Legally Blonde the Musical, Starring Sheridan Smith

I have never seen Legally Blonde the film, nor do I have any particular desire to do so, but when I heard the hype around Legally Blonde the Musical, I was intrigued to see what all the fuss was about. In fact it was Ant who first suggested we go and see it in the West End, having read Stephen Fry's enthusastic Twitter review. Of course I couldn't even consider going to such a thing without my dear pal and fellow lover of musicals, Damien. It took us the best part of year to get our arses in gear to get tickets and go up to Town, but last night we finally made it. 

After all the months of anticipation, the three of us were giddy to the point of hysteria when we met up at Brighton station yesterday lunchtime. Our excitement continued throughout the day as we made the most of the trip by taking in the René Gruau exhibition at Somerset House and indulging in a spot of window shopping around Covent Garden. After a bite to eat at my favourite little Moroccan haunt and drinks next door at the wondferfully rustic Beaujolais, we were just about fit to burst.

One of the most lauded things about the West End production of Legally Blonde the Musical is its current leading lady, Sheridan Smith. Having never seen Two Pints of Lager...  or indeed any of her other noted TV or stage performances, I had no expectations either way, but was duly impressed by her sparkling performance as Elle Woods. The rest of the cast were equally outstanding, giving it their all from start to finish and clearly relishing every bonkers minute of it. Someone else whose musical career has so far evaded me is Denise van Outen, who recently joined Legally Blonde as the hapless hairdresser Paulette. She, too, was surprisingly accomplished; I had no idea she could sing so well.

Of course I'd anticipated high camp and energetic dance numbers, but wasn't quite prepared for the bizarre, almost magical-realism dimension to the production (Riverdance? Talking dogs? WTF?). It was unashamedly and zealously inhabiting the World of Musicals and all the insane poetic license it allows. It was also genuinely very funny (think Glee/Sondheim-esque New York-Jewish humour) and at even  at times, moving. And I LOVED it. As I glanced either side of me at Damien and Ant's beaming faces, I could tell they did too. Feeling thoroughly entertained, we giggled and grinned all the way home (via a nightcap at my old student hang out the Retro Bar).

I defy anyone but the most cynical anti-musicalites not to enjoy Legally Blonde the Musical, and would especially recommended  it to anyone in need of a pick-me-up. The charming Sheridan Smith will only be in it for another few months, so hurry.

The Grand Glee Finale: End of Act One

Warning: Luvvie Alert (if you have have an aversion to campery or showbiz of any kind, you may as well stop reading right now. If however you are fond of a showtune or two, or like me, are a fan of Glee, welcome to the party...)

Since I first raved about it back in January, Glee has become my only must-watch TV show (oh, OK, there's Mad Men too), providing wry satire and sparkling musical entertainment every Monday night, which, I think you'll agree, is just what Mondays needed. Like any long-running series, it's had its occasional 'nothing much is happening this week' episodes and a few ill-conceived or just plain vomit-inducing musical numbers. But on the whole it's been first-rate.

We've followed the ever more complicated fates of a group of High School misfits and their equally troubled teachers as they prepare for Glee Club sectionals, an inter-school musical performance competition traditional in America. We've wondered who will end up with who, whether the club will survive its many slapstick bust-ups and whether they will make it through to the next stage of the competition.

There's decent eye-candy in the form of mohicaned bad-boy Noah 'Puck' Puckerman (or pretty boy Finn Hudson if that's your thing), but the undisputed comedy star of the show is cranky sports teacher and cheerleader coach Sue Sylvester, whose cutting one-liner comebacks are legendary. My favourite from this week's episode: "You'll be adding revenge to the long list of things you're no good at, right next to being married, running a high school glee club and finding a hairstyle that doesn't look like a lesbian." Genius.

The highlight of each episode for me is invariably the big showstopper number, generally performed by the group or two main characters in the midst of a poignant storyline. The episodes that fall flat are always those in which they get the showstopper wrong. Thankfully for the mid season finale this week, they got it very very right with a magical rendition of 'Don't Rain on My Parade' from Funny Girl:

As someone who performed in many musicals as a youngster and harboured aspirations towards professional singing, I was right there with (the talented but irritatingly fame-obsessed) Rachel as she stole the show at the Glee Club competition sectionals. Her heartfelt performance perfectly encapsulated the hunger and drive I so vividly remember experiencing as a teenager treading the boards; it was thrilling, infectious and rousing - bringing back a rush of teenage yearnings.

