Life is a Cabaret

If your mind is too full of the Liza Minnelli, Michael Yorke and Hollywood sanitised version of this musical please do not attend. However if you can sweep this from your mind then Willkommen. The Nazis, the persecution based on faith, race or sexuality, all these are rawly laid before you. Never before in the West End have I seen an audience almost afraid to applaud after some of the songs as the harsh reality of their meanings sunk home. Even the seemingly innocuous “Money Song” takes on a deeper, darker tone, the whiff of anti-Semitism enforced by a line in the previous scene, directed at Francis Matthews, Herr Schulz the elderly Jewish suitor of landlady Fraulein Schneider. Their stoic romance, enhanced by fruit, provides some respite from the darkness but is tragically doomed by the storm clouds gathering around them. Casting his painted eye over all that unfolds, menacing, half-mocking is James Dreyfuss’ Emcee, unsure or unwillingly to let us know where his alliances lie, politically at least. Dreyfuss is in his element here, teasing and toying with the audience, the intimacy of the Lyric allowing him free rein for intercourse with the patrons and, but for a brief moment when his guard drops, banishing the memories of mincing ninnies that seem to have been his televisual stock in trade. Shame that the other leads let him down. One finds it difficult to sympathise with Michael Hayden’s Clifford Bradshaw, at times too American, too self-centred whilst understudy Rebecca Bainbridge, though more than adequate in what she did, played the role too much like an English Liza Minnelli, distracting from the deeper themes. Yet despite that the production maintained that underlying current of the rising Nazi demon. The hauntingly beautiful “Tomorrow Belongs to Me” still has the power to move and disturb then as the end draws near the jackbooted Nazis make their presence felt, first on Bradshaw then on Kabaret. The final haunting scene as naked bodies huddle together whilst flakes, of snow or something less delicate, drift down will live in my memory a long time.

Gallia Club Omnisport de Bihorel 2 Sporting Club de Petit-Couronne 4
Ligue de Normandie Division D’Honneur Seniors Poule Unique
Dimanche 20 mai 2007

For dessert back to Rouen and its suburbs, this time staying north of the Seine for a mid table clash with little to play for, a pleasant way to draw down the curtain on a long weekend of culture, history and football. First point to make to those who wish to chalk of GCO Bihorel, their ground, Stade Marechal Leclerc lies in Rue de Verdun, however this road name seems as common locally as London Road this side of la Manche and at first the Old Combustibles plus one found themselves in a rather residential lane which seemed to lacked the all important football field. Happening upon a few locals, your humble scribes Franglais did the trick, discovering that the Rue de Verdun we had found was in fact in the neighbouring commune of Bois Guillaume. Soon the tour party was heading in the right direction, though missing out on the locals whose B team competing at same level were also at home that day at the strangely named Parc des Cosmonautes.
Just before the appointed hour of three o’clock the English advance party was rumbling into Stade Marechal Leclerc, another ground part of a sporting, hemmed in by a swimming pool and race track. Slightly faded, the Stadium had perhaps seen better days though not too many Anglos. The match itself had the strong whiff of end of season about it, played in a spirit of amity rarely seen in the English game. Though playing to the best of their efforts neither side seemed to be taking matters too seriously, amateur not only in name but in attitude too. The hosts went hammer and tongs at their opponents only to be caught out early on. Denied an equaliser by a magnificent reaction save from the SC ‘keeper, turning a sharp close-range effort at a corner on to his near post, GCO slipped further behind as they conceded a second not long before the break. They might also have conceded one during half time for having returned from the snack bar (coffee, cold drinks and chocolate bars only! Pas be bier!), the scoreboard read 3-0 to SC Petit-Couronne. Not that the assistant referee, a rather chic blonde, if over tanned, would have noticed for she was out of the dressing room having a crafty gasper during the interval!
A early strike for GCO reduced the deficit but just as thoughts of a third straight comeback from two goal arrears swept through my mind, SC struck once more with a stunning looping volley that left the ‘keeper flat-footed. A stunning diving header cut the gap to a single goal midway through the half, a classy if comedic effort for it had come from an SC defender. At least the mood of the match was captured by the gargantuan SC centre-half and skipper who shared a whimsical smile with fans gathered behind the goal, even the English! This second hoped for comeback too proved stillborn for a fourth goal by SC proved fatal for GCO, allowing SC to leapfrog them into 5th place in the final table.

