Latest news with #Falstaff
Telegraph
10-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
The Merry Wives of Windsor: Reinventing Falstaff – as a bit of a catch
Sean Holmes 's revival of the c1597 Falstaff spin-off reputedly written at Elizabeth I's request (she wanted to see the fat knight in love after watching Henry IV Part I) is lucid, edited for swiftness and offers those seeking some light relief at Shakespeare's Globe a dependable, if basic outing – possibly, on a balmy evening, a blissful one. The casting of new Globe favourite George Fouracres in the plum role of Falstaff – who bids to woo two middle-class Windsor ladies, Mistresses Ford and Page, for pecuniary gain, only to be humiliated and become the town laughing-stock – should be the production's biggest selling-point. The inconvenient truth, though, is that while the talented Black Country comedian and actor gives us a novel slant – he's a younger, more sprightly and more appealing Falstaff than usual, eschewing hoary, roly-poly caricature – he doesn't fully dominate proceedings as you'd hope; the supporting cast often garner the belly-laughs. The problem with trying to do something different with what can look like a proto-sitcom – with its scheming women, stereotyped Frenchman, bevy of dim-wits and plus-sized buffoon at its centre – is that you risk contradicting the running joke at Falstaff's expense. 'This whale, with so many tuns of oil in his belly…' sneers Mistress Ford, on reading his duplicitous (nay duplicated) love-letter, allying herself with Mistress Page against 'this greasy knight' (elsewhere he is 'this old fat fellow'). When Fouracres says 'Indeed I am in the waist two yards about', it's as if the character's self-delusion has flipped and he's over-exaggerating his portliness. Something of a chancer, and charmer, he's actually seen as hot stuff by Katherine Pearce's lusty Mistress Ford, who can't keep her hands off him or resist a snog. It's a moderately interesting avenue to explore, lending ambivalence to her instinct to punish him, and a grain of truth to her husband's obsessive jealousy. At the end, you see real desperation in this trapped housewife. Still, it feels like a cul-de-sac; there's only so much depth you can apply to a play that glories in shallowness, its barbs and badinage a riot of daftness. The set-piece humiliations, in which Falstaff, fearing discovery, buries himself inside a laundry basket, and disguises himself as the 'fat woman of Brentford', plus the climactic drubbing in the forest, are entertainingly rendered – with a surprising edge to the knockabout violence. But weighed against the grandeur of Falstaff's past – especially Roger Allam's Olivier-winning performance in a Globe Henry IV – Fouracres has been prematurely propelled into the role; his roguish performance feels rather run-of-the-mill. Bringing some vital added colour to the scene – rather neutered and socially hazy thanks to a tasteful, floral set-design that resembles an outbreak of William Morris wrapping-paper – there are notable turns from Emma Pallant, glinting with mischief as Mistress Page, Jolyon Coy as the insatiably suspicious Ford, and Samuel Creasey as the pompous Welsh parson Evans. Eminently suitable for tourists, fitfully it soars. But Holmes has done better here and it falls short of being a summer sensation for all.
Evening Standard
10-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Evening Standard
The Merry Wives of Windsor at Shakespeare's Globe: rare London revival is a treat
Fouracres is funny to his bones and knows how to work the Globe's groundling audience, though weirdly he throws away one of my favourite one-liners in the entire Complete Works. Falstaff, having been carried away in a laundry basket under the nose of Mistress Ford's jealous husband and dumped in the Thames, declines the offer of an egg in a warming cup of fortified wine with the words 'I'll no pullet sperm in my brewage'. Oh well.