Both Ant and I have been humming the tune ever since and going back to watch this video of said performance to re-experience the tingling sensation all over again. It was so powerful that I can't even recall what the other songs in the episode were. Now that's what I call showbiz.

If you are still reading and have yet to experience Glee for yourself, you can catch up on the last few episodes via 4oD, or order the DVD from Amazon.

Leaving January Behind with Glee

I don't know about you, but I can't wait for January to be over and done with. It's not been a bad month exactly, just a completely uneventful and torpid one; I've barely socialised since New Year's Eve and what with the bank balance recovering after Christmas excesses, there hasn't even been a decent retail therapy session to perk me up. The most exciting thing to happen was the snow and even that turned out to be a royal pain in the arse once the initial novelty wore off. But now as the first month of the year draws to a close, the invitations are starting to trickle in for February and March, giving me something more diverting to look forward to and I am willing away the last dreary days.

There really has been so little going on these past few weeks that I've been carving through the DVD box sets (24 series 6, Six Feet Under series 3) at an unprecedented rate and even getting hooked on current TV shows - like the outstandingly entertaining Glee. For most of the year I barely turn on the TV except to watch films and haven't been bothered enough about anything lately to get into watching it religiously, but for Glee I make an exception. On first glance you might presume it to be a schmaltzy High School Musical wannabe, but actually it veers much more towards being a parody of such cheese-fests. To me it is also enormously nostalgic, since I was a member of the UK equivalent of High School Glee Club and the politics and histrionics take me right back. Even Ant, who is not a fan of musicals or American teen drama, is enjoying it immensely. If you have yet to catch on, you can catch up via 4oD - it's well worth it, honestly.

While we're on the subject of TV highlights, this week saw the return of the glorious Mad Men - an altogether different, but equally compelling affair. I have yet to watch episode one and am dying to discover how things will pan out following season 2's tumultuous ending. Will Betty take her incorrigible gigolo of a husband back? Will the frocks be even more fabulous than last series? Who will have an affair with who? How will I ever cope with having to wait a whole week between episodes? In fact I'd better stop writing and settle down for my fix right now. See you in February, when I will hopefully have more to talk about than what's on the box.

Witches of Eastwick, Congress Theatre Eastbourne

When I saw that Witches of Eastwick the musical starring Marti Pellow was coming to Eastbourne, I knew I must organise an excursion, and it didn't take much persuasion to muster a gang from amongst my more theatrically-minded friends. Seven of us - three gay guys and four girls, rocked up at the Congress last Wednesday night, all strangely giddy in anticipation. All apart from my mum, everyone was of an age to recall Pellow's superstar peak as lead singer of Wet Wet Wet, and though none of us were even particularly big fans at the time, they were one of the biggest home-grown groups of our impressionable childhood years.

Despite being familiar with its star, I didn't know the show at all, and can't remember having seen the 80s film version, though I feel I must have done at some point. The plot didn't exactly hold any big surprises, but it was an entertaining couple of hours nonetheless. After a spirited and colourfully-costumed opening chorus number, the three leading ladies drew us into a magical mood with the spookily wishful 'Make Him Mine'. Conjured by the trio's accidental summoning, Pellow appeared soon after as the self-assured sleazemeister Darryl Van Horne - a character that clearly comes easily to him. Compared to the three 'witches', all of whom were excellent, Pellow's performance seemed conspicuously stiff, and his dialogue often gabbled. But songs such as 'Dance with the Devil' proved that the boy can still belt a tune, and he bounced around the stage with an admirable amount of energy. He certainly got the seal of approval from the gay contingent of our party, as they mock-fanned themselves, mouthing "I would" to each other; even one of the girls (and no, it wasn't me) professed to having developed a crush by the end. Though he doesn't really do it for me, I have to admit he's in pretty good shape for a middle-aged ex-junkie.

I wouldn't put Witches of Eastwick up there with my all-time favourite musicals (e.g. Sweeney Todd, Wicked, Hedwig), but it was a good fun night out, and nice to be back on home turf with some of my all-time favourite people. Let's do it again soon, Ladies.

