Wonderland Review

“there is a real raw juxtapposition between the bleak, real-life hardships that these men faced, and pure lighthearted brilliance in the script writing. “

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*Warning* contains East Midlands vernacular. If yer don’t like it, then Bogger off!

Ayup!

Nah then, yo Boggers know just how likkle I manage ter write on this blog. It’s supposed ter be a platform, fer letting yer know warrav bin upter, keepin y’upter date, like. Burra rarely gerra chance, an’ when a do; it’s usually ter moan abaht summat.

Well, I went dahn Playaahse on Toosdeh, an’ saw ‘Wonderland.’ Yer know, the play abaht the pit moggys. Just so ‘appened, tharrit wuz ‘press’ night, so I thought ad try me ‘and at writin’ a likkle review. Well bogger me, it were bleddeh briwyunt. A felt compelled ter write summat abaht it, if onleh ter encourage the rest on yer ter get dahn there an’ check it aht!

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Image Courtesy of Nottingham Playhouse

The Nottingham-born (playwright), Beth Steel, draws upon her father’s 40 year experience a miner. The play is set during the 1984-85 miner’s strike, at Welbeck Colliery.

The play starts with a well choreographed piece of dance, set to music. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was going to end up being a musical, whereby they’d suddenly break out into song at the mere mention of ‘snap tins’ or ‘cobs’. This was not the case, and, as much as I like musical theatre, I was quite glad about it. There are enough industrial hardship stories, that have been set to music (Brassed off, The Full Monty…) and I don’t think this story, nor the script would’ve benefitted from it.  It was so much better than that, and would’ve distracted too much from the message that was being portrayed. This is, of course the Midlands, and we don’t like to be too over the top!

The casting was great, and considering Nottinghamese is one of the hardest accents to adopt, I thought they were all very convincing. (I mean, what do I know, am norreven frum raahnd ‘ere, me-sen!) There were certain characters that shone out over others, but, as us Midlanders don’t like to blow our own trumpets, am not gooin ter single any Bogger aht! The wonderful direction (Adam Penford), bleddeh clever set design, (Morgan Large) and perfect lighting (Jack Knowles) make the whole play gel together really nicely, and there is a real raw juxtaposition between the bleak, real-life hardships that these men faced, and pure lighthearted brilliance in the script writing. (Some absolutely cracking one-liners annorl!)

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Image- Nottinghampost.com

Although I have no connection to the mining industry, and, fortunately I was too young to remember the ruling of the Iron lady, this play really struck a chord with me. The heartbreak, devastation and destruction of these men’s lives, and their families, must have been harrowing. The sense of pride that these men show, in the face of adversity, is portrayed so well throughout the performance. The need to fight for what you believe in, or return to work, and face being called a ‘scab’.

Anyroad, I don’t think I’ll be winning any nobel prize fer literature, as a result of this review, but I hope it’s given you the impetus to get yersen to the Playhouse, and see this masterpiece before it closes on the 24th Feb. Get yer tickets here

Right, signing off nah, until I can get me-sen organised enough ter write some more rammel.

Ta-ra, ducks!wonderlandplayhoue

It’s a bleddeh cob, Duck!

Or is it?

Have you had this discussion before?

It’s a great debate that has caused controversy for years, and continues to do so to this day.
If you come from Nottingham, bread rolls are called  ‘Cobs.’ I grew up on the Rutland/ Leicestershire border and they were definitely always called cobs there ; yet travel to Merseyside and it’s a ‘Nudger’ and in parts of Scotland they’re ‘bannocks’ or ‘butteries’.

To most people, a cob is either a female horse, or an ancient building material, made with straw and clay. But in Nottingham, its a thing you ask yer mam ter get yer frum th bakereh!

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On the other hand, if yer Nanar’s gorra cob on, then it means she’s probably in a bad mood…

The name for a bread roll varies depending on where you travel in the UK, and that one word can be key to people telling where you’re from in an instant. I always remember visiting friends in Lancashire, and being offered a ‘teacake’ to put my chips in; being too polite to say no, I was wondering whether it would have currants in! Disappointingly, it was just a cob (sorry, bread roll!)

If you go daan saaf, and ask for a sausage roll, it’s quite likely that you’ll be given a roll with a couple of sausages in, and perhaps a bit of red sauce. If you ask for a sausage roll in the East Midlands, you’ll be presented with the pastry variety! This begs the question, what do they call sausage rolls in the south of England? It’s too bleddeh confusing!

Anyway, if you’d like to join the debate, please feel free to share this post, and comment on what you call this bready lump of carbohydrates!

Next time you’re in a bakery, in unfamiliar territories, it’s probably best to just point at what you want and ask for “one of those”.

If you want any of our #itsacob products, you can visit our shop in the Broadmarsh Shopping Centre, or visit www.dukkigifts.co.uk

Continue reading “It’s a bleddeh cob, Duck!”