Rabbi Jacob - The Musical

Don't ask me why, dear reader, but at the moment my life seems to be all musicals, detective novels and birthdays. How did that happen? :-) Anyway, sticking with that theme, look at this shocker which I found in the metro yesterday. Rabbi Jacob - The Musical. Whatever next? For those of you who aren't hexagonal (as we say here), "That Mad Adventures of Rabbi Jacob" is a French (my italics) comedy classic about a man who's forced to disguise himself as a rabbi, one of those films that's always on TV on high days and holidays (here's a quick synopsis - what DID we do before Wikipedia?) I know, I know, it doesn't sound that promising but it is actually quite amusing. But to make a musical out of it? As my friend Sandrine said yesterday: "I don't think it'll make it to Broadway."  Here's a little extract from the movie via the magic of You Tube (what DID we do etc. etc.) Anyway, suddenly my own scheme - with the lovely Nardac - to write a musical version of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" doesn't seem quite so outlandish. You have been warned.

Playing God

WHAT a week it's been, dear reader! First of all, dinner alongside Mia Farrow (that makes her sound like a ship, doesn't it?). Then the rugby - proof, if proof were needed, that sometimes that great English strategy of just "winging it" really is the best option. Grumpy old Chabal, the wild caveman, the supposed (my italics) baby-eater, spent most of his time on the floor, eating the TURF! Pffft. And to cap it all, Ma Rhino was viciously - there is no other adverb - attacked by... errm, a robin, and now has her arm in plaster. As always when emotions are running high, I decided to seek solace in a dark room full of strangers. No, not there - the THEATRE. As luck would have it, my friend Sandrine happens to be playing God at the moment. Literally. The show is called "Si ON n'existait pas" (their caps - for once!). Let me set the scene (ahem, ahem clears throat). ON decides to create a female companion for Adam, her firstborn, mainly to keep him away from the goats. But, unfortunately, Adam and Eve don't fancy each other at all. Enter Lily and .... oh but I'm telling you the plot!!! Go and see it - an original idea, great writing, lots of laughs, and top-notch performances. As a plus, the play also has original music, which you can purchase afterwards. The picture above (by yours truly) is of ON sitting on the bidet, trying to figure out what to do next - if that doesn't speak to us all, I don't know what does. (Click on the photo to see some more of my pics of the show).

Hang Out with My Friends!!!

While I'm busy tagging and untagging pictures of myself on Facebook and furiously listening to music on Last.fm, some of my friends are actually out there DOING stuff. Cool stuff, too. So if you're in Paris over the next few days, you should go along and watch them.



First up is the ever-lovely Nardac, whose band Blutschwester (check out their MySpace) will be playing this evening at 21h00 in the 20th arrondissement. If you can't make it along to La Féline (6 rue Victor Letalle, 75020) tonight, they're doing another gig June 13th at Le Cave de Zorba (137 rue Faubourg du Temple, 75011), plus one in Amsterdam on June 8th. Here's a pic of her in action, sorry, sorry, I meant HERE'S some pics of the band from their gig in January.





Now, Saturday may be a write-off, but by Monday you should be raring to go again. Which is good news because the equally lovely and talented Sandrine is going to be performing in "Cabarets Furieuses" - I suppose it's like a series of sketches, really. Anyway, I've helped her learn her lines for a couple of them and they're really good, sharp, quirky and a bit offbeat. Plus, she's a terrific actress.
They're performing at the "Mélo d'Amélie" (4 rue Marie Stuart, 75002) at 20h30 on June 4th, or if you can't make it then, again on June 24th at 20h00 (that's the one I'm going to).
P.S. I shall, of course, be doing my own little piece of performance art this weekend i.e. the traditional Saturday night trolley-dash round the Monoprix food hall just before it closes. Something of a Marais institution, it normally starts around 19h45, but please remember, it's NOT suitable for small children and there are no subtitles for the hearing-impaired. Come early, come often.

