Tuesday, May 13, 2025
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Hertford cat defies Exeter Library ban

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There appear to be no signs of a détente between Simpkin IV of Hertford College and Walter of Exeter College, as Simpkin has been spotted in the Exeter Library two weeks after he was banned from the premises.

Cherwell has been shown photographs which show that Simpkin has not only continued to find his way into the library, but has even started stealing food from Walter’s bowl.

Simpkin stealing Walter’s food. Image: Khusrau Islam

Walter told Cherwell: “I would like to remind Simpkin IV that he has plenty of food in his own College! If he has a particular penchant for my IAMS chicken dry food, I suggest he passes this on to the Hertford chef.”

Simpkin has a history of sneaking into Exeter College. In Hilary Term 2021, he was locked in the Exeter Library overnight. He has also been seen leaving the basement of the Clarendon Building, in what the Bodleian Libraries’ twitter account described as a “campaign for library domination”.

Hertford’s Principal, Tom Fletcher, tweeted in response that Simpkin’s visits to libraries were to “liberate, not to conquer”.

Simpkin had been withdrawn for discussions about appropriate sanctions against Exeter after his initial ban. The Rt Hon Alastair Burt, former Minister of State for Middle East and North Africa, volunteered his assistance for the deliberations, saying: “Hello. I have some years of experience in the disputes of the Middle East and North Africa, as well as within the Conservative Party. Whilst this is not perhaps a strong enough background for mediation between Oxford Colleges, it might give you paws for thought if I can assist?”

The sign banning Simpkin from the Exeter Library was found torn up on the ground. A photograph of it was shared on the anonymous confessions page Oxfess with the caption #JusticeForSimpkin. Cherwell was unable to confirm who was behind this.

The story also made it to parenting forum Mumsnet, where most commentators declared themselves #TeamWalter.

Simpkin’s representatives have been approached for comment.

Image Credit: Khusrau Islam

New writing in Oxford: An interview with Shaw Worth and Kirsty Miles

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In Week 4 of this term, the Burton Taylor Studio will welcome a double bill of new student plays from Love Song Productions: Wednesday, Death Meditation by Shaw Worth, and She Felt Fear by Kirsty Miles. Ahead of the plays’ opening nights next week, Cherwell Stage spoke to the two writer/directors about Tibet, Taylor Swift, and the process of bringing your own writing to the stage.

What made you want to write this play?

Shaw: I’ve been doing yoga seriously for about two years now, and that entire world has more or less kept me going through the whole pandemic. The range has been from sinister MLM wellness promoters to ascetic nuns in Tibet zooming me on their three months a year off from solitary retreat. At first I was just interested in their specific language, but then as I stayed on we became very close in the various yoga/meditation groups, and in a philosophy that’s all about facing pain head-on we had a lot to work through together in 2020. There’s a funny safety in the uncomfortability of the mat. They taught me a lot. So I wanted to write a play for them out of gratitude about that trust, what happens when it’s broken, and what a yogic approach might look like when things fall apart.

Kirsty: I had wanted to write a play for a long time and when it came down to what I would actually write, I pieced together my interests. Having played the clarinet and saxophone for many years, the soundscape of plays has always been important to me and inspired me to get a composer and live musician on board. The central plot is a simple love story, because I think there is nothing more compelling! Most of my creative writing is done in the form of poetry and songs, so I made the writing and exchange of those crafts the fulcrum of the love story. 

What other pieces of media would you cite as inspiration and why?

Shaw: Writing-wise, Annie Baker’s recent plays, especially Circle Mirror Transformation and The Antipodes; she plays with technical sets of vocabulary very beautifully. Brian Friel’s Faith Healer as well. As for the staging, and the reason I wanted to try essentially static yoga on stage, definitely William Forsythe’s ballet In The Middle, Somewhat Elevated as well as Amina Cain’s novel Indelicacy, which is about a woman sweeping an art gallery over and over.

Kirsty: Sooo many! I think to write a play you’ve got to be constantly re-inspired. It requires so many exchanges between characters and demands inhabiting so many different psyches. It’s not like writing a poem where you can be carried along by a certain emotion you’re feeling. For much of the writing process, I was watching the National Theatre’s Hedda Gabler on Drama Online and very much liked the idea of having a central female character who is incredible but also hard to like. I like it when we are afforded that complexity!

How has it been directing your own writing?

Shaw: I knew it would be a challenge. This is my first time directing, and outside of writing and then handing over plays I don’t have a lot of theatrical experience. It’s very weird having to translate yourself to other people. In a way, we’ve had a tight blueprint, since all the yoga is written into the script, but investing those poses with meaning and making them accessible to speak and act in has been something we’ve had to develop. Honestly I feel like it’s been communally directed – our amazing Assistant Director Mina Moniri as well as all the actors have been so helpful in pulling an entire vision out of the page. 

Kirsty: Both incredible and scary! It feels amazing having so much creative control over something but it can also be nerve-wracking as so much of it comes from you. You just hope that people around you tell you if you have a bad idea! At first it felt so vulnerable having my script read out loud, writing feels so personal and suddenly all these people are reading it and forming an opinion of it in their heads. It feels really special though having really built something from the ground up. ‘Written and directed by me’ also sounds like it would make Taylor Swift proud, which is all I strive to do.

Any memorable rehearsal stories?

Shaw: Too flatulent to name names. What happens in the Teddy Hall music room/dungeon stays in the music room/dungeon. Gillian Konko’s non-human levels of flexibility.