Into the Woods at the Gatehouse

One of my all-time favourite musicals, Into the Woods first came to my attention back in the early 90s, when the Broadway production starring Bernadette Peterswas televised. I've watched that version many times over, and know the London cast recordingoff by heart, but had only ever seen a bad amateur production live on stage. As is often the way with Sondheim, the combination of subtle dark humour and a complex score makes Into the Woods a challenging prospect for even the most talented professional company, and when I heard it was to be revived on the London Fringe, it was with a certain degree of trepidation that I booked tickets.

Last night was the penultimate performance of the 2008/9 revival, and we trekked all the way up to Highgate (via the British Museum) to see it. The main reason we went was to support my good friend Dominic Brewer (pictured here on the left), whose performance as the Baker has earned rave reviews. Dom and I worked at Waterstone's together in 1998/99, and bonded over our mutual propensity to burst into song at any opportunity, particularly during booze-fuelled Christmas shopping evenings. He's been a jobbing actor for a few years now, but I hadn't seen him in a lead role since he went professional. The Baker and his wife are the central characters in this clever ensemble piece, crossing paths with other fairy tale characters in the woods during their desperate quest to reverse a family curse placed upon them by a malevolent witch.

The Gatehouse production breathed new life into an established musical, resisting the temptation to emulate previous interpretations (which is exactly what made the aforementioned amateur one so painful). I was so overjoyed to hear beautiful diction all round and not a trace of that Americanised singing which so often infuriates me in West End shows these days. Very wisely, they had stripped out some of the weaker songs, and kept the dialogue zipping along so that it never dragged. I'm not just saying this because he's a mate, but Dominic gave a storming performance alongside his opposite, played by Rachel Bingham. The on-stage chemistry between them was electric, and despite knowing the score so well, I was regularly moved by their very individual and fresh delivery. Even Ant, who had been initially reluctant to see the show again, came away genuinely impressed and enthused; it had been a brilliant and memorable evening's entertainment.

This One's for You, Dear Craig

After a stupidly prolonged absence, I finally made my grand return to the stage last night. I had been putting it off for one reason or another (studying, working, commuting etc) and it took a little push from a friend to get me back in the saddle, so to speak. I was performing at the Hailsham Pavilion as part of a charity concert organised by the gorgeous (and talented) Natalie, in memory of her dad and our mutual friend Craig, both of whom died before their time. As I was standing in the wings, waiting to give my all in their honour, I thought back to the first time I met Craig, when we were cast opposite one another as the lead roles in The Pajama Game, back in 1993. We hit it off straight away, sharing a mutually mischevious sense of humour that made rehearsals a scream, and were soon firm friends. It was a joy to perform alongside him in that show, and the others that followed. I'd always hoped we'd get to do a turn together again one day, but it wasn't to be, as Craig died of brain cancer in 2005, aged just 30.

It was an emotional and heartfelt occasion for so many reasons. All of the adult performers had either been in shows with, or were friends of, Craig and/or David (Nat's dad), and the audience included lots of old friends and family of both men. It was also the first time my mum and I had been on stage together since we did Annie about 25 years ago! She was compering the show, and a did a grand job, without the aid of a microphone. I was slightly perturbed at having to use a hand-held mic, something I've never done before. I don't think I really needed it in such a little venue, but our sound man wanted to make sure all the singers were level. My first appearance was a duet ('For Good' from Wicked) with Natalie, which closed the first half. In the second half I had my solo spot, singing 'Hymne a l'Amour' (in English), originally recorded by Edith Piaf. This was especially emotional, as it followed straight on from a very moving performance from 10 year old Gus, singing an original composition written in memory of Craig by his ex-boyfriend, Michael England.

Me singing 'Hymne a L'Amour' (filmed by Ant from row G)

For the finale, everyone piled on stage to sing 'Seasons of Love' from Rent - not one of my favourite musicals, but Craig loved it, so we gave it our all for him and the sentiment rang true. Belting out a ridiculously high note at the end, I looked skywards and devoted it to my dear friend - gone but never forgotten. After the show, cast members and their respective entourages piled into the pub opposite for a much-needed drink and hug-fest, congratulating Natalie on a job well done. There was also much discussion of what my next theatrical venture might be, now that I've been re-initiated. The trouble is, no one seems to be doing any shows that I fancy being in, and I'm also scared of turning up to a new society and braving the inevitable cliques. I guess I'll just have to put on my own production, casting all my friends and giving myself the juiciest part of course! Watch this space for further ponderings on this subject...

