Skip to main content

'Succession made me glad I was born poor': Susan Wokoma's lockdown TV

The star of Chewing Gum and Year of the Rabbit on bingeing HBO’s delectable yet disturbing hit, and the show she regrets watching in quarantine

A little while before lockdown started, I was in a play called Teenage Dick at the Donmar, which was a retelling of Richard III as a high-school drama. The theatre posted a picture of the big dance sequence from the end of the play on social media recently. It was my favourite bit of the show, and probably the best bit of theatre I’d ever seen. I saw that picture and thought: wow, we had no clue back when it finished in February that everything would change so much. I miss it a lot, and theatre in general. Key workers are the most important people in all of this, but the entertainment industry also contributes so much to society and needs to be protected.

I find watching things really helps with my own writing – it’s all intertwined with work. Succession (HBO/Sky Atlantic) was the show I’d been most keen to watch; 10 minutes in, I was like: it’s so weird to be watching the best show ever made, and know that as you’re watching it. I blitzed it very quickly, so now I can finally understand all the memes and parodies on Twitter. It’s so specific about the media world, with all of the jargon, but you still understand it, which I think is a sign of exquisite writing. Kendall (Jeremy Strong) is so interesting. He’s someone with immense privilege, but he messes up every opportunity, which is addictive to watch. During his rap I was like: “Someone make him stop! Make this end!” I paid about £24 to download the two series because I had a feeling I’d want to rewatch it.

As an actor, I would love to open a script and see: “The helicopter lands, and the whole family gets in.” That would be the best job ever. But the show also has so many disturbing scenes, such as [Logan’s humiliation ritual] Boar on the Floor, which made me think of Laura Wade’s play Posh, about the Bullingdon club. My head goes mad thinking about the things rich people have learned from their schools and their parents – watching that it made me so glad I was born poor.

Continue reading...

from Culture | The Guardian https://ift.tt/2zzsMTQ

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

One giant leap: meet the new generation of male ballet stars

Beauty, strength and bags of energy: BBC Four’s Men at the Barre documentary gets up close and personal with the Royal Ballet dancers on the rise ‘It’s a golden era of male ballet dancers.” So says Emma Cahusac, the commissioning editor behind a new documentary, Men at the Barre, part of BBC Four’s dance season. It’s not just hyperbole. The young men rising up at the Royal Ballet are some of the most exciting in dance right now: principals Matthew Ball and Marcelino Sambé, first soloists Cesar Corrales and William Bracewell, and first artist Joseph Sissens all feature in Men at the Barre. With the majority of them British or UK-trained, it’s a giant leap from the grumblings of a decade ago about the lack of local dancers making it to the top. I spoke to Ball, Corrales and Sambé by phone, all staying resolutely positive during this enforced break from their intensive dancing lives, but all desperate to get back to work with colleagues they’re certain are something special. “I see so m...

Dita Von Teese: ‘Even when I was a bondage model, I had big-time boundaries’

As the star dives into a giant glass of fizz for her first online extravaganza, she talks about this new golden age for burlesque, why the French Strictly gives her costume problems – and how #MeToo has changed her Dita Von Teese is looking divine. Her lips are that signature red, she’s wearing 1950s cat eye glasses, and her black hair falls in a thick wave across a Snow White skin – and all this on the unglamorous stage of a glitchy Zoom call. Only knowing Von Teese from her femme fatale image, her teasingly aloof burlesque performances, and her time in the tabloids as former wife of goth rocker Marilyn Manson , you might expect an icy demeanour, an impermeable mystique. So it’s surprising to discover quite how normal she is: chatty, self-deprecating, not very vampish. It’s easy to see traces of Heather Sweet, the “super shy” girl from small-town Michigan who transformed into Von Teese. The reason for our conversation is a new film, Night of the Teese, made with director Quinn Wils...