Kirsty: We had a very chaotic rehearsal trying to stage our party scene. We hadn’t yet chosen the music for it and so ended up playing a ‘Filthy Drum n Bass’ playlist on spotify. Everyone also somehow forgot what it looked like to have a party so we had an impromptu dance to ‘Classic’ by MKTO. 

What has your favourite part of the process been so far?

Shaw: I wrote the play very visually, so to see it with real-life bodies in real time has been amazing. Having such a physical orientation as well has been really fun in rehearsals. Child’s pose is like the ultimate therapy for line-learning stress. 

Kirsty: I think I’m just so excited to have learnt that writing a play and directing is something I enjoy. It feels like I’ve found another limb. I love being in rehearsals and being around a new group of people consistently. 

What has been the most challenging part of the process so far?

Shaw: I think finding the right balance between silence/stillness and movement/dialogue. Because all those problems are embedded in the script – how can you give a character a physical language when they’re supposed to be in a (stunning) Warrior II? How does a play work when four out of five characters are anchored in place for around 80% of the scene? And finding rehearsal rooms. We’ve had some close shaves with several Porters.

Kirsty: Ooh I think energy levels! The urge is to throw myself completely into making the play, but it’s been hard to remember to preserve energy for academic work and that I should have boundaries with my time even with my own creation (I say this, typing at 1.30am. Still learning).

What do you think makes your project unique?

Shaw: The yoga element is definitely the most salient feature; it brings the first half of the play closer to performance art or dance than a traditional stage play (although there’s plenty of dialogue throughout). The poses are sort of their own voice in the class. Probably the only play  this term to reference Pennywise the Dancing Clown and a 12th-century Tibetan ascetic practice in the same line.

Kirsty: I think the integrated live music, the way poetic language seeps into it and the collision of the two!

Give us a quick synopsis of your show!

Shaw: Sandra, a yoga teacher in a small studio, takes a class on a Wednesday night around the theme of impermanence. It comes out (for better or for worse) over the course of the class that her husband, Doug, also a meditation teacher, is very sick, and due for a total laryngectomy the next day; in other words he’ll never speak again. That night, Sandra goes home to Doug to talk. When he leaves for the hospital, she finds herself alone on stage to reckon with everything that’s happened.

Kirsty: In the words of Bethan Draycott playing the rebellious Lily: “a classic story of boy meets girl and girl falls for me instead.”

Describe the show in three words.

Shaw: Ow! (hamstring, grief)

Kirsty: Enchanting, lyrical, romance (all words taken from Max Morgan, our Assistant Director: he seems to be able to describe it much better than I can).

Why should people see your play?

Shaw: When I describe it to my friends all I can talk about is the genuinely amazing cohort of actors we have. They are so good. Rehearsals have been quite weepy. Otherwise I think it’ll be something a little different from what you might expect of a normal night at the theatre. Come find out what that means?

Kirsty: Some truly virtuosic performances from our actors. We’ll take you from extreme silliness to intense grappling with the human experience. So many creative ideas from our cast and crew distilled into just one hour. Or, in the words of our welfare rep, Jack, “because Oxford students need a lesson in emotional intelligence”. 

Both plays run at the BT Studio from 8-12 February: tickets for Wednesday, Death Meditation, at 7.30pm, are available here, and tickets for She Felt Fear, at 9.30pm, are available here.

Image Credit: Katie Kirkpatrick

The Matrix Resurrections: “Déjà-vu and yet it’s obviously all wrong”

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Right now, you believe you are reading this review in Cherwell. This is your reality. Yet in the world of the Matrix films, that could not be further from the truth.

Although Resurrections was one of the most eagerly anticipated films of 2021, fears that it would disappoint fans and ruin the trilogy’s legacy were pervasive. Lilly Wachowski does not return as co-director, leaving only her sister Lana, and neither Laurence Fishburne nor Hugo Weaving reprise their roles as Morpheus and Agent Smith respectively. Resurrections confusingly morphs elements of these two principal characters into the single figure of Morpheus (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), shedding the distinctiveness of each. Rendering Morpheus a program also contradicts his role in the trilogy as the leader of a decisively human crew in the war against the machines. Similarly, the attempt to reinvent the character of Smith (Jonathan Groff) as a smooth-talking business partner does not succeed in creating the menace characteristic of Agent Smith in the trilogy. Whilst Resurrections occasionally produces interesting characters and dialogue worthy of profound contemplation, at other points it lacks the tight cohesion of the original film.

As Morpheus remarks, ‘nothing comforts anxiety like a little nostalgia’, and Lana Wachowski takes this to heart. Resurrections pays homage to the trilogy with parallel shots and flashbacks, particularly in its largely faithful recreation of the opening scene of The Matrix. That is not to say, however, that Resurrections has not evolved with the times. Humans now use portals rather than landlines to travel in and out of the Matrix. Furthermore, the way in which Resurrections addresses contemporary digital culture differs from the original. The latter is grounded in how the Internet and hacking were more of an underground subculture in the 90s, whereas in this film Thomas Anderson works as a game designer in the mainstream spotlight, emphasising the significant extent to which technology now permeates our personal lives, especially in our interactions with others. Our increased dependence on technology diminishes our capacity to discern reality from simulation, a phenomenon seen in the growth of virtual reality, for instance. Resurrections not only resurrects Neo (Keanu Reeves) and Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss), but also the franchise itself. ‘That’s the thing about stories’, Smith points out. ‘They never really end, do they?’ Or perhaps it would be more correct to say that we cannot let them end: we cannot let go of past stories and we continually seek to resurrect them.

