Another year, another quick fumble with the lock-picks... and we're in... isn't the abandoned Windmill Theatre lovely... well... it would be if it were still a theatre. Still, grab a pole, try not to swing on it, or maybe get a chair down off one of the tables and we will begin.
In traditional monkey style, the serious stuff first. No Gold Medals this year - no lives saved, or outstanding contributions to anything much; but the monkey is delighted to award TWO Silver Medals as follows:
Theatremonkey Silver Medal: to the various security and customer service staff at the “Girls Aloud” concert at the O2 Arena on 23rd June 2024. To the ladies of the customer service desk who provided a “fidget spinner” to an autistic child, when a parent asked for assistance to fill time before the show. To the various security people at the front entrance who let monkey out to obtain the pack it had to collect at customer services, then let it in again without fuss. To the security officer in the pit in front of the stage, between stage and front rail, for making a special fuss of a very young lady at her first concert. To the front row security lady who handed wristbands to the rest of us in that row, permitting us to stand at the rail in front of the stage, and to the staff assisting her who diplomatically ‘moved on’ those without wristbands. Every one of you made it a special night for all attending.
Theatremonkey Silver Medal: To Charlotte Elisabeth Yorke for stepping in at 2 hours notice to play the lead role of “Kevin” in musical “Here You Come Again” at Richmond Theatre. Normally a backing singer and understudy “Dolly Parton,” Ms Yorke not only took over the role but coped with transforming gay Kevin into lesbian Kelly, changing the course of the show and making a little showbiz history in the process. The monkey salutes her, and the cast who supported her.
Pictured at the curtain call, from left, Charlotte Elisabeth Yorke, Tricia Paoluccio, Alex Akira Crawford.
And now to the stuff Theatremonkey readers love, and the rest of the West End pretend they never read. Let's go...
A Close Up by Cecil B DeMille: to Gregor Milne in “Sunset Boulevard” at the Savoy Theatre. Playing (as understudy that afternoon) the great director, Milne was required to appear with his back to the camera, facing a bright light so that the back of his head could be projected onto a huge on-stage screen. In a peculiar visual trick, the bright lights shone in remarkable manner straight through the holes in Milne’s pierced ears.
The Julian Clary soft thrown object: to Boy George for turning Clary’s annual routine “throwing something ‘accidentally’ into the audience and hitting a child to great consternation” into reality at “Peter Pan, The Arena Spectacular Pantomime.” The final fight involved audience and actors exchanging a barrage of soft “cannon balls.” A tiny boy of about 3 ran to the stage to join in the fun and Boy George batted a ball at him... which hit him in the head – cue tears, a mum rushing to comfort and one mortified pop star. Mr George’s calling them back to the stage for an apologetic pat was a kind gesture and he was so clearly upset by such an accident the monkey felt for them all.
The Open A.I. Cup (for best virtual reality becoming actual): to Alys Whitehead for set design at “This Might Not Be It” in the Bush Theatre Studio. Her NHS office set was so convincing that an audience member used its bin to dispose of their coffee cup on the way out.
The Rusty Sieve (for leaky security): to the Peacock Theatre. The monkey attended a performance in February, carrying a metre-long cardboard poster tube as well as its usual bag. Long queue for security searches, and when the monkey reached the front of it, the tube was ignored, the bag cursorily searched. After the show, it pointed the issue out to a disinterested house manager. After all, it could have contained a bomb, knife, gun, protest banner, anything...
Ryanair Scratchcard (for almost reaching the right destination by a few miles): to the party of ladies at “Pretty Woman The Musical” at the New Wimbledon Theatre. Noisy discussion in the aisle before seating themselves in row B... realising, as others arrived, that they should have been in row V. Collective hearing issues or wishful thinking? You decide.
A ”The Living Brain” toy for Christmas (for being a smart alec): to the person sitting in the row behind the monkey at “Minority Report.” The play opens with a lecture during which it is claimed that the amygdala processes “aggressive behaviour”. Genius behind monkey snorts audibly, “it doesn’t.” Guess what brainiac... You were wrong. Shame your name probably isn’t Frederick and you didn’t get the gift father Frasier bought you that year. Isn’t it. Well, you got one now, pal.
A Companionship of Honour (for company spirit): to Michael Matus as Sir Toby Belch in the Open Air Theatre’s “Twelfth Night.” Exiting with his company up the slippery auditorium stairs at the end of act one, a caringly whispered “carefully” was noted and appreciated by all.
A copy of “1066 and all that”: to The National Theatre for stating boldly in “The Grapes of Wrath” programme that World War II began in 1935.
The Cinderella Shoe Horn: to Jordan Shaw. At “Oklahoma! In Concert” (Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, August 2024) he slipped heavily on his first entrance down a staircase. Joanna Riding as Aunt Eller warned him to be careful, but Shaw by way of explanation held up his shoe – sole and upper divorced acrimoniously. Taking his other shoe off, he completed his long dance scene in socks, impressive. Concurrently, Rubber Judd’s Rats to every other member of the cast who did what generous actors always do in situations where a close colleague is in trouble... took the piss mercilessly for the next 20 minutes... Brilliant.
The 2017 Falling F Conference Prize (for unintended hilarity): to Zinnie Harris. Her script for “The Duchess [of Malfi]” had the heroine drown in a bath. A moment later, her murderer notices signs of life in his victim... and calls for a glass of water to revive her. Irony or simply bad taste? You decide.
Ten awards, well earned, and we are done, dusted (and dusty) in under an hour. A new record. Now, before the receivers discover and evict us, time to scarper. Hope the monkey wins one of those enormous Euromillions Lottery prizes, though, as just think what it would be like to restore this wonderful old theatre back to former glories?
And on that note, what glories lie ahead for 2025. The monkey already has one noted. Until then, happy theatregoing and here's to next year.