The Guardian
25-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Michael Ratcliffe obituary
Michael Ratcliffe, who has died aged 89, was the former theatre critic of the Observer. He was one of the last of the 'man of letters' breed of journalist who encompassed all the arts, with experience, erudition and a regard for the great tradition, especially in Europe, but an open, expansive and always analytical attitude to innovation. Most of his work was that of a literary editor and critic. When I read his reviews as chief book reviewer on the Times for a decade in the 1970s, I could not believe there was one person writing these extraordinary short essays across every topic, week in, week out. In this respect, he was a latter-day Philip Toynbee, or Anthony Burgess. He was not a sprinter, nor a marathon runner as a critic, but a superb middle-distance performer. His only full-length book was the completion (following the author's death) of The Bodley Head 1887-1987 (1987), a centenary history of the publishers of Graham Greene, Muriel Spark and Maurice Sendak, written by his editorial colleague in his Sunday Times years JW Lambert. Ratcliffe had previously published a volume, The Novel Today (1968), for the British Council. Those years on the Sunday Times (1962-67) and the Times (as literary editor, then chief book reviewer, 1967-82) were followed by more than a decade at the Observer, where he was theatre critic from 1984 to 1989 and literary editor from 1990 to 1995. He wore his authority lightly. As a critic, he was perhaps under the radar, not necessarily the best place to be. But that was because of his innate modesty. His manner was serene, almost episcopal in his stately, unflamboyant carriage and expression. And his voice was as sturdily baritonal as that of any celebrated singer. You only have to read his deeply felt, lacerating and informed reviews of, say, Martin Amis's The Information (1995), Penelope Fitzgerald's The Blue Flower (1995) and Robert Nye's Falstaff (1976) – hailed as 'one of the most ambitious and seductive novels of the decade' – to know you are in the hands of someone you can trust, enjoy and then argue with. His prose style was fluid and unshowy, decked with pointed cross-references and illuminating comparisons. In the theatre of the 80s he was conspicuously supportive of such outstanding new companies as Cheek By Jowl, directed by Declan Donnellan and his designer partner Nick Ormerod, and of Mike Alfreds' Shared Experience. Both were small-scale operations that prospered widely because of his championship, becoming hugely influential. And he saw, and wrote about, Peter Brook's sensational production of The Mahabharata (1985) four times over three years – in a quarry near Avignon, at the Bouffes du Nord in Paris, in Brooklyn, New York, and in Glasgow, where it launched an exciting new arts space in the former Museum of Transport – aligning the work with all manner of previous cultural emanations. His last published writing was a magisterial obituary of Brook in this paper in 2022. He was also an unswerving admirer of Stephen Sondheim, writing incisive, penetrating programme notes and interviews over the years, occasionally dining with him in New York, too. On the other hand, he wasn't mad about 'rock opera', describing Les Misérables (wrongly, in my view) as 'a witless and synthetic entertainment'. This was perhaps surprising, given his immersion in European music and theatre – he was made an officer of the German federal order of merit in 2003 for his attention to, and coverage of, German theatre – but he responded more full-heartedly to the European plays of Tom Stoppard and Christopher Hampton. He admired the latter's wonderful Tales from Hollywood (1983) – about the émigré writers in Hollywood after the fall of Vienna in 1938: Brecht, Heinrich Mann, the ghost of Ödön von Horváth – 'an ability to assimilate quantities of documentary material and animate them into shapely dramatic life'. Michael was born in Cheadle Hulme, Manchester, the elder son of Joyce (nee Dilks), a pianist trained at the Royal College of Music, and Donald Ratcliffe, a bank manager. He was educated at Cheadle Hulme school and Christ's College, Cambridge, where he studied modern history. After working in the late 50s as a supply teacher in Manchester, he was a trainee journalist on the Sheffield Telegraph (1958-61) before joining the Sunday Times in 1962 as assistant arts and literary editor to Lambert. He moved to the Times in 1967 as literary editor for 10 years, continuing in 1972 for another 10 as chief book reviewer, before joining the Observer in 1984. In 1971, he met Howard Lichterman, a statistician and