Unfortunately, resurrection does not necessarily constitute innovation. The grand visual effects make Resurrections worth watching in the cinema, yet to expect something as groundbreaking as Bullet-Time was in The Matrix is to expect too much. Similarly, the action sequences struggle to be as original as those in the trilogy, and the fight scenes are staged in an unclear way. Resurrections eschews the distinctive green and blue tints employed in The Matrix to distinguish simulation from reality, favouring sunlight instead for the most part. Paradoxically, this radiant natural lighting enhances the semblance of artificiality because, as Smith notes off-handedly, ‘it’s so perfect, it’s gotta be fake’: a meta nod to the simulation of the Matrix.

All four Matrix films focus on choice, for instance that between a simulated world and the real world, but Resurrections diverges from the trilogy because it examines how subjects do not possess choice. On one hand, whilst Trinity’s body can be freed, her mind must leave the Matrix of her own accord, suggesting her power to choose. On the other hand, Bugs (Jessica Henwick) states to Morpheus that ‘the choice is an illusion. You already know what you have to do’, implying the absence of free will. In contrast to The Matrix, Neo exhibits an initial reluctance to take the red pill; in fact, his therapist prescribes him copious amounts of blue pills to manage his supposed breakdowns. Resurrections depicts just how difficult it is to let go of what one thinks is their reality: the comfortable existence one has always known. The film speaks to broader ideas about the nature of choice and reality by suggesting that reality is not something we can choose; rather, our choice lies in how we confront the truth about reality.

Choice features just as prominently in our interpretation of the films as viewers. Resurrections is playfully meta, especially in the scene where a group of characters discuss their interpretations of what The Matrix is about, because the beauty of that film lies in the absence of a single definitive interpretation. Yet the self-referentiality also gestures to broader questions about technology in society. For example, Neo’s memories, which formed the events of the trilogy, are buried in the Matrix video game he designs. Not only does this reference the films themselves as he is tasked by Warner Bros. (the studio behind the Matrix films) with designing a sequel to the trilogy, but it also investigates ‘the power of technology to trap or limit our subjective reality’, as Lana Wachowski reflected in an interview. Indeed, Resurrections explores contemporary concerns about technology and reality, including the way in which technology trivialises human emotion and experience. If the trilogy contested the nature of reality by contrasting the dream-world and the real-world, Resurrections complicates this by throwing memory and fiction into the mix. ‘Are memories turned into fiction any less real? Is reality based in memory nothing but fiction?’ These questions posed by Morpheus remain unanswered.

Despite the philosophical themes in Resurrections, emotion is at its heart. Neo is no longer just the stoic messiah figure; he is shown to be in psychological turmoil and yearns for what he does not have. Where Resurrections truly succeeds is in developing the character of Trinity. Fierce in her own right, she becomes Neo’s equal in this film: he may be the One, but they are only formidable together. Moss delivers the perfect blend of toughness and vulnerability with a commendable nuance. The film’s emotional core is built around Neo and Trinity’s love for each other, and it is a journey of rediscovery where their love triumphs, despite the machines erasing their memories in order to create artificial lives. Their love gives them the power to remake the Matrix as they see fit, to transcend its rules and controls, borders and boundaries: to free the minds of those imprisoned within the simulation and to reveal reality.


Lana Wachowski dedicated Resurrections to the memory of her parents, and said at the premiere that she wrote the film because she ‘needed something to help me with the grief’ and ‘inventing a story where two people come back to life was healing and comforting’. ‘Love is the genesis of everything’: the credits state at the film’s end, and it is ultimately a love story. In a world of simulation where the nature of reality is constantly challenged, perhaps what is real is love.

Artwork by Wang Sum Luk. Image Credit: Elchinator//Pixabay, Comfreak//Pixabay, Tobias_ET//Pixabay

‘Rebel against the flesh and bone’ – Love, Gender, and Bodies in Titane

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There is a moment that comes an hour into Titane’s (2021) runtime that perfectly encapsulates Julia Ducourau’s stunning second feature-film. Our main characters – Alexia/Adrien (Agathe Rouselle) and Vincent (Vincent Lindon) – are sat on the bathroom floor, Vincent slumped in a steroid-induced haze upon Adrien’s lap, and both look visibly unhappy. Yet they remain in close proximity, clinging to this early moment of intimacy between two still unfamiliar characters. Unhappy at the world, at each other, and at themselves, yet content in each other’s arms.

Awarded the Palme D’or at the 2021 Cannes Film Festival, Titane tells the story of a father reuniting with a long lost son, and the trials and tribulations the pair go through in an attempt to find a connection. The film is directed by Julia Ducournau, notable for her horrifically excellent coming-of-age debut feature Raw (2016) which is similar in its reliance on the cinematic institution of body horror. However, off the back of Raw’s success, Titane had a much larger budget available, reflected in the much larger scale of the project. The film also develops Ducournau’s directorial style, which she stated was inspired by her wish to challenge herself to talk about love. Ducournau’s masterful direction and storycrafting is enhanced by a handful of superb, distinctively physical, performances – Agathe Rouselle (an acting debut) is haunting and brilliant as Alexia/Adrien, and Vincent Lindon (a well-respected French actor) is painfully real in his portrayal of Vincent. Titane’s soundtrack is similarly impeccable: ‘Doing It to Death’ by The Kills as Alexia performs seductively atop a Cadillac, ‘Wayfaring Stranger’ by 16 Horsepower over the opening sequence, and then again during the firetruck dancing scene, and, best of all, a section of Bach’s St. Matthew Passion over the finale, featuring self-immolation, graphic scenes of birth, and a cacophony of crossed boundaries. 

