Horoscopes With Keith Brown (From the Theatre Desk)

The editor let me pick my own images to accompany this article. He told me to pick ones that I thought were 'appropriate'. Well fuck that, this is the Gielgud Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue. The theatre was home to a legendary cat named Beerbohm, who used to live in the theatre and wander across the stage and attack actor's props. He also apparently had a girlfriend in the Lyric Theatre. Isn't that bloody marvelous? 

In case you haven't heard, i'm doing the horoscopes this month. News, News, News, News is experiencing an unprecedented staff shortage. Weirdly enough, the shortage has nothing to do with the pandemic. Nearly all of our journalists, Eileen Kirkup, Alejandro Hitchens, Muriel Sticks & A. A. Gill Jr. included, were having lunch in YO! Sushi (that's what our shithouse editor considers a Christmas work lunch), and came down with severe food poisoning. And just to be clear, NNNN isn't attacking or even criticizing YO! Sushi and their unscrupulous hygiene practices. They're our longest serving sponsor, and have supported us through thick and thin, including back in 2018 when we influenced that election in Bhutan and in 2009 when our former resident health writer, Dr. Mehmet Stoppard, advocated the use of blood-letting via leeches to cure apathy.

I should also make it clear that I know absolutely nothing about horoscopes. My expertise is in theatre, dramaturgy, ballet & 19th century erotic literature. But, for some reason, I was deemed qualified to fill in for Charlotte Anne de Quaque, the usual writer of this column. I hope my passivity, my lack of interest, my ignorance, my snobbishness and my hostility towards everyone who receives wisdom and clarity from this column doesn't deter you from receiving wisdom and clarity from this column. Let's get this fucking shit over with:

Aries

This is the Harold Pinter Theatre on Panton Street. Formerly the 'Comedy Theatre', like the Gielgud it was renamed for an icon of 20th century theatre, Harold Pinter.

You'll feel at some points this month like you're being handled by a higher power like a puppet via invisible marionette strings. The higher power will have severe arthritis and this will prove cumbersome to deal with. But don't let this get you down. Steer into the skid, so to speak. Let yourself be dragged to and fro in an uncoordinated mess. The onus is on you to find patterns in the hubbub this submission has created. When you've reached some clarity as to what those patterns are, use it wisely. It's important to carve out a path for yourself and the transition between the old you and the new you will not be without considerable challenges, but you will eventually be rewarded in abundance.

Taurus

Yes, I've been to theatres outside of London!.... granted the RSC isn't the fringiest of theatres, but it holds a very special place in this writer's heart. I was once punched by Trevor Nunn for giving his production of Pericles a poor review. Granted, I had posted the review an hour before I saw the production, but I think that was uncalled for. 

Oh, you are in for a treat this month, you Tauruses, or Taurei, whatever you're called. Something really cool will happen to you, I can feel it. Be vigilant though. Avoid people at all costs and build up a supply of food to last at least 8 months. If anyone attempts to call/message you, reply quickly and make your rugged intensity known to them. You'll be having some pretty fucked up nightmares around mid-January, but they are merely the calm before the storm. The waves of feeling you'll experience after these nightmares will be close to euphoric. I wish I was a Taurus. Strap yourself in for a wild, wild ride, my brothers and sisters. Don't de-ice your cars or anything stupid like that. The ice is there for a reason, it chose to set on your windshield. Let the moon dictate when you bathe. Follow these two rules and you'll be swimming in ecstasy.

Gemini

You're better off standing in the Globe Theatre, the benches will render your buttocks unconscious for weeks. Legend has it that Shakespeare did this on purpose out of concern for public health. He wanted people to stand up more. He also ran Zumba classes in Aldgate prison. He was what's now known in youthful circles as a 'fitness Karen'.

This will be a month of healing. I know a lot of you have been hurting these last few months, with unruly Mars and Darius the Satyr constantly creating cosmic obstacles for you, but there is a reason this has happened. We know what you did last summer. You chose not to abide by the psychic laws of the hyperkinetic universe. You really are a cunt. But, it's OK. Things are looking up. Just don't read newspapers, don't answer the door and above all, don't wash until the moon says it's OK. 

Cancer

Well, I personally love the National Theatre building. To hell with Prince Charles. Some say the foyer feels like an airport, but why shouldn't a theatre's foyer feel like an airport? In a way, you are waiting for a departure, a departure to Elsinore or a departure to a Run-down Russian estate. You are waiting to depart to foreign lands. Nowadays you even have to leave your bags in storage due to threats of terror. So it all fits.

OH MY LORD, YOU ARE A LUCKY BASTARD IF YOU ARE A CANCER!!

Seriously, why must I be a Sagittarius? We're going to have a shit time this month (but I'll get to that).

So Cancers, you will experience new bonds with past enemies. The solar energy emitted from these new found bonds will radiate throughout the universe and heal the cosmic wounds that form a chasm in the celestial spheres, creating a newfoundlove that ties up all the loose ends. It is highly likely you'll shag someone this month. I cannot stress this enough, the moon decides when you scrub yourself in the tub. 

Leo

Cornwall's Minack Theatre is divine. This writer made the absolute genius move of bringing a cushion, because again, your arse will feel like it's been spanked by Thanos after three hours of watching King Lear sitting on those stone steps. 

I'm bored already. I don't know what happens to Leos this month. You'll be mauled by a giant bear. There, happy now? 

Fine, the sun is telling me that you'll experience a period of intense calm this month. Whether you're a key worker, or are working at home, you'll embrace this serenity with open arms. Don't let no naysayer put you down, girlfriend. Embrace the calm above all else. Goats will play a significant role in your spiritual healing as well. So, look out for goats. Can I mention Lucifer? Or are Satanism and astrology not linked? I genuinely don't know. At this point I'm convinced people who believe in astrology are also possible Nazis. Nothing is off the table nowadays. All charlatanism is loosely connected in one giant dumb web. 

