I Did a Thing| Don Juan in Soho

DISCLAIMER: Don Juan in Soho is a strictly 18+ show. This theatre may reference sex, drugs, alcohol, violence (?) and smoking.

Here's the thing.

I was going to write this post as a way to celebrate going out, without friends... and family. Because, most instances when I go out to events, I go at it alone. I understand why; not many of my real life friends celebrate their interests the same way I do.

But, then David Tennant was cast in Don Juan in Soho.

David Tennant. On stage. 

Then it happened. And something else happened. Sprinkled with a dash of something blog related (I know, very vague). So I thought I would type up this lengthy af post, detailing as much as I can, so I can look back at in a years time. 

I don't ever get to go to the theatre! Unless there is some ulterior motive, like the study of the play in a teaching environment. Don't get me wrong. I love it every time I go, but I could never really afford a ticket outside of academic prerogatives- even for the lower priced tickets. And yes, that's exactly the type of ticket I had- the cheapest. (Student remember. Budgets and things.) 

I tried asking around before booking my ticket back in February, but no one was interested in. 


Which I'm gutted about, because of how fantastic it was! - 

I had to do it. I had to see David Tennant on stage, just this once. Otherwise, 7-year-old-me would find a way to time travel and find a way to cause me physical harm if I didn't do it. The timing was perfect. I had just submitted my final assignment, prospects of getting a house is high and just this once I felt excited and the best version of myself.

I bought a ticket for a date, a week or so after finishing my first year at University:

May 27th, 2017.


Well... I went. 

To the theatre. 

On my own. 

It's weird to admit this.

I'm so proud of myself. Just for going on my own. Essentially, I did an activity that usually my anxiety would mean I could never do on my own. That my background would not normally let me do.

Okay... I went twice. I got a ticket for the 10th June, 2017.  The penultimate performance and the day before my 19th birthday.

Childhood dreams where met that night, but I'll talk about that after, when I finish my babble about the play.


* * *

The way I want to approach this is by adding as much detail as I can remember- for future me... Hi, future me. 

Now onto the bit we all want to hear: Don Juan in Soho.

Short version: Crude, rude, hilarious, topical, morals, brilliant. David Tennant, Tennant, Tennant.

Long version: 

I'll start with this- I was laughing right off the back. As soon as the curtain pulled up and Stan (Adrian Scarborough) to the stage. Alluding to the man himself, building expectation and exposition of character before we have a chance to meet the man of the moment: Don Juan or DJ, for short. 
Stan: He's Satan in a suit from Savile Row.
A man with no morals, no warrant of love, but I think we can all agree on his own flippance that he is "magnificently fuckable".
Stan: Forgive my discretion, but the man is a slag.
 Each one-liner stuck, and left me breathless after great belly laughs. Whether they were topical or political observations, or puns, or for just being good ol' plain crude.
Stan: Wh... What are you? 
DJ: Oh, just a cunt with an eye for one.
This incarnation of the play had been updated to meet the constant changing "news" climate. The UK has been experiencing a lot of things that laughter is all we are left, over the recent weeks. From terrorist attacks, a general election, Trump and other political exports (like the ever coming closer Brexit negotiations- send help). For example, lines like this:
DJ: I'm not a rapist. I don't grab pussy.
... got a massive laughing response. The timing was exact as to when and how the lines were delivered. The onstage 'chemistry' between Scarborough and Tennant was electrifying- a bromance that DJ wouldn't let himself admit. From the lengthy 'kiss' in the opening act to having his face pressed into Tennant's nether regions. And yes, I am laughing just typing this out. Who da faq says nether regions?!
DJ: Oh... I'm swooning.
Should we talk about the blowjob? There's not much to say, but to reiterate the quote just above. Cause, we were all swooning. 

The thin blanket - for suspension of belief- the careful placing of a bag of washing, hiding not so subtle movements, all while DJ hit on the "fox". And those oh-so-smooth excuses during the building orgasm- I AM OZYMANDIAS! being randomly quoted by Stan, being one of the best wingmen going, honestly. Just brilliant!! Fantastic! (... Sorry, not sorry.)

And then onto Sooooo-Hooooo!! 

What to say. What to say. 

Lot's of recreational drug usage in this scene. And conversation on religion- not wholly complicit. Rather the exploitation of a Muslim homeless man, or "Vagabond", to call Allah multiple insults.in order to gain a six grand watch. Strip religon from it and you are left to what our country was and continues to be- the exploitation of the lower class, in order to gain for themselves and stroke their egos. How people like myself, must throw away our morals and beliefs in order to make ends meet. And maybe, I'm just talking bollocks.

