Cinders will go to the ball or will she?

 Cinders will go to the ball or will she?

So there we were minding our business when suddenly there was a bolt out of the blue. One man has chosen to take on the Establishment with pistols at dawn, clubs, cudgels, swords at five paces, blunderbusses and flintlocks ready to be blasted mercilessly at his opponents and then ready to take on the rest of the world. It is the kind of scenario we should have been expecting to come to pass. And a week on Sunday it will take place because our man with power and influence will be breathing fire. 

On Sunday week, the well documented, famous theatrical producer, impresario and general musician of impeccable pedigree Andrew Lloyd Webber, has promised to allow all of those hyper keen members of the public into one of his many theatres to see his new production and adaptation of Cinderella. 

Now in the normal scheme of things this story would not have attracted anything like the degree of controversy than it has now. Besides why would there be any objections to putting onto the West End stage one of the most beloved and celebrated pantomime productions of all time, a childish fairy tale where all the kids show their approval of the good guys and their utter loathing of those evil no good for nothing reprobates, the actors and actresses their parents keep telling their kids to boo and hiss. 

But on June 21st Britain will find themselves emotionally torn over the one decision they may be either dreading or simply relieved that it's finally all over. The global pandemic has almost driven most of us completely nuts or just convinced us that Covid 19 is here to stay for an interminable length of time. But Andrew Lloyd Webber has had enough. In fact he's up to here with all of the delaying, reviewing, questioning, the pros and cons, the fear factor, perhaps paranoia and, more pertinently, the viability and success of Cinderella, his new musical, set to start on this day but none of us are sure whether this is the right time. It's enough to drive you crazy if you let it. 

And so the shilly-shallying goes on. This is the story of a gifted musician, cum- theatrical knight of the realm, exercising his democratic right to complain, criticise and lecture those in authority. After reaching the lofty heights of Phantom of the Opera, Cats, Sunset Boulevard, Evita and innumerable others, Lloyd Webber is renowned for his stirring musical scores, catchy lyrics and sentimental homages to the great and good of the world.

He's been packing them into the West End theatres for so long now that it's hard to remember a time when he wasn't the maestro who clicked his fingers and had the British public transfixed. But yesterday he challenged the status quo, asked the British government whether they were up for the fight because he was on the public's side. How much longer could they tolerate month upon month of no mental stimulation, no music to anybody's ears and no rousing nights out painting the town red? This was shameful behaviour and he wouldn't be taking any more nonsense from the powers that be. 

Quite categorically he went on record that come Sunday week, the great British public would finally be allowed into the historic aisles of theatreland once again. For well over a year now the West End has resembled a mausoleum, a monument that had decayed almost beyond recognition. Every so often an occasional pigeon would explore this troubled, desolate land and wonder what exactly had happened to humanity. 

In Shaftesbury Avenue, the flashing bulbs around the hit musical Everybody's Talking About Jamie look totally out of character with the rest of its immediate environment, an incongruous looking sight that had to be seen to be believed. While the rest of its musical rivals were locked away in some anonymous hinterland, Everybody's Talking About Jamie looked like a now fallen rock star down on their luck. The lights were on but nobody had seen them on stage since David Essex was a lad. 

Lloyd Webber has also declared that if tickets aren't being sold in their millions sooner or later he may to have to resort to the heavy mob. You can see it now, can't you? Hundreds upon hundreds of theatre goers will descend on the West End, stampeding towards the box office to pick up their much coveted ticket and then June 21st is postponed again. Oh no! This can't be happening but it is you know. 

Suddenly, from nowhere whole armies of police vans come screeching to a halt outside Lloyd Webber's brand new musical and that's it- curtains! He's broken every law in the land, the most unforgivable transgression and the hand cuffs are out for this well intentioned celebrity who just wants to put a smile back on British faces again. And of course the public will be up for a High Court appearance and probably sentenced to at least a year behind bars. Not true of course but you couldn't make this one up.

Now of course we are reaching the realms of absolute absurdity. Lloyd Webber said yesterday that he's had to re-mortgage his home because his wealthy residence couldn't cope without the necessary payments to keep his home without fear of eviction from the bailiffs. We do feel an enormous sympathy for this multi millionaire who, we gather, is an ardent Leyton Orient supporter and loved a good, old fashioned sing song and karaoke session whenever lockdown seemed to be getting too much for him. 

And so there you are Ladies and Gentlemen. Andrew Lloyd Webber, the judgmental one who loves a good verbal argument when the occasion merits it, is on the warpath. He'll break down the doors next Sunday, run like lightning when he sees the constabulary and block every police officer who wants to nick him for a major disturbance of the peace. 

This is England, London heading towards the longest day of the year and June looks anxiously over its shoulders in case somebody mentions another lockdown. There is an air of mutiny and aggression, hostility and utter rebellion. Come  Sunday week it could still be our Freedom Day or it could be the end of liberation for the most famous theatrical figure of them all. Still, one man is striking out assertively for the right to write finger tapping, humming lyrics that never lose their way in the public's affections. This could be one of the most dramatic weeks of our lives particularly if you love the West End and just want things to be back the way they used to be. Here's hoping. Let the West End musical find a song in its heart.