FC Dieppois 2 Red Star Paris 2
Championnat de France Amateur - Groupe D 33ème journée
Samedi 19 mai 2007

After the appetiser, the main course. Whilst Anglo Saxon eyes were turned towards Wembley and the first FA Cup Final at the new temple of English Football, this scribe was taking in the delights of Dieppe on market day whilst awaiting the main event, when notre vieux amis de Red Star would be in town or rather on the outskirts of town to entertain the already relegated hosts in their sparkling new home, le Stade des Vertus. Unfortunately for the Dieppois the curse of the new stadium had fallen upon them for new surroundings would lead to new visitors next terms, the club relegated back to CFA2 after 6 seasons in the top division of French Amateur Football. A shame really for the ground that has replaced the old Maurice Thoumyre in the heart of town is a gleaming structure dominated by a magnificent stand, which once the greenery has sprung into life will provide a pleasant setting for an evening’s football as well as a heartland for FCD’s many teams.
Still at least the hosts did not allow the disappointment of demotion to dull their senses, taking the game to their loftier Parisian guests from the off, whilst in the tribunes the competition between provincial and Parisian was hotting up. The locals aided by percussion and an air siren perhaps left over from fateful days some six decades pasts were in fine vocal fettle matched chord for chord by the Red Star support aided and abetted by substances both of liquid and of herbal nature.
Down on the pitch, Dieppe belied their lowly league position threatening after 9 minutes with a decent effort that just cleared the crossbar of Red Star custodian, Djidonou before deservedly grabbing the lead after 19 minutes. A deep ball into space exposed Red Star’s disinterested defence giving Négrèche a clear run on goal, his expert finish giving Djidonou no chance. Though a lively contest, the game became bogged down in the middle of the park, opportunities few and far between until the closing minutes of the half. Dieppe number one Boubet made a sharp save to prevent Red Star striker Lefort levelling matters in the 38th minute but then a goal out of nothing doubled the hosts’ advantage. There seemed little danger when the ball was sent out Calbou wide out on the left wing, the goal a distant target but utilising the gusting sea breeze, the winger looped over a first time volley that had Djidonou stranded in no mans land as it dropped into the far corner of the net beyond him. Half time beckoned but not before Red Star hit back as the 45 minutes ran out, architect and scorer of the goal Khaled Kemas with a determined charge at the Dieppe left flank finished off with a scorching drive past the despairing dive of Boubet between the sticks.
Inspired by this Red Star came out refreshed and renewed, showing greater spontaneity in attack, Kemas’ fellow striker Buval missing the target by barely an inch whilst Négrèche was forced to clear off the line as Ouattara’s header looked bound for the back of the net. With the wind at their backs, Red Star’s offensive at last paid off in the 69th minute as that man Kemas struck once more. The creator this time was midfielder Bennesmoudi whose incisive pass cut a swathe through the rearguard, Kemas stretching out a leg to divert the ball past the onrushing Boudet. The goal greeted with flares and fanfares from the travelling faithful.
With caution at a premium, neither side deserved defeat though but for a frustrating offside flag Red Star might well have clinched the points when Lefort went through to bury the ball in Boudet’s net only for the ‘goal’ to be ruled out. Still on a day when English football’s showpiece had proved a damp squib, the contest had provided entertainment that burned as brightly as those supporters’ maroons.

FC Dieppois: Boudet, Hamel (Jeanjean 76), Parmentier, Natchimie (Capt), Guyot, Colinet, Calbou, Boulle, Négrèche (MBengue 89), Affagard (Buquet 65), Mobati
Substitutes not used: Vincent, Mendy
Trainer: B. Mignot

RSP: Djidonou, Nseke, Diomande, Kangulungu, Fourneuf (Capt.), N'simba, Ouattara, Lefort, Kemas, Benmesmoudi (Makkrat 82), Buval
Substitutes: Tounkara, Diawara, Agyiriba, Diakite
Trainer: Bruno Naidon

Attendance: 1100
Referee: M. Aymeric Ansel
Assistant Referees: M. Thierry Laurent and M> Jean-Paul Da Silva
Goalscoring:
1-0 FCD: Négrèche 19th minute
2-0 FCD: Calbou 44th minute
2-1 RSP: Kemas 45th minute + 1
2-2 RSP: Kemas 68th minute

Khaled Kemas stabs home the equaliser

Mont-Saint-Aignan 2 US Quevilly 4 (AET FT 2-2)
La Coupe de Normandie – Quart de Finale
Jeudi 17 mai 2007