In the bleak setting of an isolated French fire station, Titane explores the beauty and hideousness of the human body, of being trapped within fleshy walls that are assigned determinate (gendered) characteristics by virtue of their specific gender presentation, just as Alexa/Adrien is trapped at the station. Visually, the film is grotesque and bizarre – littered with shots of bones breaking, skin ripping, cartilage crunching – all gut-wrenchingly realistic, and all speaking to the question of what it means to be meat, and what it means to be a machine. Alexia/Adrien has a strangely intimate relationship with cars as a result of a childhood accident shown in the opening sequence of the film. Yet, within the first twenty minutes, this relationship is queered even further; she gets impregnated by a Cadillac, penetrated by a machine to become a machine – a machine for producing children. As such, Ducournau has much to say about the way society reduces pregnant women to the biological and the mechanical. Ultimately, though, Titane wants us as an audience to marvel at the horrific mutations of Alexia/Adrien’s body, all depicted intensely realistically by the special effects team. The film then uses that rapture to critically interrogate the themes of love, gender, and sexuality. It is Ducournau’s experimentation with these themes that makes Titane a masterpiece.  

Despite the shocking nature of Titane’s body horror, what lingers with you on viewing are the tender moments, the value of human compassion and the overwhelming sense that it is a tale of love and of family. An ode to Cronenberg’s Crash (1996) it may be, yet Titane takes the strange premise that there is a connection between sexuality and cars, and crafts it into a work that explores an extreme form of love without words. Ducournau asks: how far are we willing to go to achieve a meaningful (familial) connection, to love somebody, and where might this kind of love take us? We learn of Alexia/Adrien’s daddy issues early on, and see the character start to deal with them as she learns to bond with Vincent in a fatherly way, as opposed to dealing with her trauma through sex and violence. Vincent, on the other hand, uses Alexia/Adrien to fill the gap left by his missing son, beginning to resolve an issue he had never been able to get over (interestingly set up against the cold attitude of his estranged wife). They bond through increasingly tender moments of intimacy, and through a shared love for dancing, culminating at the climax of the piece – in a finale Ducournau curiously describes as ‘a very happy ending’, though I would personally describe it as biblical, and a little insane.

Working within and across the theme of love, in the world of Titane, gender becomes almost meaningless. Ducournau harnesses a Judith Butler-esque vision of gender as performative, and as a social construction resulting from a society restricted by the need to see ourselves through our differences to others. The journey followed by Alexia as she becomes Adrien is physical, emotional, and mental – and all underpinned by an interrogation of the necessity of gender. Ducournau describes her narrative structures as having no definitive beginning or end  – ‘I prefer the idea of shedding skins, and movements, in order to get to the truth’. This is never more explicit than in Titane: in almost every scene Alexia/Adrien sheds a physical aspect of female self – hair, clothes, voice. It is a total and complete deconstruction of gender, dismissing it as a useful frame of reference, and celebrating the moments when gender is queered and the borders of masculinity/femininity become porous. 

Titane is risky, confrontational and unrelenting, fraught with elemental flashes of metal and glass, the visceral crunching sounds of bodily mutilation, and highly uncomfortable scenes of intimacy between father and son. On my first viewing at the 2021 London Film Festival, the experience was memorable for the frequent gasps from every single audience member, and the way my friend and I clung to each other through the particularly nasty scenes. Yet it is a vital contemporary story of tender familial love and the futility of binary gender expression. You may want to watch it again as soon as the credits roll, and you may never want to see it again, or maybe both? But what is undeniable is that Ducournau is a novel and exciting storyteller, and I cannot wait to see what she does next. 

Artwork by Wang Sum Luk. Image credit: phtorxp//Pixabay

Two Decades of Mulholland Drive

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A lone car travels down a winding, shadowy road in Hollywood Hills by night. The city of Los Angeles lies sprawled below, a dazzling cornucopia of pinpricks of light marking out the city that never wakes. Another car comes careering from the opposite direction, and, in one cataclysmic motion, the two vehicles collide, showering the pavement with chrome confetti. Only a woman stumbles from the wreckage alive, her intended destination buried forever. 

So opens Mulholland Drive, the psychosexual, neo-noir, surrealist thriller written and directed by David Lynch. The film celebrated its twentieth anniversary last year; since its release in 2001, over 170 critics have named it the best film of the 21st century to date, and I am not one to contest their assessment. The first time I watched the film, several years ago, I was left open-mouthed when it ended, juggling a mixture of bewilderment at the muddled events of the non-linear narrative, awe at the pulsating sensory imprint that the film had left upon me, and shock at its heart-breaking but ambiguous ending (closure is not something to be expected from a film of Lynch’s).

