Special Event Blog: Latitude Festival 2010

Saturday 1pm

I’ll begin with a shameful admission: before yesterday, I’d never seen a show by Filter. I know, it’s bad. What kind of a theatre journalist am I, eh? On the upside though, I came to yesterday’s production of The Dream with barely any preconceptions and sometimes it’s nice to experience theatre like that.

The Dream took place yesterday in the Theatre Arena and I managed to nab a seat after Laura the very kind stage manager sneaked me in past the snaking queue (memo to Nancy for next time). As anticipated, the show was rough and ready from the off: we’re not bothering with the Greeks, we were told, no one’s interested in them anyway. The players have been introduced and the show is just about to start when a ukulele-brandishing Keith Allen, poised to play Bottom, storms off, disgruntled at having been described as a TV comedian. A brief moment of awkwardness before Mark “from the Nationwide ads” Benton is plucked from his seat in the crowd to take over the part and all is going swimmingly again.

The whirlwind production that follows is funny, clever and irreverent, just what is required from Shakespeare performed in a hot tent. Benton is brilliant as Bottom, combining supposed confusion at his sudden inclusion in the show with the well assured comic timing for which he is known.

Strong performances too from the rest of the cast, as they jump from scene to scene, presenting the funniest moments from the lovers’ encounters and the bickering of Oberon and Titania. I can’t mention any names (not organised enough to have the necessary information with me I’m afraid), apart from that of the aforementioned Jonathan Broadbent, whose Oberon was indeed different from any I’d seen before. In a bright blue super hero costume, complete with flapping silver cape, he stomped around the stage, consumed with self-importance and blissfully unaware of the ridiculous figure he was cutting.

The only moment in the production that jarred was the jump between the charming conclusion to the lovers’ stories and the tie up to the Mechanicals’, which shattered the mood somewhat. The final 10 minutes or so of the show had a chaos to them that I’m not sure was intended, but given the general atmosphere of Filter’s offering, I can’t say that any real harm was done. A great introduction to Filter and a charming route into A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

– by Jo Caird

Saturday 8pm 


Not particularly theatre related but I saw a fascinating Q&A in the film arena this afternoon with director Paul Greengrass. He was chatting to Simon Mayo about his career, from the film club at school which sparked his passion for the medium to his controversial recent Green Zone.

Greengrass cited Pontecorvo’s The Battle of Algiers as one of his earliest inspirations (which Mayo cannily pointed out has a contemporary resonance in that it was watched by the Algerian football team before their recent world cup match with England).

“It showed perfectly how a passive image can spark an active thought” he said, before citing the film’s influence on his own Bloody Sunday, in that both examine the fall-out of colonialism. “I wanted to show that a modern conflict can be resolved by power-sharing and mutual agreement, as opposed to out-and-out victory for one side … in that way I suppose I was challenging the ideology of Pontecorvo”.

He then humbly said he felt directors were overrated in the film world – “in truth directing involves watching other people do brilliant work … we’re merely jacks-of-all-trades and masters of none” – and ruled out the possibility of another Bourne film (even though he had previously promised Mayo that if Tottenham got into the Champions League he would…)

Getting back to more theatrical fare with the RSC’s show later tonight. Gorgeous evening here in Southwold.

– by Theo Bosanquet 

Sunday 11am

The most memorable thing about last night’s RSC show The Thirteen Midnight Challenges of Angelus Diablo was the size of the queue to get in. As Jo reported on Friday, 1,500 people missed out on their first performance, and by the looks of it a similar number were left disappointed yesterday.

But in all honesty they didn’t miss that much – the show is essentially an actor in-joke strung out for almost an hour. The joke is that failed actor Angelus Diablo (a platform-booted Sandy Grierson) has been unable to get any work largely thanks to his spitting problem. So he sets about reeking revenge on six ‘innocent members of the public’, their only escape from punishment being to pass a series of increasingly obscure challenges (ideas for which were found via a Twitter campaign).

Like many companies at Latitude, the RSC have gone for a big, bawdy, accessible show in order to fit the festival atmosphere. But there isn’t really a need to do this, not least because the fantastic new theatre tent is suitably quiet to allow for ‘proper’ theatre, as opposed to just out-and-out comedy (which is catered for elsewhere).

It’s great to see the RSC engaging with Latitude, and the ensemble certainly isn’t second-rate. But despite the goodwill atmosphere of last night’s capacity crowd, my feeling is that they should stick to what they’re best at to really warrant the queues.

