Theatre - All the Way Home - Library Theatre, Lowry

Star rating – 6/10

George Bernard Shaw once said that the working classes were only allowed on the stage as figures of fun. So he would probably not have been a fan of the Library Theatre’s production of Ayub Khan-Din’s new play set in Salford, ‘All the Way Home’. It is in parts very funny, and in parts very sad, but unlike the great kitchen sink dramas that emerged from the North and Midlands via the likes of John Osborne and Shelagh Delaney in the 1950s and 1960s, it lacks clarity and precision of analysis that leaves its audience floundering in an uncomfortable cocktail of themes.

It is set in a Salford neighbourhood that is being pulled down around a family, who find themselves drawn back to their old childhood home, where their elder brother Frankie is upstairs, having come home from hospital to die in familiar surroundings. The tensions between the grown up siblings are laid bare, and other themes of race and the politics of urban regeneration are hinted at but never really explored.

The acting is first class, especially Julie Riley as reformed crack addict Sonia who can’t help but say exactly what she thinks to all around her, and let’s just say that she is not really a glass half full type of girl. Sean Gallagher plays Brian, the brother who has escaped to London to pursue a blossoming career in photography; and Kate Anthony is Carol, who has a lot to answer for, having escaped to the leafy south Manchester suburbs and deserted her roots for the delights of Didsbury village. Her family almost spit out the name of her new home as they castigate her for this ultimate betrayal.

The irony of this plot line is that a large part of the audience will themselves be from the same leafy suburbs, laughing at the people on stage who are playing at being Salford oiks. It all felt a bit uncomfortable and aimless. In the end it felt like Shameless for the middle classes, which was a wasted opportunity when it could and should have offered so much more.

Books - Temporary Perfections by Gianrico Carofiglio

Star rating – 7/10

If you are like me a lover of crime fiction, and you haven’t discovered the Bitter Lemon Press, then you have a treat in store. They publish quality crime fiction and thrillers, often set in far away exotic locations. My own favourite discovery from them so far is Gianrico Carofiglio, who has just published his fourth novel featuring Italian lawyer Guido Guerrieri, ‘Temporary Perfections’.

Carofiglio’s background is particularly interesting, for before he discovered his talent for penning books, he was a prosecutor in the Italian city of Bari in Puglia, who specialised in prosecuting members of the mafia. And he uses his personal experiences to add depth and colour to Guerrieri’s own legal career. He does have some of the, by now, obligatory tick list features of a crime fiction hero. These inevitably include failed personal relationships; the inability to achieve a healthy work/life balance; and a penchant for fine food and alcohol, sometimes to excess.

But despite this adherence to the formula, Carofiglio achieves a gritty pace to his books, which are always a cracking read. If anything this fourth one is slightly less strong than the previous three, as there does not seem to be that much sleuthing or legal work involved. But Guerrieri makes full use of past clients he has, usually successfully it has be said, defended, such as ex prostitutes, drug dealers and Mafioso, to get to the bottom of the disappearance of the daughter of a rich Bari family. If only he could resist the temptations of a young pretty girl to flatter his mid life crisis...

Carofiglio also achieves a wonderful sense of Bari, the backstreets and underbelly of which are centre stage in his stories, with the odd venture to Rome and other Italian cities thrown in for good measure. If you take my advice, and you know you want to, you will head straight for the first instalment of the legal adventures of Guido Guerrieri, ‘Involuntary Witness’ and work your way through the following three books too, as the nights draw in, and there is nothing better than a good crime book to keep you amused.

Exhibitions - Dark Matters - Whitworth Art Gallery

Star rating 7/10

The current temporary exhibition at the wonderful Whitworth Art Gallery, ‘Dark Matters’ has unusually taken over the whole of the gallery, in an exploration of darkness, illusion, and technology.

Two of the most striking pieces are by Daniel Rozin, an Israeli artist based in New York. His interactive art, in the form of ‘Snow Mirror’ and ‘Peg Mirror’ is spectacular. In the former, a huge canvas is suspended from the ceiling, with digital light projected onto it like a snowstorm. When the viewer stands in front of the screen, their own image is projected through the snow, and the slower the movement, the clearer the image. It is a great experience.

With ‘Peg Mirror’, at first the piece just looks like a very interesting circle of wooden pegs rotating on the wall. But Rozin again uses cameras to convert the pegs into the shape of the onlooker. It is very clever and a fascinating experience as the use of technology to reflect the viewer reveals itself.

R. Luke DuBois has taken fifty iconic movie embraces in his film ‘The Kiss’, and re-animated them by using a web of points of light. If you look closely you can even see Lady and the Tramp.

These works are very visually striking and pleasing – the rest made a less lingering impression. Many of the paintings in the upstairs area are from the Whitworth’s permanent collection, just displayed in a different context to fit in with the dark theme.

May be I’m a bit biased as this is my favourite gallery in Manchester, for it’s beautiful setting and building, not to mention the wonderful cafe. But this is an interesting exhibition, but as always for me, whatever is showing, a great way to spend an afternoon.