Mulholland Drive sets out following the charming and perhaps overly optimistic Betty (played by the inimitable Naomi Watts), an aspiring actress set on making it in Hollywood. Betty encounters Rita (Laura Elena Harring), an enigmatic woman who becomes amnesiac after she suffers a car accident on Mulholland Drive. Along the way we also encounter an eccentric landlady (Ann Miller), a Hollywood director (Justin Theroux) whose life and career have been flung into turmoil, and various other, more sinister figures, including an elusive individual who calls himself “The Cowboy”.

Those familiar with Lynch’s work will understand my expectation going in: that I would be in for a kaleidoscopic road-trip of a film with no clear origin and destination. The film, like his other works, is disjointed and highly abstract, a piece of art making use of rich and often opaque symbolism, as is especially the case in his 2006 experimental film Inland Empire. This impenetrability is both the beauty and the curse of David Lynch’s oeuvre. Therefore, watching Mulholland Drive for the first time, the opening part of the film seemed reassuringly cohesive in contrast to some of Lynch’s other work and I felt, a little cockily perhaps, that I was following at least semi-confidently along with the storyline. However, just as I was getting comfortable with the trajectory of the film’s plot, two-thirds of the way through a tremendous shift occurs which throws all you might have thought you understood about the characters and the events into disarray. Strange becomes even stranger.

It is the sort of film that you want (and, admittedly, need) to rewatch over and over to grasp aspects you missed on your first viewing. Lynch is a director who imbues each frame with hidden and calculated meaning – a coffee mug in one shot becomes a wine glass in the next; a waitress’ nametag triggers a pivotal memory; a lingering shot of a blue key on a coffee table becomes a disturbing symbol of unrequited passions.  However, it is all too easy to fall into the trap of perhaps overanalysing everything in a Lynchian film in a determined effort to make complete sense of it (see: “Mulholland Drive: Explained” Youtube videos desperately trying to piece together Lynch’s easter eggs). It is important to accept that Lynch deliberately leaves a lot unclear, partly in order to reflect the mystery to be found in the mundane; as Lula Fortune says in Lynch’s 1990 film Wild at Heart, “this whole world is wild at heart and weird on top”. Just as life is rarely simple and logical, so are Lynch’s films.

Lynch expertly encapsulates the cruel duality between the alluring sparkle of the city with its promise of success and stardom – and the reality of unrealised dreams lying shattered and abandoned amongst the wrecked cars in their graveyard below the scenic splendour of Mulholland Drive. It is therefore a film that continues to resonate deeply with the one too often encountered experience of actors hopeful to make a career in Hollywood but who arrive only to be disillusioned by the grim reality of the corruption and self-interest that sadly drives much of the industry, and into which Mulholland Drive offers a glimpse. Peter Deming’s mesmerising cinematography and the idyllic pastel colours of the dreamlike visual landscape cannot erase the constant feeling of unsettlement. Ordinary locations like an alley behind a café become nightmarish and surreal, and dreams blend disconcertingly with reality.

It is worth giving Mulholland Drive a watch simply to bear witness to the gut-wrenchingly nuanced breakthrough performance given by Naomi Watts. Watts is initially endearing as the hopeful but fatally naïve Betty, sunny in her disposition and in her movie-star-perfect smile of pearly whites. It is her exploration, however, of Betty’s darker side and her more violent impulses which sends chills as she navigates a spectrum of startlingly intense emotions. Likewise, Angelo Badalamenti’s haunting, elegant score evokes the beguiling illusion of the Hollywood dream, a fitting complement to the sleek and disquieting Lynchian visuals. 

Mulholland Drive is a film as mysterious and sinister as the workings of Hollywood. Do not be put off if you cannot quite figure out what exactly feels so off about it all the time – the watch is completely worth the feeling of sweet disorientation, and it remains twenty years after its release a masterpiece as potent, raw and electric as ever.

Artwork by Wang Sum Luk. Image credits: JerzyGorecki//Pixabay, StockSnap//Pixabay

‘Persevering through anything’: An interview with the cast and crew of Sweeney Todd

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You’ve seen the posters, the flyers, the trailer… Ahead of 00Productions’ Sweeney Todd opening at the Oxford Playhouse this week, Cherwell Stage spoke to Director Imogen Albert, Musical Director Isaac Adni, Producer Harvey Dovell, and leads Daniel McNamee (Sweeney) and Maggie Moriarty (Mrs Lovett) about Sondheim, sitzprobes, and the challenges of bringing a large-scale musical to life in a pandemic.

What made you want to get involved with this project?

Harvey: I’ve always wanted to do a big Playhouse musical and Sweeney is the perfect mix between a classic show and an opportunity for amazing designs. Imogen and I had just finished Oxford’s first virtual musical The Last Five Years and were looking forward to returning to in person theatre, and planning this gave us the drive to return.

Isaac: Musical directing Sondheim’s best musical in Oxford’s biggest student venue: I’m obviously not going to say no.

Daniel: It’s one of my favourite shows, when I heard it was happening there was never a question about auditioning.

Maggie: Pretty much the same as Danny: I think it’s a lush score by one of my all time faves. It also offered a last chance to squeeze a final show in before finals. 

What has been your favourite part of the process so far?

Imogen: Not one, but the beginning of every step of the process, from starting auditions to first blocking rehearsals to hearing the band for the first time and walking into the Playhouse.

Isaac: Hearing the full brass play together for the first time was incredible.

Daniel: Our first full day of rehearsal was very exciting, and the company is incredibly warm. It’s been lovely getting to know everyone.