– by Theo Bosanquet

Sunday 3pm

I’d echo what Theo said about Angelus Diablo. There were some nice moments, and the device of using a mixture of actor plants and actual audience members as “innocent members of the public” worked well. But the concept felt lazy and cynical so ultimately it wasn’t a very satisfying hour’s entertainment.

I’ve been enjoying the small theatrical happenings taking place in the Faraway Forest, an area of the festival site that’s new this year. The Dialogue Project’s Intimate Conversations, where punters are given an MP3 player loaded with half a dozen conversations between creator Karl James and various ordinary people, was entrancing. Each year the topic of the conversations changes and this year it’s sex. One might expect lewdness from such a subject – either that or sentimentality – but in fact, the tone of these interviews was so gentle and honest that I was almost moved to tears. You can listen to this year’s conversations, as well as those from previous years, at www.thedialogueproject.com – I recommend finding a quiet place to do so. You’re unlikely to find anywhere as charming as beneath the canopy in the Faraway Forest, but don’t let that put you off.

– by Jo Caird

A few months ago, I had the chance to interview Tania Harrison, arts programmer/curator of all things non-musical at Latitude. Tania was just a little bit excited to announce that she’d persuaded cult stand-up/storyteller Daniel Kitson to perform at this year’s festival. Both solo in the theatre tent and alongside his singer/songwriter pal Gavin Osborn on the waterfront, reviving their Regent’s Park open air show, Stories for a Starlit Sky. As Harrison simply put it: “Daniel Kitson is Latitude.”

Judging by the crowd at Friday’s nights waterfront performance she was right. By the time Kitson and Osborn settled into their armchairs at midnight, both banks of the lake were already full to capacity. And what followed was as magical as we have come to expect from this genuinely cult figure. Testament to Kitson’s storytelling abilities that in simply reading from a book – no gimmicks, no set, no costumes – he had the no-doubt cider-addled festival crowd engrossed for a full hour.

Friday’s story was the tale of Eric and Jenny, night workers in The Department of Romantic Love responsible for recording and filing every last flurry and flutter of the human heart. Classic Kitson territory and wonderfully counterbalanced by Osborn’s whimsical tales of love at the checkout in Sainsbury’s and suchlike. Many people started the hour standing. By the end, everyone was seated, Kitson’s storytelling spell well and truly cast.

There might not have been a happy ending to the tale but this bedtime story could not be beaten.

– by Nancy Groves 

7pm

Despite a couple of underwhelming experiences in the Theatre Arena yesterday, I’m feeling good about festival drama again, thanks to Theatre 503′s PLAYlist. Director Derek Bond presented us with six (I think) playlets, each inspired by a song by a Latitude headliner and each lasting no longer than 15 minutes. Some succeeded better than others – some cliched dialogue let down one about a couple’s break-up, and I found the continued focus on young people’s experiences a little narrow – but as a whole, the piece was engaging and offered some jewels of funny new writing. This was festival theatre done right: plays short enough to allow punters to come and go as they pleased, at a quality high enough that in the end, everyone was kept happy for the duration. Well done Theatre 503. 

– by Jo Caird

Back in London, mentioning that I’ve been to Latitude inevitably evokes comments about the shocking story that has overshadowed this year’s festival – the rape of two teenage girls on the festival site.

I don’t agree with the comment that Latitude is “not the sort of festival” where this happens, because I don’t think any festival could be branded as one where it does. But I suppose what people mean is that Latitude has a more family-orientated demographic (or, as one band member put it on Saturday, “f***ing tea drinkers”), than the likes of Glastonbury or Reading.

It’s been sad to hear of girls being asked not to walk alone in the woods at night, because the woods are the one place you should be heading as the darkness falls at Latitude. I fear 2010 will be remembered as the year that Latitude lost its innocence.

The theatre tent appears to have become a victim of its own success, and I think I speak for most theatre-lovers in attendance when I say that it was frustrating to miss out on so much due to lack of capacity. Audiences have shown their appetite for theatre at the festival, and now the organisers need to consider allowing it a wider airing.

But the quality continues to rise year on year, and the calibre of companies taking part is beginning to rival the likes of Edinburgh and Manchester. Credit for this goes not least to arts programmer Tania Harrison, who has managed to create a cultural bazaar with a head-spinning range of options, from agit-prop by the Liverpool Everyman to a waterfront performance of Hair.

“Let the Sunshine” indeed. Roll on 2011.

– by Theo Bosanquet