I ♥ Musicals, Deal With It

I'm not ashamed to admit that I like musicals. It's in my blood - my great-grandparents were singers in the D'oyly Carte Opera (which pretty much invented the genre of the popular musical, performing the accessible and often humorous works of Gilbert & Sullivan), and I've been in dozens of amateur productions myself. It's been a few years now since I graced the stage, but I still like to go and watch other people leaping around and expressing themselves through the medium of song now and again. Of course it doesn't always work, and there are some dodgy productions out there that drag down the good name of the musical altogether. I recently tried to watch the film of Rent on DVD and had to turn off after 20 minutes, it was such a depressingly flat affair. To me, musicals should be jolly and uplifting, or at least have a good story and some memorable songs.

The last couple of West End productions I've seen - Avenue Q and Wicked - were both brilliant, and hard acts to follow, so when the lovely Neel announced that he wanted to go and see Hairspray on his birthday, I was somewhat dubious. But going on adventures with Neel is always fun, and with a gang of 15 signed up for it, I knew we'd have a giggle even if the show wasn't all that. But as it turned out, I quite enjoyed it. Never having seen either of the films, I was oblivious to the plot, which is a good thing in itself - with so many musicals you already know what's going to happen and just have to hope that the songs are enough to keep you amused. In the case of Hairspray, it's a pretty obvious rise of the underdog tale, set in 1960s Baltimore when racial segregation was still the norm. With full marks for feel-good factor, this new production is bursting with energy and humour, with a classic performance from Michael Ball in (almost believeable) drag. I know that a lot of people find him irritating, but I have a secret soft spot for old dimple cheeks. No one could deny that he has great stage presence, and a lovely singing voice. Admittedly, he did milk some of the comedy moments a little too much, but more in the over-the-top spirit of the show than through wanton self-indulgence.

The costumes were fabulous, and made me want to get straight onto ebay and treat myself to some vintage frocks. I found myself foot-tapping (though not clapping along - why do people do that?) through lots of the songs, and can even imagine one or two of them making their way into my DJ setlist repertoire. Most of all, it was lovely to break up the week with a cultural adventure, even if it did mean braving the cattletrucks and crowded streets to get across London. It also made me feel more excited about my own imminent return to the stage this Sunday, as part of a charity concert in aid of St Wilfrid's Hospice at Hailsham Pavilion. The last I heard, there were still a few tickets left (available from 01323 841414) if anyone feels inclined to witness this *ahem* historic event.

Tights, Tapas & Torsos

As anticipated, Zorro the Musical was indeed just about the campest thing I have seen this year, and that includes pantomime and of course, the Big Gay Wedding last month. Currently previewing in Eastbourne prior to its West End run, Zorro is a lavish production with impressive sets, super costumes and lots and lots of foot-stamping flamenco numbers, set to the music of the Gipsy Kings. There's not much of a plot to speak of, and it does feel rather thinly stretched at times, especially during the easily forgettable ballady songs. But when it gets going, and the stage is filled with 30 dancers stomping along to 'Bambaleo', it's hard not to love. In eye-candy stakes, it certainly ticks the boxes - my 'date' for the night, GBF Damien was making good use of his opera glasses every time some young male-twirlie appeared in tight trousers and slashed fencing shirt, or even better, topless. The leading lady, Luisa (played by Radio 2 Musical Voice of the Year 2006 winner Aimee Atkinson), was annoyingly twee at times, but her counterpart, the fiery gypsy woman Inez (played by genuine Latino-American Lesli Margherita), more than made up for this weak link in an otherwise pretty solid cast. Zorro himself (Matt Rawle) seemed to get more and more mincing as the show went on, which is not necessarily a complaint - if anything I would have preferred uninterrupted campery to the unconvincing attempts at 'serious' drama that occasionally dragged down an otherwise stupendously silly two and a half hours.

