We went to see Fame at the cinema yesterday - it looked like it might have been a bad idea by the time we were embedded in the queue for tickets among precocious pre-teens. It had a 'started so we'll finish' sort of feel to it, so we ended up in a reassuringly half empty auditorium, a long way away from any theatre school types (not that there's anything wrong with theatre school types, it's just I didn't want to sit near them). The film was OK, the plot even thinner than expected (not even the obligatory dancing competition), but the music was rather good. It was all interspersed by 11 year olds filing past us at regular intervals to go to the ladies to giggle and gossip. They were very polite and kept saying 'sorry' (with nicely rounded vowel sounds), but it did get a bit tiresome. In spite of all this, the film worked it's magic, and I found myself wondering why I hadn't yet written the most acclaimed monologue of the 21st century, or penned some 'keeping it real' rap lyrics. I think it might be quite fun to write some middle class, middle aged, middle management rap. I think I stand more chance of being a success with that, than donning a sparkling bowler and belting out 'Cabaret' for Simon Cowell.
I've just checked the lyrics for 'Come to the Cabaret' and was surprised to read the line, 'Put down that knittin?...that book and the broom'.
Sounds dangerously middle England to me.
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