Crumbs

Behold, dear reader, the fruit of my loins weekend labours. Does that look a) deelish or b) deelish? (Take your time over that one). The occasion: Sandrine's birthday. The motivation: a rash promise on my part and a tea party on hers. The result: some rather medieval scenes chopping hazelnuts in the Rhino75 kitchen, a bit of a cake-tin crisis, and finally, this baby. Of course, it went down a storm, so much so, in fact, that a Navy SEAL was spotted taking some home. And the lovely Mrs. LOG suggested I open a salon de thé, or tearoom, on boulevard Beaumarchais (well, she's my friend, isn't she?). After tea, we hopped on the bus and sped across town to see this guy's one-man show "Imagine-toi" (Imagine Yourself). Now, when I first heard that we were going to see a clown/mime artist, I was naturally afraid. Spending my Sunday afternoon watching someone walk backwards in a wind (they always do that one, don't they?) with a red nose and checked trousers is not my idea of time well spent. How wrong can you be? It was absolutely fantastic. Funny, touching, and he even got one of our party up on stage to help him out. If you're in Paris and you get a chance to see this show, GO. By the end, I was starting to find the star of the show rather cute too - yes, Rhino75 was lusting after a sweaty clown again. In my defence, I was feeling a little feeble after a bit of a HUMDINGER of a party the night before, hosted by the lovely Kirsty. I'm still getting flashbacks of dancing to the BeeGees, Peter, Björn and John, talking Tina Arena, drinking vats of delicious Aussie wine and meeting some very fun people, including a direct descendant of William Wordsworth (classy, eh?). P.S. The Parisians among you should keep an eye out for the Freresbrothers. I went to see them on Friday night with Micke (they're friends of his) and they were great fun (and fantastic singers to boot).

Shirtless

Apparently, this photo was on the front page of the Daily Mail today (and rightly so in my opinion). What ON EARTH (my caps) is going on with Harry Potter?? And what's all this about a scene with a horse?? (Oooh, didn't I see that in Personal Trainers 4?). For the full story, do as I did and pay a visit to Aimless Ramblings of Zefrog. I DO love the theatre.

Shadow Theatre

comédie française: shadow theatre, originally uploaded by rhino75.

Walking home from work Monday evening, I - quite literally - stumbled across this free screening of Molière's "Le Malade Imaginaire" outside the Comédie Française theatre. Everything was beautifully lit up with tiny candles and there was even a soup stall where you could be served by two men with real Molière-period-stylee wigs and britches. Excellent. Apart from the fact that - for the first time since New Year - it was actually freezing. Still lovely though. Interesting revelation: Molière was obviously a much bigger guy than I thought, judging from his chair, which they'd thoughtfully put outside in a glass case. Keeping things on an historical note - I should charge for these seamless links - did you see that France apparently nearly became part of the British Commonwealth in the 1950s (see BBC story here). Who knew? That'll go down like a lead balloon, I'm sure...

Hold it, Flash Bang Whallop, Wot a Picture!*

Mario Testino take a back seat, Stéphane Sedanoui, get your coat, because Rhino75 is in town and he IS SNAPPING. My friend Sandrine popped round for a cuppa at the weekend and, before we knew it, we'd decided to take some pics - and though I say it myself (my italics - as usual), the results aren't half bad. Yes, yes, ok, it's pretty hard to take a bad picture of Sandrine, but still, the experience provided (badly needed) inspiration for the next stage of my **showbiz** career - photographer! (ta-da!!). I've got it all worked out. I'm going to get some silver umbrellas in the sitting room and cover the sofa with a lot of white sheeting (shows up the cat hair, but what the heck, we're talking bohemia here). Some powerful lighting, a jaunty beret and a slightly louche manner and I'll be all set. I will, naturally, be specialising in pics of muscular young men wearing casually unbuttoned overalls, or looking sweaty in a vest (them, rather than me), because I feel that's a sadly neglected genre. I'll subsidise that part of the business by charging my mates for a few 8" x 10" glossies. Is that a genius plan, or is that a genius plan? I was so taken with the whole idea, I didn't even bother to wash the teacups but ran straight round to see Sid (who is, after all, a real artist and, therefore, up on all that kind of thing.). To keep those creative juices flowing, we watched a DVD of these guys, which was rather fab, before everything suddenly melted into a red wine haze. One of my few memories of the rest of the evening was Sid ordering steak tartare for dessert... if that isn't bohemian, I don't know what is. Sometimes my life is just like "Moulin Rouge" (but with a bigger role for Kylie).
*a musical classic from the rather wonderful "Half a Sixpence" - To see it is to understand England.

A star is born

My friend Sandrine is a budding actress. During the day, she already has a pretty high-powered job at *showbiz* HQ so I don't know where she finds time to learn lines, rehearse etc. but somehow she does. In fact, old ham that I am, dear reader, rhino75 has been known to lend a helping hand in the lines department. I think I was particularly fine in Jean Genet's "The Maids". But I digress. Yesterday, I seized the opportunity to escape from the sweltering heat (and any potential sun damage) and went along to a small theatre in Pigalle (oo-er!! but no, all above board) for her end-of-year show. Yes, yes, I know, terribly Moulin Rouge. Anyway, she brought the house down. She did three pieces - a scene from Sartre's "Huis Clos," one from Harold Pinter's "The Lover" and a 3-minute "freestyle" sketch she wrote herself, where she plays a politician who loses it on the campaign podium. Three very different registers but she carried it off effortlessly. Keep an eye out for her, ladies and gentlemen - if rhino75's instinct proves right (and when have I ever been wrong??), she could be the new Catherine Deneuve.