It was nice to be back in my old stomping ground for the evening, and to drop in for a pre-theatre bite at my favourite Eastbourne eatery, Flamenco - delicious tapas and Spanish tipples seemed wonderfully in keeping with the evening's entertainments. We even popped in to say 'hi' to my mum at the Devonshire Park Theatre (without a doubt the loveliest of Eastbourne's performance venues), where she's currently working as Stage Door Keeper. While we were there, she was accosted by one of the actors from the current show, with whom it transpired she has several friends in common, including my own absentee Godfather, Tony Linford. Apparently these kind of connections happen all the time in Luvvieland, especially when you've been part of it for as long as she has. Having done a ten year stint in 'showbiz' myself, I am more than happy to remain on the other side of the curtain these days - it certainly makes theatre-going a more exciting experience anyway.

When The Cat's Away...

With the better half away Up North visiting family this week, I've been happily filling my evenings with the sort of activities that he wouldn't necessarily appreciate, and enjoying the opportunity to catch up with friends in a girlie/one-on-one context. I'll miss him of course, but I don't mind the odd week to myself every now and then. On Tuesday night, my wardrobe mistress skills were once again called upon, this time by Brian, who was wanting to become a pirate - à la Treasure Island - for the World Book Day festivities at his school. I was happy enough to oblige - pirates are easy, especially with all the leftover stuff from the recent Seasick! party. Later that same evening, I was responsible for another transformation - this time turning the lovely Harriet back into a brunette (from being a semi-blonde for the last few years) - a change which suits her immensely. Then last night I popped out to meet Jo at the Duke of York's, to see Juno - a bittersweet drama about teenage pregnancy. From the premise, you'd be forgiven for thinking it might be a tad depressing, either that or sickeningly cloying, but thankfully it's neither.

Deadpan high school misfit Juno, played by a believably adolescent looking Ellen Page (in real life she's 21), is unfortunate enough to get pregnant the first time she has sex - with her geeky running-obsessed best friend, Bleeker (Michael Cera). Seemingly taking the experience in her stride, Juno initially opts for abortion, telling the bemused father: "I'm just gonna go ahead an nip this thing in the bud. Cuz you know, they say pregnancy often leads to, you know…infants". But, perturbed by the oppressive abortion clinic ("..and the receptionist tried to get me to take these condoms that looked like grape suckers and was just babbling away about her freaking boyfriend's pie balls!"), and the idea of her foetus having fingernails already, she decides she can't go through with it, and instead sets about finding the perfect couple to adopt her baby. Predictably, all doesn't go quite to plan, but the outcome is ultimately uplifting, without being overly sentimental. We see Juno transform from flippant carefree teen to knowing young woman; and although I found myself welling up once or twice, there are also laughs-a-plenty, particularly if, like me, you dig the darker end of the humour spectrum. The quirky, stylised dialogue (see examples above)- which could have easily fallen flat in other hands - is wonderfully executed to hilarious effect by Page, not to mention an excellent supporting cast. The soundtrack is pretty cool, too.

In complete contrast, tonight I shall be going to see Zorro the Musical, on its pre-West End stint at the Congress Theatre in Eastbourne (of all places). Scored by the legendary Gipsy Kings, I'm expecting plenty of over-the-top flamenco numbers, and campery in abundance - so of course I'm taking along the GBF, who's bound to love it. Watch this space for my own thoughts on the matter...

Hurrah for the Underdog

Last night I went to see Wicked for the third time - a Halloween outing organised by the lovely Neel, and a (very) belated birthday treat from me to Jo. I shall refrain from waxing lyrical about the show itself, as I have already blogged about it excessively, but I wanted to give well-deserved a nod to Cassidy Janson - the current Elphaba understudy - who was standing in for Kerry Ellis last night. Much of the cast has changed since Wicked opened in the West End just over a year ago, when the awesome Idina Menzel stole the show in the leading role. I was delighted to witness in Janson much that was lacking from (Menzel's successor) Ellis's execution of this intimidatingly demanding part - most notably a refreshing humility which suited the underdog nature of the role. Ellis had seemed too self-consciously starry when I saw her earlier this year, and also irritated the hell out of me with her grating Americanisation of the songs. Janson managed to avoid this trap, into which many British performers seem to fall these days - for which she scores huge brownie points in my critical eyes. Her diminuitve physical presence was more than made up for by a natural stage-presence that brought the necessary weight to the complex character of the wicked (or is she?) witch. So, hurrah for the underdog... or in this case, the understudy!