subsequently marketing executive at the Welsh National Opera and English National Opera, who had arrived from his native city of New York with a list of contacts who might help him promulgate his artistic enthusiasms. He and Michael lived together from that year on, and when Howard, with Richard Barran, formed the specialist tour company London Arts Discovery Tours in 1981, their lives were even more professionally entwined. Michael was a regular guest for the critic sessions with visiting Americans and led tours as a guide in some of his favourite cities – Budapest, Paris, Vienna and Berlin. His knowledge of the cultural high spots and the venues of musical, theatrical and operatic premieres was faultless. And of course he could speak of the works themselves. His many outstanding essays included a contribution to the sumptuous British Theatre Design: The Modern Age (1989), edited by John Goodwin, in which he said 'the 80s classical British theatre moved from leather to garbage, towards conspicuous consumption, architectural grandeur and a kind of magpie, eclectic resourcefulness'; and, in Prospect magazine in 1996, a definitive assessment of gay fiction from Edmund White to Alan Hollinghurst in its social and historical context. Michael and Howard – they formed a civil partnership in 2006 and married in 2015 – travelled often to their favourite spots such as Lake Como and Salzburg (for the music festival), lived in London at first in Westbourne Grove, then Islington and latterly in Clerkenwell. He is survived by Howard. His younger brother, Richard, predeceased him. John Michael Ratcliffe, theatre critic and literary editor, born 15 June 1935; died 14 March 2025
Telegraph
11-03-2025
- Telegraph
Savour Spain's gastronomic island
Tenerife might not be the first Spanish destination that springs to mind for food and drink, but to locals and those in the know, the island has had an incredible and innovative food scene for centuries. A new generation of chefs has also brought a fresh look to classic Canarian cuisine, using produce from the bountiful island and the bracing Atlantic Ocean that surrounds it, and Tenerife now has 10 Michelin stars across eight restaurants. Wine is also big business on the island, and you'll spot vineyards as much as you will banana plantations as you travel the diverse Tinerfeño landscape. 'Farewell, my hearts: I will to my honest knight Falstaff, and drink Canary with him,' says The Host in Shakespeare's The Merry Wives of Windsor. He's referring to Canary sack, a sweet wine that was produced in La Orotava valley in the north of Tenerife back in the 1500s. The bard himself was a big fan and supposedly had a barrel of Canary wine written into his contract. Wine has been produced in Tenerife for centuries, since the Spanish brought vines to the island in the 15th century. Taste the volcano These days the wines are less fortified, and Tenerife's volcanic terroir paired with native grape varieties means that bottles are much prized around the globe. In La Orotava, you'll spot grape vines growing in the cordón trenzado method, where they're braided in long horizontal rows to make the most of the sunshine. Bodegas Suertes del Marqués has been the driving force behind the modern Canarian wine scene, putting it once again on the international stage. Most wineries offer visits and tastings, but try Bodegas Tajinaste for wines made from the native listán negro grapes that often produce flavours of sour cherry, raspberries and black pepper. On the opposite side of the mountain near Arafo, you'll find one of the island's highest vineyards, Bodegas Ferrera at more than 1,000m above sea level, whose naturally sweet marmajuelo white wine with notes of melon and grapefruit shouldn't be missed. For a true taste of the island's viticultural prowess, make a pilgrimage to La Casa del Vino in the idyllic town of El Sauzal, where some of the island's best wines can be paired with stunning views of the Atlantic. It's because of wine that Tenerife can possibly claim the idea of the first pop-up restaurants. Known as guachinches, these rustic canteens have been cropping up for decades at the end of the wine harvest each September. Vineyards create cheap and cheerful eating spots in their barns, garages and sheds and serve simple Canarian cuisine, such as grilled meat, fried cheese, and papas arrugadas (salty baby potatoes served with either red pepper or coriander mojo sauces) along with their own wines. There are restrictions on how long these makeshift restaurants can be open, but if you're around the north of the island in autumn you'll often spot handmade signs on the side of the road pointing out a nearby