Last night my friends and I paid a visit to the Donmar Warehouse to see their current production, the Ibsen play John Gabriel Borkman. Critics have raved at this new translation by David Eldridge under Michael Grandage's direction and we'd been looking forward to seeing it for some time. I even read three-quarters of the play in preparation, leaving the last section untouched so I could save Ibsen's doomful finale for the stage. Perhaps it was this - along with the fact I wasn't feeling very well and had been standing outside the wrong theatre for half an hour beforehand - that put a curse on the evening's proceedings.
Joining an audience made up largely of American pensioners - rather to our surprise for the Donmar - there was an air of anticipation as the action began to unfold. Transporting us to a bleak 19th-century Oslo, we learnt of the woes of the Borkman household, following the imprisonment of the head of the family, John Gabriel. By the interval, we were captivated and desperate to learn the fate of these unhappy characters.
As if perfectly timed, it was at this point that a fire broke out at an adjacent building. "Oh my gawd," crowed a particularly comic American granny, as we evacuated the theatre. Out on the pavement we tried to spot the actors, while the oldies put up their hoods and huddled together as they watched the firemen at work. Eventually we headed for the warmer environs of a neighbouring pub and waited half an hour for our worst fears to be confirmed - the evening's performance was abandoned.
So what should I do - go and see the full play again, just pop in for the second half or forget the whole thing? I feel like the moment might have passed. Has any similar disaster ever ruined a play, film or gig for you?