Cassidy Janson singing No Good Deed from Wicked

Green is the New Black

A few months ago, I expressed my gushing enthusiasm about the new musical Wicked, which I could not wait to see. Well, the big day came along, my 31st birthday in fact, and I could hardly contain my excitement! Ant and I spent the day in London (not such a chore now I don't work there anymore), shopping for boots (we didn't find any) and had a pre-theatre dinner at Ozer, a swanky Meze place near Broadcasting House. Walking into the foyer of the Apollo Victoria was like entering the Emerald City - green walls & carpets, and the most extensive array of merchandise I've ever seen at a musical. The whole theatre has become part of the Wicked experience. I'd bought the tickets on eBay, so wasn't sure what the seats would be like, but luckily they weren't bad - half way up the dress circle, quite central.

The show itself exceeded my expectations in every way - my skin was literally prickling from the very opening chords, and I could feel Ant exuding a similar response next to me. "Good news! She's dead!" is the triumphant opening line of the chorus, referring of course to the demise of the notorius Wicked Witch of the West. Based on Gregory Maguire's novel of the same name, Stephen Schwartz's new musical presents an alternative slant on Frank L. Baum's classic The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, essentially telling the Witch's side of the story. Altogether deeper and darker than the camp-and-spangly Judy Garland film version, Wicked tackles some pretty political issues to do with power, corruption and persecution. I won't spoil the twist for anyone who doesn't know the book, or hasn't yet seen the musical themselves, as I'd only listened to the soundtrack CD before going, and hadn't quite guessed how things turned out.

We were lucky enough to see the extraordinary Idina Menzel - who created the role of the Witch on Broadway - during her limited London run as Elphaba. Her incredible stage presence seemed to ignite her fellow performers, creating an electric chemistry between the cast members. If you think you know the Wicked Witch of the West, think again. Menzel's powerful voice, statuesque physique and great comic timing have given this classic 'baddie' a long-deserved revamp. Of course, Maguire and Schwartz are also to be credited for providing the star with such inspiring material in the first place. I could go on and on about every little detail of the production, from the stunning costumes to the sensational score, but all I really want to say is "go and see it!", even if you don't normally like musicals. Wicked is unlike anything I have seen on stage before, and I can't wait to see it again.

As we boarded the train back to Brighton (sure to become the 'Wicked Express' methinks), I swear I overheard one of my fellow passengers declare "Well, I'm no friend of Dorothy anymore!" and I couldn't agree more - Long Live Elpheba...the Wicked Witch is alive and well!

Are You Wicked?

It's not often I get excited about a new musical - so many of them these days are schmulzy Lloyd-Webber or Lloyd-Webber wannabes, and there seems to be an increasing trend for translating previously unmusical films to the stage (Billy Elliot, Whistle Down the Wind, The Producers...) and adding songs. This can sometimes work, but it can also turn into one of those "Let's throw in a musical number here to kill some time" type shows, where the singing seems entirely gratuitous, rather than the songs flowing naturally out of the action.

A few months ago I was out drinking with my oldest friend Jordan (with whom I have been in many amateur musicals), who was telling me about a recent trip to New York where she had been blow away by a new musical on Broadway called 'Wicked'. She explained that it was based on a fictional (obviously) biography of the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz, which charts her demise into wickedness (she wasn't always so it seems). This rang a bell, as I remembered seeing such a book in a quirky little shop in Clapham Junction years ago, then never being able to find it afterwards because it wasn't published in the UK. I'd forgotten about it until that evening, when Jordan's excitement got me all enthused again.

Soon afterwards I discovered that Wicked the musical is coming to the West End in September, and tickets are already selling out fast. I had a quick look on ebay and found two tickets on sale for my birthday night - surely it was meant to be! I hadn't even heard any of the songs at this point, and was going purely on recommendation. So a few days ago I downloaded the album (which is only available on import at the moment) and listened to it on my way to work this morning. Thankfully I wasn't disappointed - Stephen Schwartz has delivered his most energetic, stirring and entertaining musical yet (and I'm a big fan of Godspell). It's particularly refreshing to have two female leads getting all the best numbers (and a whole new world of audition pieces for us singers!). I haven't decided yet whether to read the book before I go to see the musical - which is advertised as 'loosely based' on Gregory Maguire's novel. Recently published in the UK in a beautifully designed black and shiny-green hardback, it made a perfect present for a gay friend's birthday - perhaps I'll borrow it back from him.

Wicked's UK Website