Books - High Strung: Bjorn Borg, John McEnroe, and the Untold Story of Tennis’s Fiercest Rivalry by Stephen Tignor

Star rating – 8/10

I recognise that this is a classic sign of middle age, but the temptation to compare current sporting stars and eras unfavourably to past ones is very great when it comes to tennis. And although superb a match that the Federer v Nadal men’s Wimbledon final of 2008 undoubtedly was, for me it did not even come close to the 1980 gladiatorial contest between my then idol Bjorn Borg, and the young fiery upstart from America, John McEnroe. And this enthralling new book by Stephen Tignor, captures the essence of that time and place perfectly.

Much emphasis is, quite reasonably, usually placed in the telling of the rematch the following year, when McEnroe finally ended Borg’s five year unbeaten Wimbledon domination, at a match which was to be Borg’s last appearance at the All England Club as a player. And when Borg suffered the same fate at the hands of the young pretender at the following US Open, how he simply walked out of the stadium before the trophies were presented, and walked out of tennis, and his stratospheric career, for good. It is relatively easy to understand how Borg entered a period of almost terminal decline personally, when everything he had worked so tirelessly for from childhood had been taken away. He had no goals left, and could not tolerate a tennis life after being knocked off the number one spot.

What is fascinating about this book is the effect that Borg’s disappearing act had on his great rival McEnroe. Tignor explores this aspect of their relationship here, and explains how Borg had been his boyhood hero and idol. When he was rising to the pinnacle of tennis, he needed Borg as much as Borg needed him. They fed off each others’ brilliance and determination, and used their rivalry to attain even greater heights. Borg had such a calming effect on the McEnroe psyche, that on the one occasion that he was losing his famous temper whilst player the Swede, Borg simply invited him to the net, put his arms around the young American, and urged him to relax. Amazingly it did the trick, but only Borg could have had this effect on Super Brat. The Iceman Borg knew all about temper and how to control it, as underneath his glacial exterior, the same rage burned, he had just learned how to control it with an iron will over the years in order to succeed.

And life after Borg had a hollow feeling for McEnroe. He quickly declined too, the last of the era of wooden racket winners, who were quickly usurped by the power equipment and game of young guns like Agassi, Sampras, and Becker. But it is the theory that Tignor puts forward here, that McEnroe needed the rivalry with Borg to achieve his best, that is original and insightful.

My only quibble is that only a small part of the book is actually about Borg and McEnroe. Large parts are dedicated to the other players who made up the tennis hall of fame at that time such as Jimmy Connors, Vitas Gerulaitus, and Ilie Nastase. Not that I minded this, took me back to a time in my childhood when I loved nothing more than watching Wimbledon all day. But that is not really what the book is billed as. So maybe if the title had been a bit less misleading I would have not felt slightly short changed. Nevertheless if, like me, you want to relive wonderful childhood memories of Robinson's Barley Water (I only ever saw Virginia Wade actually drink the stuff); strawberries and cream; and the best tennis that will probably ever be played; then this book is an absolute delight.

Theatre - Othello - Crucible Theatre, Sheffield

Star rating – 8/10

Othello is considered to be one of the great Shakespearean tragedies, but this cautionary tale of jealousy and deception is playing at Sheffield’s Crucible Theatre in part as a comedy, which feels a little strange but really works well. This production is attracting critical acclaim and large crowds, in large part due to ‘The Wire’ reunion double act of Dominic West and Clarke Peters.

Overall it is an accomplished version, with a stripped down set and superb lighting which set the action off wonderfully. West cleverly chooses to use a very proficient Yorkshire accent for the part of evil arch manipulator Iago for his home town return. His accent was authentic, but was spoilt, especially in the first half of this marathon three and a quarter hour play, by a few obvious line fluffs. I cannot imagine how taxing it must be to play this part twice in one day as the actors do here on a Saturday, but I do expect more from such an experienced thespian. Fluffs aside, he was great as he manipulated, lied and deceived his way to plot the downfall of his boss Othello.

Clarke Peters was good as the trusting Moor, who is blinded by his trust in his deputy, and his excessive love for his wife; the beautiful and equally naive Desdemona. In contrast to West, the issue I had with Peters’ performance was not his proficiency, but his accent. He started off with a very heavy Caribbean lilt, which seemed to markedly soften as the drama unfolded. But in neither guise was his diction very audible, which was a great shame as in every other way I thought he made a perfect Othello. In would have been better if director Daniel Evans had asked him to play it in his own natural accent.

As in so many of Shakespeare’s plays, the parts for women are not a patch on those of their male counterparts, but Lily James is excellent as Desdemona, and Alexandra Gilbreath as Iago’s wife and Desdemona’s maid Emilia, is absolutely wonderful, wringing every ounce of potential out of the relatively short stage time she has.

It is a great production, but possibly needed to be a little less conscious of the fact of having such two star players involved in it, and helping them to achieve both their own, and this wonderful play’s true dramatic status.