Three games in and we’ve crossed the halfway
point. There are three teams still in with a shout: France, England and
Ireland. With only France still on course for a grand slam – their first since
2010 – the pressure may be highest on them? They also, arguably, have the
hardest finish: Scotland at Murrayfield and Ireland at home. England, with
Wales at home and then Italy will be happy with that and with where they are,
finally. Losing to France and then scraping past - albeit deservedly - Scotland
in hurricane conditions, they haven’t been particularly impressive but their
first half showing, in particular, against Ireland on Saturday, was ominous. A
juggernaut of power and pace and strong, confrontational defence that the men
in green couldn’t withstand. Ireland looked out of sorts for much of the game,
though very few teams, if any, would have fared better, particularly in that
first half. Ireland though still in with a chance in the championship have
played well in just one game: against the Welsh. Only obdurate defence and
Stuart Hogg’s unfortunate dropping the ball over the line - when a try was
certain - helped them beat Scotland and based on Saturday, England are in a far
better place. Ireland like Wales, with a new coach, are in transition and it
may take a season for them to get back on track. They’re clearly not the power
they were a year or two ago. The Welsh have played some decent attacking rugby
and have great spirit and some class players, but they’re missing two British
Lions, Jonathon Davies and Liam Williams, and they won’t be too cocky about
their chances at Twickenham, I suspect. They will as always, however, make
England work for it.
France have certainly been the most exciting and
most impressive overall. Arguably riding their luck against the Welsh on
Saturday, they nevertheless look very dangerous with an added determination
which has been missing for much of the last ten years. When I first started
watching rugby in the eighties, ‘French flair’ was a byword. Swashbuckling and
dynamic, they played the game like no-one else. In more recent decades, that
has been replaced by one dimensional, dullsville rugby and mental fragility.
The press, of course, are hyping up this new French team, the English press
that is. We'll see in two games time. Certainly, if they do win the slam it
would be a welcome change and they’ve played some great rugby. It’s hard to see
Scotland beating them based on the matches so far, but if Scotland manage to
harness their obvious talent and stop making multiple errors that would
embarrass a ten-year-old, it won’t be a walkover at Murrayfield. Scotland have
stalled in the last year, with the Finn Russell saga the icing in the cake.
Having him back against the French would be exceptional but it seems politics
and principle are more important to the SRU than having their best team on the
field. In any case, we still don’t know how good the French are. We’ll know in
a couple of weeks, I suspect. Ireland, after that, won’t be easy either, but
the French must secretly fancy their chances. For all teams, arguably Italy
most of all, still winless after twenty-five games in the six nations, there’s
still all to play for.
A few words for Cyrano De Bergerac starring James
McAvoy at the London Playhouse that I saw last week on a film screen at the
Everyman cinema. This is becoming a popular and fine way of seeing live
theatre, not quite in the flesh, but close enough and in comfort. Cyrano,
written by Edmond Rostand in 1897, was made most famous, for us non-French at
least, by Steve Martin in the late eighties in ‘Roxanne’. Prior to that, the
name Bergerac, for me, at least, conjured up images of that programme with the
boring detective guy from Jersey and the iconic if cheesy theme tune. Although,
I don't know, if may be classic TV? Anyway, Cyrano De Bergerac is a romantic
tragicomedy. Essentially a story of unrequited love; of three men all of whom
are in love with one woman, Roxanne. Cyrano of course, who worships her in
secret and happens to be her cousin, Christian a young, pretty boy soldier and
De Guiche, a powerful and influential army-man, too. She falls for Christian -
the handsome nincompoop - and in one of literature's most enticing scenes of
'dramatic irony', makes love to him after being seduced by the words of none
other than Cyrano himself. She marries Christian only to be ultimately widowed
soon after and perhaps not even sure that she ever loved him. Realizing to her
– and our – great regret, a little too late, that Cyrano loved her all along,
these themes are, of course, timeless. A play written, however, entirely in
French verse, is a less easy sell to a modern audience, especially a non-French
one. The writer and director are therefore to be commended in this brave and
imaginative adaptation. James McAvoy, playing the renowned poet and fighter –
within the play that is, he’s still a character from literature that should be
better known I believe, to the public - with a confrontational Glaswegian
intensity interspersed with tenderness and humour, dominates proceedings. He
also manages to incorporate the need to be an outsider that characterises the
part. A refusal to compromise, no matter the price to his own happiness. Having
dispensed with the famously monstrous nose that haunts Cyrano, it is, at times,
is a little far-fetched to believe that this guy who is after all, a
charismatic movie star, is so insecure, but his performance is honest and
powerful. And such is the style of this version - minimalist and quite dark in
tone, much of the time - a huge false hooter would perhaps have been too much?
How about a tiny..? Well, anyway…
This update makes no bones about what it
is; A contemporary, in-your-face and sharp - with lots of diversity boxes
ticked, shall we say - exploration of language, love, sexual and identity
politics. At times, for me, that polemical and politicized approach got in the
way of the story, but nevertheless it was thought-provoking and challenging and
that is perhaps the best thing an update of a classic can do? As someone who
studied the play at university and who loves the film with Gerald Depardieu
from 1990 - I watch it literally about once a month - I was bound to be a
little stuck in my ways, but hopefully for people who are less familiar it may
encourage them to read the original or at least check out the aforesaid film.
If seeing it for the first time, I definitely would and that’s the greatest
compliment I can perhaps pay it.
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