the times | Friday October 16 2020 1GT 3
times
UP
Katy Perry
UP
Dominic West
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and Antonia de Sancha have I seen
a posh man so determinedly push
his wife out in front of the British
press corps. Every detail was amazing
in its own, special way: the note
given to the press that insisted,
“Our marriage is strong and we’re
still very much together,” which was
in West’s handwriting and minimally
co-signed by FitzGerald. The fact
that, at the photocall, West was
wearing the same trousers and
shirt he’d been wearing with James
in Rome — presumably because
FitzGerald had furiously set fire to
every other one of West’s possessions.
The most extraordinary thing,
however, was the expression on
West’s face. Even if, as is always
possible, nothing had happened, he’d
embarrassed his wife. So it should
have been one of contrition — a solid
“It’s the sofa for me for the next year!
Or, maybe, just an old towel, laid down
on the floor of the shed. And that is
fair enough.” It was very much the
opposite of that, however.
I struggled for a while to pinpoint
its antecedents before finally settling
on “Toad of Toad Hall, just before he
says ‘POOP POOP!’, crossed with a
cartoon fox that’s just managed to
trick a hen into getting into a sack”.
It gave offthe vibe of
a man who refers to his
face as “North West”
and his genitalia as
“South West”. A man
who drives his sports
car while roaring,
“I’m simply The West!
Better than all the
rest!”, and feeling
so rampantly
testosterone-y,
that he cat-calls
actual cats.
What happens
next will,
presumably, take
place behind closed
doors, and I am
happy to revert to
my “private lives
are private” stance.
But, for now, the
nation’s mood has
been oddly lifted by
this potent piece of
Apparent Infidelity
Time Travel.
Dominic West
is Doctor Who
Hasn’t Been
a Bit Naughty
From Time
to Time?
He’s a Time
Phwoard,
having
jolly
adventures
in his Bra-dis.
Celebrity Watch is, essentially, a
weekly round-up of celebrity gossip, so
I generally avoid commenting on the
kind of gossip that could be described
as “actual, real people’s lives messily
and agonisingly exploding”. If you’re
famous and there’s a story about you
a) putting on weight, b) having a
nervous breakdown, or c) being
unfaithful, I’m, like, “Being publicly
shamed for normal human frailty
shouldn’t be some kind of tax you have
to pay for wanting to sing, act, dance
or appear on Eight Out of Ten Cats do
Countdown”. I’m here for silly stuff,
or hypocritical stuff. I tend to swerve
the “people’s guts and private lives all
over the pavement” stuff.
However, this week, I must make
a partial exception because the front-
page-grabbing story of the actor
Dominic West’s alleged affair with
his co-star Lily James has
provided bogglement on a
vast scale. On Sunday the
seemingly illicit couple
were papped in Rome
having a boozy lunch,
kissing and sharing an
electric scooter. The
next day West had
to fly home to
face his wife
of ten years,
Catherine
FitzGerald,
and their
four
children.
This story
is notable
because West’s
reaction to it has
been so... retro. It’s a
real throwback to how
public figures used to
respond to front-page
stories of alleged
infidelity. Appearing
on the front doorstep
of his lovely Wiltshire
house with his
faithful, put-upon
wife, West appeared
to be working from
a battered vintage
copy of How to Cope
When Nooky With
a Fragrant Young
Lovely Goes Wrong,
published by the
chief whip of the
Conservative Party
in, say, 1986. Not
since David Mellor
matching hat and
gloves — a typically
wry commentary
on how early
motherhood feels,
ie like you are a
very tired dairy cow,
constantly being milked
by a tiny, wailing farmer.
Personally, I hope Perry took the
role-play aspect of this outfit all the
way — and that, when expressing
breast milk with a pump, in between
shots, she quietly mooed; and that
when it looks as if it’s going to rain,
she just lies down under a tree and
refuses to move.
In yet more reproduction news,
the Roar chanteuse Katy Perry
has been delivered of her first
child, Daisy Dove, with her fiancé,
Orlando Bloom.
Getting back to work as a judge
on American Idol just six weeks
after the birth, Perry rocked up
in a ravishing cow-print dress with
Theatre
Herdman, left, in the title role,
is being hosted by the Belfast
International Arts Festival
until tomorrow, and then shifts
to the website of Oxford’s
Creation Theatre.
belfastinternationalartsfestival.
com/creationtheatre.co.uk, today,
tomorrow, Sunday
Macbeth
As Halloween beckons, here’s
a chance to commune with
Shakespeare’s witches in a live
stream of a production by Zoe
Seaton’s Big Telly Theatre
Company. Sorcery meets
spyware in this tech-savvy
version. The play, with Dennis
Film
I Am Greta
A fascinating fly-on-the-wall
documentary about a year in
the life of teenage eco-warrior
Greta Thunberg. She’s a
polarising figure and this film
is no hagiography. Instead it
follows the progress of her
activism, the impact of her
Asperger’s, and her harrowing
voyage from Plymouth to
New York because she
refuses to fly. In cinemas. See
review on page 8
Opera
HK Gruber’s Frankenstein!! (a
showcase for the tenor Allan
Clayton) and Britten’s Phaedra
with Christine Rice, left. Royal
Opera House, London WC
(roh.org.uk), tomorrow
The Royal Opera: 4/
The first staged opera
productions since Covent
Garden closed its doors in
March: four bitesize pieces for
one or two singers, including
Comedy
Norcott argues his centre-right
corner with wit and verve. The
Stand, Newcastle (thestand.co.uk),
tomorrow; Glee Club,
Birmingham (glee.co.uk), Sunday
Geoff Norcott: Taking
Liberties
Making hay with his status as
a working-class Tory in the
liberal-left enclave of stand-up,
Exhibition
Illuminating tantra’s symbolic
importance during India’s
struggle for independence, the
exhibits also redeem it from
accusations of exotic smut.
British Museum, London WC
(britishmuseum.org), today,
tomorrow, Sunday
Tantra: enlightenment
to revolution
From images of the tantric
goddess Kali to an AD1000-
1100 carving hacked from a
Hindu temple frieze, these
luridly riveting artefacts betray
a fascination for the forbidden.
Pop
eclectic mix of Talking Heads-
inspired “neurotic disco”.
Imitations of David Byrne,
right, in his oversized suit are,
if not de rigueur, then at least
encouraged, and the whole
night runs along social
distancing guidelines.
The Clapham Grand, London
SW11 (dice.fm), tonight
Bugged Out Night Out
It is as much of a night out as
the times allow, at least: club
promoter Bugged Out offers a
screening of Jonathan Demme’s
Stop Making Sense, the classic
concert movie of Talking Heads
in the New York band’s early
1980s prime, before DJ Erol
Alkan provides a typically
Julie Walters on Mamma Mia! and
her new film, The Secret Garden
The hot list
Your guide to the weekend
In Saturday Review tomorrow
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