One line that did stick out was:
DJ: Twenty years ago I could get stoned, blown and a cab home and still have change from a tenner. Where did it all go?
Apart from the humorous nature, it was just so brilliantly topical. The evolution of inflation and the sort. 

The scene in Soho, concludes the first part. Before the curtains fall for the interval. Take it back a bit- I just have to mention the singing and dancing. I'm annoyed, cause I can see it, yet not fully hear the words, just Tennant's voice- not terrible- thinking back on it. Just like the rest of the play it still held good humour. 

Both times, I had a bit of ice cream. No photo ID, no booze. And £3.00 is not the most I've spent on ice cream either. 

Alright. ALRIGHT, I've rambled a lot so here is the part that I have mentioned everywhere that I can spew my opinion on: 

The Monologue. 

Using the script... and memory, I have managed to transcribe what was performed during the 14:30 matinee performance- June 10th, 2017. It may not be 1000% accurate, it is just as close as I can get it without a recording.
DJ: I won't pretend to love you when I don't. The honesty is a compliment. You're the only person I don't lie to. We live in an age if apology, don't confuse it for authenticity. At least my lies are honest- at least I know when I'm lying and why. Would you prefer me to be a hypocrite? Well it's easily done and terribly vogue - oh yeah, look around you; hypocrisy is both vice and virtue - it doesn't even shock us. The bankers rob banks, governments don't govern - strong and stable is all weak and wobbly. Peace-preaching rulers wage war. It's everywhere! Holy writ perverted to murder, billionaire tax dodgers, pension fund plunderers, racists posing as patriots, judges with no judgement, priests who prey (with an 'e'). Global poverty, insane famine, a planet  burning itself to hell - and the most powerful man upon it? A charlatan, a fake tan, a climate change denying, orang-utan!
And the people? Corrupted, broken-hearted, clinging to whatever floats a boat in this ocean of injustice: every second sucker with a story to sell - memoirs, confessions - a deluge of diaries for a world of professional weepers. Family histories - ooh, my ancestry - here's a gif of my first little poo. ME ME ME ME ME ME ME. You're a chef - cook - SHUT UP! You're a gardener - garden - SHUT UP! You're an actor - uh. We pimp our precious lives to this infernal gnashing babble - Follow me! Friend me! Like me! But don't ever know me.
(- Laugh while you can. -)  
Every tedious twot in Christendom vomiting opinions - LEAVE ME ALONE! BE QUIET!
A million years ago - some hairy bastard daubed a horse on the wall of his cave, he saw it, he drew it - well done! Flash forward: 'Hello, welcome to my vlog. Today I bought a plum.' You cunt! You dozy twit, you've forgotten HOW TO LIVE! Whatever happened to privacy? To grace and decorum? Elegance? To life as we knew it? Hmm? Oh, dear sweet Stan, Darwin got it wrong; man didn't evolve, he just got nicer tools. From a lump of charcoal to the iPhone - whoosh - history.
Where's the poetry, hmm? Where's the soul?
Isn't it a thing of beauty? The "Laugh while you can" that's been inserted was when David Tennant broke scripture entirely, broke the fourth wall and addressed a laughing man in the audience. It was smooth, and he managed to slide straight back into character. 

I'd go as far to say THIS is the climax of the play. Not his descent to his death. 


Climax- the speech about not feeling guilty about the way he lives. About the current climate- topical. Strong and stable, tanning culture, internet culture. The response from the audience, myself included was mindblowing. I forgot how good it was to be able to laugh at all this, and how ridiculously trivial it is.

And the after?

Stage door- of course!!

I went to an afternoon matinee performance, thinking that I'd go in the afternoon and head back home, see my mum and get an early night before my birthday.

HA HA HA HA HA HA-

I ended up at stage door for like five hours. FIVE!

But, I did meet these lovely lot!

- Guys, we really do need to meet up, again, just spring me a message!!! -




I can't really add much?

About an hour and forty minutes before midnight, I met and got the autograph that basically sums up both my childhood and adolescence.

The blurry picture on the left (not taken by me- credit to Julie) shows just how close we were to stage door. And how much he was still bouncing on his toes even after signing his name fifty times over. We got prime seats and the most Tennant viewing honestly. I'm making him sound like an exhibit, honestly.

I've always heard good thing from people that have met him before. And I can only back up their claims. He is so lovely to fans and such a genuine, warm, friendly, nice human being. So much energy for a man who's been on stage for 11 weeks and just finished his second performance for the night.

I may not have got a picture with the man, myself. I did get the one autograph I've always wanted. The one small, short memory that I now have.

Besides, I think there will be other occasions where I might get lucky enough for a photo... and not shed out a butt ton of money to do so.

And if you're wondering, here is my programme:


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