guachinche. Mar y montaña – sea and mountains Good-quality produce has always been a staple of Tinerfeño gastronomy, and you'll find weekly agricultural markets across the island. Head to the capital Santa Cruz de Tenerife on a weekend and you'll find the covered municipal market known as La Recova. Here there are stalls selling fabulous Canarian cheeses, often made from goat's milk, as well as fresh fruit, wines, honey rum, meat and seafood. Venture downstairs to the fish and seafood section and watch as the merchants carefully select, prepare and serve a plethora of shellfish to hungry patrons – often swilled down with a local sparkling wine. At nearby La Hierbita restaurant you can feast on local dishes such as garbanzada (chickpea stew), cherne (wreckfish, which tastes a bit like cod), and carne fiesta (herby, spiced pork) along with a comprehensive list of local wines. You'll find versions of these dishes and ingredients served up in many of the Michelin-starred restaurants on the island. At Haydée – soon to be reopening in the Gran Tacande Hotel – chef Victor Suárez puts a unique twist on classic Canarian with plates such as oysters with banana kimchi, and rabbit tartlet with salmorejo (a traditional marinade of oregano, bay, garlic and more). Elsewhere, husband-and-wife team Andrea and Fernanda use their Italian and Chilean roots to create their signature tasting menus at Nub at Bahía del Duque resort. With dishes such as corn crème brûlée, with aged onion and herb ceviche, it's little wonder that the Michelin inspectors are consistently impressed. Tenerife beyond the beach With multiple airlines flying direct to Tenerife from the UK every day, it's time to find out more, plan your travel and book your trip with the Tenerife Tourism Corporation
CBS News
24-02-2025
- Entertainment
- CBS News
Duo the owl mascot revived. Duolingo declares, "legends never die."
The owl mascot for Pittsburgh-based Duolingo is not dead after all, according to social media posts by the organization. At least two posts appeared on the company's social media accounts on Monday, declaring "Legends never die" and "Duo is back." y'all really think i'd let a cybertruck take me out? #duolingohasrisen — Duolingo (@duolingo) February 24, 2025 The green owl has become a memeable internet sensation for the way some users of the language learning app think he threatens them to do their lessons. Over the last two weeks, Duolingo has posted multiple times to their social media accounts mourning Duo and their other cast of characters, including Falstaff the bear. Duo said, "faking my death was the test and you all passed." Turns out, Duo's death may have just been a ploy to get Duolingo users back on the app to do their language lessons. In a social media post last week, the company said 50 billion XP, or learning points, were needed to revive the owl. And that's just what happened as thousands returned to their language learning lessons to collectively bring the mascot back to life. The saga of Duo's reported death The saga began on Feb. 11 with an "important announcement" from the company posted to the social media platform X. "It is with heavy hearts that we inform you that Duo, formally known as The Duolingo Owl, is dead," the statement read. Duolingo said "authorities" were investigating his cause of death and the company was cooperating. "Tbh, he probably died waiting for you to do your lesson, but what do we know," the statement said. "We are aware he had many enemies, but we kindly ask that you refrain from sharing why you hate him in the comments. If you feel inclined to share, please also include your credit card number so we can automatically sign you up for Duolingo Max in his memory." In a statement to KDKA-TV, a spokesperson confirmed that Duo is in fact dead as part of a brand marketing campaign. The plot thickened a day later when Duolingo posted a video to social media asking for help identifying the driver of a Tesla Cybertruck that hit the owl mascot in a parking lot, launching it up into the sky and apparently past the gates of hell. "Please post any leads on Twitter," Duolingo wrote, adding, "Thank you for your patience with us during these trying times." Duolingo says it has embraced a "wholesome and unhinged" brand tone after its green owl mascot turned into an internet sensation. "Our mascot was initially designed to encourage regular practice. But once the internet got their hands on him, he grew into a more complicated — even menacing — character with his own lore. He's still cute and cuddly. But he's also willing to temporarily relocate your family to ensure you finish your lessons," the company wrote in its handbook.
