As I am writing this, the BAFTA awards are on the TV. It looks like a homage to The King's Speech, which was brilliant but it is a pity it takes away any chances from other equally good films. But what really strikes me is the inability of actors to present the nominations. All they have to do is come up on the stage and read the script. But this is exactly what they do – reading it woodenly and making forced jokes.
Yet another play about climate change on London stage opened last week. The Heretic at the Royal Court tells a story of a sceptic scientist at a provincial university. The tensions within the department about her beliefs and a possible funding from pro-climate change corporation are mixed with the family drama and young students' concerns. So there is a case for a great show, especially with Juliet Stevenson in the main role. But the jokes are lame, the other actors are rather weak and static and most of the science on stage is a fairy tale.
Even higher expectations were for Frankenstein at the National. The adaptation of Mary Shelley's book is directed by Danny Boyle and the cast includes one of my favourites, Benedict Cumberbatch. I saw a preview in which Cumberbatch was playing The Creature (the role is alternated with Johny Lee Miller who was in Frankenstein's shoes that night). He was mesmerising, especially in the opening scene where the monster was given birth. Unfortunately, his performance alone didn't save the night, as nearly everything else was terrible! Other actors were rubbish, decorations simplistic and the narrative beyond boring, although the lighting was fantastic! Also this week: a brief visit to the British Museum and a confusing visit looking for art in the Gabriel Orozco exhibition at the Tate Modern.
