Tonight we went to see comedian and “Action Transvestite” Eddie Izzard at the Heineken Music Hall, my second experience of the high-heeled madman’s performance.
The show was a bit short, it seemed, but I only noticed that in retrospect. He’s an acquired taste for some, but I’ve always found him an utterly intoxicating raconteur.
He shares my love of languages, having performed his recent French your in French. He once joked that he wouldn’t play in the Netherlands again until he could perform in Dutch; I’m relieved he didn’t carry out his threat.
Heckling, alas, isn’t much of a part of Dutch theatre tradition. We expect performers to have a story to tell and give them a chance to tell it without interruption, which in this specific case is rather a shame.
Mr. Izzard was trained on the streets of the Edinburgh Fringe, and as an eye-shadowed man in heels and dresses he learned to defend himself quite handily against verbal barbs from the audience.
Oh well. Maybe one day!