generation of Britains. The Volunteer Army – what dedication they have shown – was once again present, a smile on each face, helpful comments en route. We were sped through security with military precision and once in the Park, the drizzle had stopped. Greenwich Park in its glory rose out of the mist, its view over London, unparalleled. Down the hill to refreshments – too early for queues – the coffee and croissants most welcome. Slipping into our seats our breath was taken away, the arena stunning against a backdrop of Wren. Rarely can sport have been set in such splendor, the Queen’s House, Naval College and Observatory. “So much better than tele”, my mother observed, “I’d no idea that they had done such a good job”. As one we rose to welcome the athletes (waving only, clapping frightens the horses), the cold forgotten in the face of their courage. This delicate sport is both complex and neat, the rider and horse merged as one. Control is its essence as the power of the beast is entirely transformed into grace. Its speed is reduced, its movements restricted and it executes exactly as bidden; half and full passes, piaffes (alternate diagonals), reining back (moving backwards), flying changes (changing lead legs), trotting and cantors. The various events are classified by impediment to ensure the optimal consistency and fairness. Each rider’s background was announced over the tanoy, each personal disability explained. However, the class we were watching (Grade 4 – least disability) seemed quite difficult to fathom with a wider range of impediment than expected; Nathalie Bizet (part sighted) who was 10th,James Dwyer (loss of limb) who was 6th to the winner (restricted joints), Michele George. It’s already been said but it’s still worth repeating; the Games have altered the way that we think; more positive and constructive, more happy and hopeful, more tolerant and understanding of others. If all this can take place in such a short space of time, roll on Rio in 2016. Dick Morgan September 2012.

David Lodge

David Lodge; HG Well; A Man of Parts Blackheath Halls, Wednesday, November 21, 2012 Fictional biography is currently in vogue, a life story woven in fact. The attraction is clear with invention superfluous, the writer connecting the dots. Sir David Lodge, a major exponent, spoke eloquently of his love for his art; “ it’s underrated, controversial and I am implicitly defensive”… of this medium which “brings characters back to life”. Lodge most recent book - A Man of Parts – is a voluminous work (556 pages) the life of the author HG Wells. “For years I’ve admired him, this writer and scientist… but I am not really sure that I liked him”. The book opens with Wells near the end of his life (1866-1946) looking back on his past with mixed feelings. An impoverished childhood in a shop down in Bromley, an apprenticeship he is said to have hated. Small and rotund, sickly and weak, his future looked decidedly bleak. But then an epiphany – “I decided to stop dying” - and he started to write and 100 books later he stopped. The Time Machine (1895) brought him immediate fame, The Invisible Man (1897) quickly after. The War of The Worlds (1898) had people fleeing their homes when read on the radio in New York. Lodge warmed to his subject, to this most unusual of men, a literary and articulate scientist. He foretold the future from TV to (atom) bombs and has “blazed in the firmament…for decades”. But Lodge’s delivery lacked warmth and engagement too instructive to connect with the audience. Wells too was didactic on evolution and politics, a socialist till the end of his days. In his dealings with women he was surprisingly liberal describing sex like “tennis or badminton”. Free love, open marriage were the rules of his game – 2 marriages and over 100 partners. “However did he find the time”, Lodge mused. The book is well written, well researched and flows strongly, author / subject affinities - lower middle class, south London childhoods – quite intriguing. But while he brings Wells back to life with both affection and power there are question marks over the medium. Wells imagined, he invented, he foresaw and foretold, Lodge recounts what the other man wrote. Lodge started, continued and concluded with Wells, not even his epitaph was off limits.“ I told you so, you damn fools”, Wells is said to have written; how appropriate and utterly correct. Good if not gripping. 6/10. Dick Morgan, November 2012

Jane Ridley

Jane Ridley; Bertie; a Life of Edward VII Blackheath Halls, Wednesday, September 17, 2012 Just like his mother he gave his name to an era. But Victorian prudence, good taste and restraint were not for King Edward VII. His legacy speaks to hunting and shooting, to gambling and pleasure to philandering with prominent women. Shameless wastrel and hedonist or misunderstood and ignored by a mother who loathed him? Jane Ridley's new book - Bertie; A Life of King Edward VII - sheds new light on the man who for 6 decades stood as heir to the throne. With unparalleled access to the (Royal) Archives at Windsor, the book was 9 years in the writing. "I got lost in the detail", she told her small band of listeners and "found myself liking the man". The seeds of his struggles were apparent from childhood. A rebellious nature – “he howled in the corner” and overshadowed by a brilliant sister (Vicky) who at three was fluent in French. But much more compelling, he was starved of emotion by a mother who "shuddered" to touch him. He sought solace elsewhere with little discretion and the family was shocked and embarrassed. To bring him in line he was soon married off, to Alexandra of Denmark who adored him and bore him six children. But something was missing and again he went wild with a series of well known affairs; from ambitious Lily Langtree and babbling Daisy Brooke to the legendary actress, Sarah Bernhardt. His mother was outraged and refused to admit him; "Bertie is unfit to be King", she lamented. But worse was to follow (1861) with the death of poor Albert from which Victoria never recovered. Bertie was blamed, she perennially wore black and she abandoned her duties as sovereign. It was Bertie who picked up the reigns she had dropped, reinventing the idea of monarchy (and even coining the phrase, “Royal Family”).In 1901 he acceded the throne – “it’s come too late”, he’s believed to have said. But this fashionable socialite confounded his critics and worked tirelessly till his death 9 years later. The Navy was modernised, the Army restructured and the Entente Cordiale (1904) signed with France. This revisionist biography skips over his faults, his bad habits and his rather large waist (48 inches). But with insight and humour and unending research, Ridley brings us a brand new perspective. She was refreshingly candid when asked just why she wrote it; “my editor tells me biographies sell best”. Thoughtful, insightful and touching. 8/10. Dick Morgan, October 2012