It was my friend's birthday last weekend, and as he is over here for 2 months before returning to Crete to live, I wanted to give him a present that he wouldn't have to lug back out there. So, since we are both huge Agatha Christie fans and the play And Then There Were None was fortuitously playing at a theatre near us, I thought "A-theatring we will go".
This isn't really a review - well, OK, a little bit. After a slightly ropey start with a bit of overacting, it was well done and entertaining, with a deliciously 1930s set.
But, that's not really the point of this. As I was watching, it got me thinking "why are we all here". Not in an existential sense, but rather what possesses people to pay out money to sit and watch other people pretending to be yet other people; and in my case, I've read the book and seen the play, so it is not as if I was going to be wondering whodunit. It seems to me to be a singularly strange thing to do, yet it is something that I enjoy and when I do go I wish I did more often. Is it just simply that we want to be entertained? Maybe. I'm not really sure what the answer is.
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