The Mousetrap

Finally got round to seeing the Mousetrap today. I must be the only person on the planet who didn't know who the murderer was. However, I assure you, it didn't stay that way for long! Even half way through the play I think most of the audience should have worked it out. I can only conclude, modern audiences have grown so sophisticated over the sixty years since it premiered that every literary sleight of hand going, has been seen so many times before, we know each step even before it's been taken. So what explains it's runaway success? It certainly is entertaining. There is something ever so slightly pantomime about its individual parts. Each character appears desperately earnest in its endeavor to convince the audience that they are the murderer in question, however unlikely. Maybe, we just need the familiar? After all, when we see a likeable comedian telling a joke that we've all heard before, we still laugh. The set was excellent. The first act was very good, but for me, the second act was a bit too busy self-consciously winding itself down, and with it's celebrated twist, by the time it finished, was actually more like a collapsing pack of cards.

Terry Lloyd

Last night a program was shown on ITV, concerning the death of an ITN news reporter called Terry Lloyd, who was tragically shot by the Americans in Iraq.

I met Terry once, many years ago sitting on the doorstep outside his house in the village of Cuddington. He always came across as friendly whenever I saw him, but he always seemed to be in a rush to go somewhere, so we never really got to speak properly. However, on this one occasion when I saw him, I remember it being so unbearably hot, I don't think either of us wanted to expend any more energy then we needed to by going anywhere, so we just chatted for a while & I complained about the weather. He asked me how I was, and seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. He even asked me if I wanted a drink. I was familiar of course with his many tv reports, typically, with tracer bullets lighting up the sky, or shells exploding all around him, as he talked without flinching to the camera, but what really struck me was just how quickly he could make someone like me feel at ease. It was quite disarming. I didn't expect that from someone who was so well known. I guess in a war zone, your life can depend on how quickly you get people on your side. That exchange wouldn't have meant anything to him of course, but still, it's something I won't forget. It's always those small acts of kindness you remember. His death was such a shock.