Ah serendipity, the natural gift for making useful discoveries quite per chance. Day one of the Normandy sojourn and having hove through the fog of the moody English Channel, leaving the down at heel industrial wastelands of Newhaven, into the quaint Norman fishing port of Dieppe, your humble scribe found himself in a town seemingly all but deserted. The continental penchant for various public holidays has bypassed the Anglo Saxon world but for France, this particular Thursday was Ascension Day and as such barely a soul was visible bar the town tramp who failed to extract what few cents rattled around the pockets left me in search of further prey. Reaching le Gare de Dieppe, the horror dawned that this particular day of rest meant public transport too was absent, a two hour wait for the next train towards the primary destination, the ancient city of Rouen. Several Woodbines later, and having been accosted by my new mendicant friend for a gasper, his search for victims as fruitless as mine for conveyance, a newsstand sprung into life as four o’clock chimed. Purchasing a local journal, the oddly named Paris Normandie, a quick perusal of the sports section revealed that Ascension Day was the date for the quarter finals of the regional cup competition, la Coupe de Normandie for the trophy, le Challenge Albert-Lebas. Glancing down the fixtures, disappointment followed joy as they revealed FC Rouen at home that afternoon only for the 3.00 kick-off time crush that hope of making the game. The other names meant little but then, having reached Rouen, a quick glance at a bus map and the name of Mont-Saint-Aignan leapt out as a Rouen suburb. The distance looked walkable on the map and having deposited my luggage at the Auberge, it was yomping time.
Maps are flat, Rouen is not. Mont-Saint-Aignan lies above the town; the walk is pleasant though those of a less rambling bent might consider the local bus, route No 4, which winds up from the station into the commercial district of Les Coquets. The ground of MSA, who compete in the Division D’Honneur of the Ligue de Normandie, lies at the back of an impressive sporting complex, at first seemingly a maze of pitches and sports, but handily signposted. Admission 4€, no complains at that. For the foodies, a roaring barbeque though the bar facilities would not impress the connoisseur. As for the ground, le Stade Rolande Goulley, basic though adequate is a fair description, an enclosed pitch but little cover bar the clubhouse which had been seemingly been annexed by the MSA junior section, armed with a giant flag in their club’s green and black and lungs of steel which belted out song after song in encouragement of their heroes.
With their guests from two divisions higher, US Quevilly compete in CFA and though they struggled there, the gulf should perhaps have been too great, but with a number of first teamers rested ahead of a vital relegation battle, MSA were keen to inflict an upset on their opponents for the southern, less salubrious suburbs of the city. So it was that less than ten minutes in the surprise was already on the cards. A clumsy challenge on the MSA centre forward as a harmless cross he might never had reached saw referee M. Rossignol award a spot kick, one serenely dispatched for the lead. Defending stoutly MSA refused to buckle under the weight of their foes and added a second goal after 27 minutes, a neat angled strike into the bottom corner of the net after the defence had been caught leaden footed. Le Quevillois hit back within two minutes of the restart, the speed and strength of the visitors’ centre-forward proving too much for the MSA rearguard, a powerful run capped by a precise finish as the ball was clipped past a powerless ‘keeper. Still it seemed as if determined MSA would hang to their lead but then hearts were broken as somehow the ball was scrambled home as the weight of Quevilly told at a corner five minutes from time. All out assault for the higher team resisted, the game went into extra time upon which one of the more quirky aspects of this competition came to light, rolling substitutions, both sides having used all three in regulation time.
The young voices, ever encouraging, refused to be stilled, even as smoke from a rather vigorous barbeque drifted across the terrain, lending the air of a contest at Stade Velodrome or Parc de Princes to the humble suburban surroundings.
Thoughts that USQ might roll over their lesser opponents were swiftly put to bed as the hosts rolled up their socks and went in search of a winner. Once again, though, their spirits would be crushed by a cruel late goal in the first period. Awarded an indirect free kick inside the penalty area after M. Rossignol had lost patience with the USQ custodian persistent time wasting, the ball was lashed into the impervious wall ahead of them and suddenly USQ were on the breakout. Lack of men in defence and the goal was left exposed for a simple tap in as the first 15 minutes of extra time elapsed. A fourth goal in the second period as twilight closed in meant the dream of bringing le Challenge Albert-Lebas back to Stade Rolande Goulley had died.
Les Coquets was closed as I strolled down the hill into town once more, but through skies were greying and the light was dimming before me was laid out Rouen in all her glory, dominated by Cathedral, Abbey et al. If you perchance upon this ground, assuage the craving to take the bus back. Instead indulge yourself and feast to the panorama that sweeps out before you.