Maggie: There have been many, but one that was the most thrilling was singing the opening ballad as a whole cast with the band for the first time. I’d never felt such a mix of excitement and nerves and awe all at once. Also, the first time doing ‘Little Priest’ with Danny was a whirlwind and ridiculously fun. 

Harvey: The moment when all the design sketches for the bid came in really is up there for me. It’s just so exciting to see the entire team’s creativity and have them spread their wings like the OP shows provide the opportunity for.

What has been the most challenging part of the process so far?

Isaac: Trying to work out ways for cast members to pluck notes out of thin air (thanks Sondheim!).

Maggie: The score for sure – particularly the final eleven bars I sing. Also getting covid near the show hasn’t done wonders for the voice and remembering all the blocking. 

Harvey: COVID. It’s just been in our way at every turn. From the very beginning of the process almost every plan needed multiple backup plans and even with all the preparation we had things still have been difficult in the recent weeks. But the team has pulled through and overcome so many obstacles to do this production.

How has it been trying to stage a musical with the effects of the pandemic?

Isaac: Dealing with people having to isolate is a massive pain.

Imogen: Yes. Yes it has. Like so hard. So many major changes last minute, so much uncertainty, so much out of control – we have to make like three back up plans for everything. Also having to cancel almost a week of rehearsals before show week, never getting a run of the show and not having a full cast, or knowing what the full cast is, until opening night. Also covid anxiety is real, on top of all the normal stresses of doing a large-scale Playhouse show.

Harvey: Endless difficulties have come up, with a new problem to solve almost every week. It makes each decision so much harder when you know that it knocks on to all the back up plans. The whole production process has been a lot more distant which has been a huge shame as it can be such a social process which has been limited this time.

Most memorable rehearsal story? 

Imogen: All the people looking in confused at why Danny is pointing razors at people, or when we’re just standing there crying… and then the one where we all got covid. 

Daniel: The super spreader sitzprobe event. (A sitzprobe is the first rehearsal the cast has doing the full show with orchestra.)

Maggie: When four cast members plus director started to cry at the end of a scene and MD Isaac looked on in confused horror. And yes, definitely that sitzprobe!

What have you learnt putting on this show? 

Imogen: All the possible ways to email your tutors and tell them you haven’t done the essay.

Maggie: Many new vocal tips and tricks from Isaac and our Assistant Musical Director Jake (the beauty of a ginger shot being my fave). And from Danny, the importance of forming a strong partnership of trust and understanding to bring this strange dysfunctional duo to life. 

Harvey: That you can never have enough back up plans. Persevering through everything and still being able to put the show we wanted on has shown that with a talented team challenges just take a little effort to overcome.

What specific challenges came with having the Playhouse as a venue and thus a larger scale, and how did you overcome them? 

Imogen: Not getting into venue until two days before opening, as there’s no space like it to rehearse. Also there’s so much tech to do, so there’s nothing really to prepare for something this large-scale within Oxford drama, especially for production team/head of department positions. 

Harvey: The set is a major one. To fill a space of this size with something that feels complete is difficult as every part of it needs to be constructed in the weeks leading up to the show. Building something that big can feel like an endless task and everyone that put time into the workshop has helped change it from wood and paint into a dramatic set! 

What advice would you give to those wanting to get involved with drama at Oxford?

Isaac: For actors, just audition: we can’t cast you if you don’t audition! For getting involved with directing/musical directing: network! Find people you want to work with and form a team!

Imogen: Apply for assistant positions, talk to people who have done it before – everyone happy to chat! Go and see lots of things, and choose a team that you 100% trust and want to spend hours and hours with. 

Maggie: Really what Isaac says. It seems daunting but I have no better advice than if you just see a show that you feel passionate about or looks interesting to you – just go for it. It’s how I did my first show. I was scared because I was a fresher with no particular fancy theatre experience prior to university and thought myself very clueless. But I saw the callout for my favourite musical at the time and thought I had nothing to lose.

Harvey: Persistence. For actors, if you don’t get one role it’s all about going for that next one. And for production team, just get involved wherever. Even if it’s not exactly what you want to do, it’s all about just being part of a show and so often you can work to help other departments and learn as you go.

Why should people see Sweeney Todd? 

Imogen: Because we all worked really hard and everyone is so talented.

Harvey: Sweeney Todd is an amazing show with a wonderful team of talented actors, creatives and crew behind it. It’s a triumphant return to large production value and scale musicals and the sound of Sondheim’s score really shows that musicals can be about anything. Even a murderous barber and some suspicious meat pies.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street runs at the Oxford Playhouse from 2-5 February. Tickets available here.

Image Credit: Debora Krut

The how-to guide to Hilary: How to tell if you are a typical rower (and what to do about It)

Do you constantly complain about the number of frankly appalling blisters you have on your hands? Frequently whine about how you just have to go to bed early tonight so you can wake up for rowing tomorrow? Repeatedly remind people how you simply cannot go out this evening because you are so tired from all the ergs you have been doing? 

If you have been experiencing any of these symptoms, I am sorry to have to tell you but, yes, you are in fact a typical rower. 

As I am sure many fellow rowers have already discovered, when someone finds out that you row they tend to react as if you had just told them that your favourite food is ice cream and chips – you are met with raised eyebrows, a lip curled in disgust and a sceptical groan of disapproval even as you attempt to convince them that it is actually ‘really good once you try it’. 

