Miss Tickle holds forth. A bit.

I just spoke to a man who literally sounded just like Franck from that hallowed cultural totem, the film "Father of The Bride".

"Jhallo. Ey vood lak to chek a foo dataysez viz za peepa ov ya compnee."

He was marvellous.

So having whinged about not feeling free to spout forth on matters artish, I open with a classic.

*tuts*

*at self*

I haven't been to the theatre for two weeks actually. The last thing I saw was Kneehigh's A Matter of Life and Death at the National, an adaptation of the Powell-Pressburger film with David Niven. As a rule, Kneehigh are my absolute favourites, and two of their shows are in the Miss Tickle top-five-shows-ever list, an honour indeed I think you'll agree. Their work is magically inventive, gorgeously imaginative and always for the audience (as opposed to those awful intellectual things that ignore you all the way through.)

But. They have a style. A very particular style. And they use it every time. It is a style I love, one that speaks to my heart, but watching the show at the National I did begin to wonder if they were stuck in a rut.

Which made me think: what is the difference between artistic vision and taste? I make theatre based on what I like and what I believe in. But I bloody well hope that changes and evolves over the years otherwise I'm going to bore myself, not to mention any lovelies who are nice enough to watch what I make, to death.

Do go and see it though. If you have the chance. And keep your peepers peeled for any Kneehigh shows that head in your direction. They will make your soul sing.