Mickey Rooney in panto?

Imagine Judy Garland as Bo Peep in the Arts Theatre panto, or how about Clarke Gable in Aladdin at the leisure centre in Stevenage? The thought of a Hollywood legend in a local panto is perhaps the stuff of daydreams. But fantasy turns to pinch-yourself reality at the less-than-fairytale venue of Milton Keynes. For here a legend of the silver screen can be seen strutting his stuff in pantoland. Mickey Rooney – for it is he - is starring as Baron Hardup in the town’s annual show at the MK Theatre. Yes, Mickey Rooney of Babes in Arms with Judy Garland (1939) Mickey Rooney of Max Reinhard’s Midsummer Night’s Dream (1935). Yes indeed, the Rooney of National Velvet (1944) with Liz Taylor. That Mickey Rooney. And here he is at 89 still showbiz struck and an hour away in MK. The show, is splendid and not just for having a movie legend in its cast (surely with Bacall, the last of the great legends?). It also stars the quick fire comedian Bobby Davro and Blue Peter legendette Anthea Turner. Cinderella is as pantos should be – a torrent of great gags, superb costumes, dance routines, colour, glitz and two quite wonderfully grotesque ugly sisters. But great as this show is, the wonder of it is Mickey Rooney. There he is shuffling a bit, now and again a bit vague on lines and at one point, slightly nodding off. But an 89 year-old legend has every right to be a bit sleepy. That said his interventions are often very touching, funny and he still has that famous grin – the same as that seen with Spencer Tracey in Boys Town (1938) or with Judy again in “Girl Crazy” (1943).
He also smiles his way through Chaplin’s great song, “Smile”.
Cinderella is a tale of rags to riches and magical transformations. Mickey Rooney, who started in silent movies and is still going strong, has magically transformed a regional panto into something very special: a living legend on stage. Go see it while you can.

dark nights, light thoughts

Though I don't look forward to them, long nights and short days do have their advantages. One is staring me in the face right now: my laptop. The shorter days - it's now dark in Cambridge England, at 6 15. That means any summery temptations to be out in the garden, strolling by the river or having a late drink in the pub garden, have been dissipated. Now is the time for long evening reflections. So, I begin my blogging by thinking about blagging.
Blagging is an art form that I have spent much of my 60 years developing. To blag: 'A generally successful attempt to sound sagacious in the earnest belief that those who know less than you will receive a net addition to their store of knowledge'. That too, of course, is a blag-worthy definition.

Anyway, blagging is a real art form. I spent a merry hour in Borders today, while Sheila was shopping in M&S, browsing through some popular business books of the self help variety. Most were pot boilers filled with the most inventive blags - mostly state-of-the-obvious stuff. There was a book called 'Pay off your mortgage in two years'. It was full of blag-enriched text whose only function was to fill pages. 'Make a list of your top spending priorities' - 'Make a list of things you can do without' 'Make a list of 25 ways you can pay off your mortgage in two years'. Then of course, there is the inevitable space for those pointless lists to be filled in by the hapless and generally duped reader.

On this long dark night of the sole (there's only me here) I have had several ideas for blag-heavy book.
'Get rich by writing a self help book'
'250 ways to write a 250-point list'
'Self help yourself to publishing profits'

Anyway, it's time for some fish soup - a liquified remnant of our dinner last night.
'100 things to do with left over haddock'