You see, when you are not actually rowing at 6:30 in the morning, you will still undoubtedly be complaining about how you fell asleep in your 9am lecture because you had to row at 6:30 this morning. You will be grumbling about how your toes are practically dropping off because it was so cold at 6:30 this morning. You will be parading around in one of your numerous rowing jumpers or – better yet – the unisuit because, did you know, “I row at 6:30 in the mornings?” 

What is more, over the last few weeks, colleges have begun the nail-biting process of boat selections, adding a whole new layer of erg-mania into the equation. Rowers have been pouring blood, sweat and tears into training with the hopes of defeating the most fiendish and dreaded adversary of the rowing world: the 2k test. If you are anything like me, the very thought of the 2k test leaves you feeling half-determined, half-terrified and completely exhausted before you have even gotten anywhere near an erg. 

All in all, it hardly sounds like an enjoyable way to spend your free time. I can hear the confused voices of oh-so-many of my friends, and I can hardly blame them for asking me: ‘Why on earth do you not just quit?’ The answer, of course, is blindingly obvious but it is something that I know I certainly do not remind myself of enough: I love rowing.  

Too often, we forget that we are allowed to do things for no better reason than the fact that we love doing them. It is hardly surprising given the pressure that is put on us during term time to not only complete a lot of academic work, but also to produce that work to a very high standard. But no matter what level of a sport or an academic subject we are at, working hard and putting long hours into it should never be at the expense of your passion for it. 

I have heard the term ‘typical rower’ get thrown about a lot at Oxford. It is a phrase that somehow manages to turn the act of being extremely devoted to a particular discipline into a fault. 

But the thing is, we are all typical rowers in our own way. 

Being ‘a typical rower’ is not about constantly reminding all your friends about your early mornings and your tiring ergs. It is not about blistered hands or 2k tests. It is not even about being amazing at rowing. It is about the hard work and devotion that each and every one of us puts into those things that mean something to us in life. They can be the degrees that we all spend hours and hours working towards, the sports that we train in, the societies that we are part of or the skills that we hone. 

I started rowing last year while I was going through a bit of a difficult phase in my life. Friendships and relationships were starting to become exceptionally strained and work was continuing to be (unexceptionally) stressful. Dragging myself out of bed and cycling to an outing each morning before the Sun came up became an oddly empowering ritual in the midst of all this. It reminded me that dedication is something for each and every one of us to be proud of. If you are a typical rower, wear that badge with a smile.  

It is true, the things we commit to so wholeheartedly have the power to make us feel worse than we thought we ever could. I have rarely felt as bad as I do when I come back from a morning outing where I feel I have not rowed as well as I could have. I have never seen some of my friends as stressed as they were before we had to do our 2k tests this term. Alongside all the blisters and the tiredness, there is a disappointment of the worst kind which can only result from not quite achieving the goals that we worked towards with all our hearts. 

But the things we love and devote our hours to also have the power to make us happy in a way that absolutely nothing else can. For me, it is the orange and pink sunrises over the Isis river that suddenly make the early mornings worth it; it is the herd of cows that noisily shuffle across Port Meadow in the summer, and the rapid halting of our boats as we watch processions of tiny ducklings cross the water; it is the motivating screams of my wonderful friends that keep me going through a 2k test that seems to stretch on forever, and the exhausted smiles of achievement that we share as we collapse on the floor having finally completed it together. 

If, as I have sometimes done lately, you ever forget what the blisters or the late night essay crises or the hours spent practising your skills are all for, take a step back – remember what your orange and pink sunrise moments are. 

To all the typical rowers and typical degree students, to all the typical musicians and typical writers, in short, to all those people who strive with a wholehearted commitment to reach perfection in your chosen discipline – I hope you are proud of what you do. 

As for me, I really should be off to bed now – after all, I do have rowing at 6:30 tomorrow morning. 

Image Credit: Jpbowen, CC BY-SA 3.0

What’s happening in the chapel: Who’s who?

As a continuation of the theme of my previous article, I thought it would be a good idea to explain some of the people you may bump into in a college chapel. For context, I am a warden at Lincoln College chapel and I am using this column to explain what sort of things happen in an Oxford chapel. Chapels everywhere usually have a group of regulars that you will usually see every week, and Lincoln is no exception. In this article I will take you through the cast of characters you may see around a college chapel, as I know it can be a little intimidating to walk into a chapel and not know anyone. Hopefully this will be helpful – or at the very least, entertaining:

Chaplain

Out of anyone who you may see around a chapel, the chaplain would probably be the most recognisable. They are instantly recognisable from what they are wearing, which would usually be some type of clerical collar (the white ‘dog collar’ that either goes all the way round the neck or just at the front) and robes. Also the most obvious thing about the college chaplain is that they will usually be the ones leading the services (see my previous article for more of an explanation of the different kinds of services). A chaplain is essentially identical to a parish priest in every aspect except for the extra things they do as a member of the college. This can include welfare and academic research, and at Lincoln our chaplain is involved in plenty of events to help the freshers get settled in. Some chaplains (excitingly!) also have pets which they bring into college. One of my favourite memories of first year was watching the chaplain’s puppy attempt to join in with the post-Sunday service breakfast by knocking over nearly every plant pot in chapel quad!

Congregation

You! (of course, only if you feel like it). Like any church, a college chapel will have a cast of regulars who will often go to at least one service a week (often evensong). It’s actually quite difficult to explain the role of the congregation without diving into a discussion about the church as a building or the church as a group of people, which I think is probably best left to the theologians! However, without the little community of people that gather in the chapel to take part in the services, there would be no chapel at all.

Fellows

You are most likely to see large numbers of Fellows in a college chapel at either services that are theologically significant (like Christmas) or important to your respective college, such as Chapter Day at Lincoln. I initially thought about including them as part of the congregation, but there are some key differences that might be worth knowing. For example, the head of the college (names vary, but at Lincoln they are known as the Rector) usually has a special pew (the seats in a chapel) to sit in- make sure you work out where that is to avoid an embarrassing moment! Your college chapel may also have Fellows that study the building itself, if it is of particular historical or architectural significance- if you have any questions about the building itself they are probably the best people to ask.

The Choir 

Probably the noisiest people on this list (in a good way, of course!). The choir are responsible for all of the sung music during services, which will usually be the hymns, Magnificat, Nunc Dimittis and the Anthems. They are usually undergraduate or graduate students, but some colleges may have a choir made up of smaller children (these are known as choristers) who may come from the various schools that are attached to the colleges. Our College choir has also been known to sing Christmas carols during Michaelmas, so there is a chance you may also see (and hear!) them getting involved in the other musical events in your college. Some Choirs also go on tours and record albums, which might be a good Christmas present/trip out for a relative or friend wanting to know what an Oxford college choir is like!

Organ Scholars

Unsurprisingly, they are responsible for the organ and in the case of Lincoln, the choir. Depending on where the organ is in your college chapel, you might not actually see the organ scholar because some colleges have organ lofts (above the chapel) but in the case of Lincoln our organ is just in the Antichapel. Organ scholars are usually music students who have some experience of playing the organ prior to coming to Oxford. At Lincoln, we currently have two organ scholars, but some colleges do have more depending on the size of the chapel or the number of services put on per week. When not playing the organ you will probably find them with the choir at formal dinners, or trying to understand the slightly odd temperament of the Lincoln college organ.

Wardens/Stewards

Our job title may vary from college to college, but the role is usually the same. The role of a warden in a college chapel is mainly to help out the chaplain and to make sure the services run smoothly. Well, in theory. In reality, we have found ourselves acting as lost property, spillage cleaners (if you remember the red wine from my last article!) and chasing people around looking for readers. It is a very fun job, and if you are involved in a college chapel then I would really encourage you to get involved. You will see us when you first enter the chapel, handing out hymn books and showing people to their seats. When you leave the chapel, there will be wardens blowing out candles and sorting out the collection. We are present at nearly every chapel service, so please feel free to have a chat with us if you feel lost or confused about what’s happening!

Image Credit: Exeter College Chapel. Diliff, CC BY-SA 3.0

Puzzles Solutions HT22 Week 1

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Medium Sudoku Solutions
Hard Sudoku Solutions
Micro Cryptic Crossword Solutions
Pencil Puzzle Solutions

COVID cases double among young people in Oxford following students’ return

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COVID cases among those aged 20–24 in Oxford have doubled in the last week, according to new data reported by the government, in what may be the first indication of the impact of students returning to the city for Hilary Term. 

On Friday the 24th January 61 cases were recorded in the city, more than two times the 28 cases recorded a week earlier. 

Despite the steep rise in cases, the prevalence of the virus remains significantly lower among university-aged students than school pupils. Children aged 5–9 were three-times more likely than those aged 20–24 to test positive for covid in the week leading up to the 24th January. 

Data shows cases in Oxford. Source: UK Government 

The rise in cases among younger age groups has not translated into older age groups. Those aged 60+ have maintained a steady decline in cases since the new year, although there are signs that this has begun to plateau. 

Children under the age of 12 cannot currently access a Covid vaccine unless they are identified as being at high risk, which is likely to be the cause of the significantly higher case rates among this demographic. 

By contrast, students at the University of Oxford have been more willing to take up either one or two doses of the vaccine than any comparable demographic, according to a survey conducted by the University. 

Sources: Oxford University, UK Government, ONS. *The ONS did not ask students how many doses they had received

The survey, which was published during Michaelmas Term, shows that 98% of students are either partially or fully vaccinated. 

The data showing a rise in cases during the beginning of Hilary Term bucks the trend set in previous terms. At the start of Michaelmas Term this year cases continued to fall in Oxford while they rose nationally, although rapid growth in the city quickly led to cases surpassing the national rate. 

Source: UK Government 

In Michaelmas 2020, too, cases in Oxford fell during the first three weeks of term, before tracking the national average more closely. The number of cases in the city spiked during fifth week, before collapsing again shortly after the introduction of the ‘circuit breaker’ lockdown. 

Source: UK Government 

Students appear to be more likely to test themselves for the virus than either residents of the City of Oxford or the UK. According to testing data released by the University of Oxford’s Early Alert Service the test positivity rate, the number of positive cases found per test taken, was lower than either the national average or the city-wide average. This shows that students test themselves more frequently for each positive result found, an indication of the success of the EAS in identifying cases at the University.  

The result is based on testing data released for the first five weeks of Michaelmas Term this year. 

Source: Oxford University, UK Government 

The EAS is due to release its first set of results from Hilary Term this week, which will identify the fraction of the rise in cases which are directly attributable to students and staff at Oxford. 

Image: Covid-19 graphic: HFCM Communicatie, CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons. RadCam: Unknown via PXHere, Graph: Felix O’Mahony