Virgo

Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, in Regent's Park (where else did you think it'd be? Damascus?) is another bewitching venue this writer has visited many times.

You'll spend this month intoxicated on cheap alcohol from Lidl. 

The universe is likely to spin twice as fast for you this month, my dear Virgos. Don't let this scare you. The gentleman operating it is high as a kite and means no harm. Remember, chemistry is the most important thing to consider when undertaking a new role in life. Always ask yourself, do I have chemistry with this person? Do I have chemistry with this new job? Make decisions based on chemistry, and the moon, don't bathe if the moon tells you not to, how many times do I need to tell you?!

Libra

The Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester is still, funnily enough, also used as a commodities exchange. I saw Maxine Peake play Hamlet here. I sat in the front row and managed to collect some of her spit whilst she recited the 'O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I?' soliloquy. I attempted to exchange this commodity before realizing I had no idea how the financial world works. 

OK, this is a batshit crazy one. I hate to say this, but, you will die this month. I know, it sucks. You will trip on a toy fimble and fly down the stairs, cracking your head open. Blood will gush out and you'll be pronounced dead by paramedics within 20 minutes. 

But it's not all bad news. The celestial spheres will align themselves to form an alliance of kinetic souls. This is not to be bulked at. Cease the moment, Libras, turn those frowns upside downs. 

Don't let the moon dictate when you bathe this month. You'll only be bathing in your own blood anyway.

Scorpio

South Hill Park Arts Centre in Bracknell, Berkshire is a mighty fine institution. This writer saw a tremendous production of the Scottish play a few years ago, the actress who played the second witch caught my eye in particular. One for the future, methinks.  

More bad news for you Scorpios, i'm afraid. You will experience a sort of spiritual paralysis in January that will force you to begin several weird hobbies. Said hobbies will not be economically viable for you in the long term and the inability to fulfill these strange new interests will make you frustrated and full of nascent rage. The clouds will align and the lunar rays will penetrate your skin, so that's something. Venus is always with you, remember that. She's a fucking amazing lass she is. I wish I was a Scorpio. The things i'd do to that Venus. oooooh. Hubba hubba shuckseedoodle. I'm sorry, a lot of my readers are lapsed nuns, I shouldn't be engaging in such disgusting verbal mouthage. 

Don't be afraid to crack open a tub of Greek yogurt and pour it over yourself at your local tip whilst laughing maniacally. 

Sagittarius

The Old Vic, in Waterloo, London is one of the oldest, most beautiful theatres in the World. It was the original home of the National Theatre company from 1963 until the building on the Southbank opened in 1976. Sarah Siddons, an 18th century tragedienne, is said to haunt the theatre (because of course theatres have ghosts. The only ghosts this writer believes in are theatre ghosts, all other ghosts are shit).

So, as I said earlier, Sagittariuses are in for a shitty month. Perhaps the shittiest of all. 

Do I have to elaborate? Do you really want to know? Wouldn't you rather have a surprise? No? For fuck's sake. 

You'll stub your toe. 

Capricorn

Oh, the Theatre Royal, Haymarket. One of my favourites. Boy does this place have some ghosts. John Baldwin Buckstone, a manager of the theatre in the 19th century, has been spotted by Dame Judi Dench and Sir Patrick Stewart. I genuinely don't think Ms Dench is capable of lying, so you better believe it.

Oh, Capricorns have it great! Capricorns won't stub their toe. Capricorns are little angels. Capricorns are the teacher's pets of the universe. It sends down cosmic energy, mainly in the form of Wi-Fi, to you every day because you're such goody goodies. No, i'm not bitter, i'm just pissed off, and bitter, and twisted. I was almost a Capricorn. I would have lead a very different life if I were. I would have become a renowned stage actor. I would have played Hamlet, Lear, Holofernes in Love's Labours Lost. I could have been a contender, I could have been somebody, instead of a deadbeat theatre critic, which is what I am, let's face it. 

Aquarius 

I know all these theatres are not only very London-centric, but also England-centric. So here's the Lyric Theatre, Belfast. Liam Neeson is a patron and has performed here many times. I'm not going to do a 'Taken' joke. Instead i'll do a joke about the time Neeson admitted he once wanted to kill a random black person. Umm... so racially-aggravated assault? What a bummer, huh?

It will have been a very tough year for you Aquariuses. Well it's about to get tougher. Not only will you stub your toe, but you'll also lose your job, lose your mortgage, lose your freedom and most strangely of all, lose your hands. Don't ask me how. The universe blah blah blah, cosmic rays blah blah blah, Darius the Satyr and Mars and Venus and Jupiter and Kepler 22-B blah blah blah Professor Brian Cox. I don't know, OK? This is not my area of expertise, if you're actually gleaning any wisdom from these readings, you need your head examined. Or you need to grow up. I'm a frustrated, middle-aged, balding, pot-bellied, old-fashioned romantic old fart currently nursing a pint of absinthe, poring over Microsoft Bing to see which star sign is next. Get over yourself and build up some inner steel instead of consulting crap like this. You know how, you do. You have the tools, you are enough, you are enough. You have the answers. Not in a Kanye West kind of way, but you have the answers. I believe in you with every fibre of my being, random NNNN reader. 

Pisces

Time to downsize. This is the Watermill Theatre in Newbury, West Berkshire. It's a converted watermill (what did you think it used to be? A Ladbrokes?) The Propeller Theatre Company began life at the Watermill. Isn't it such a cosy, charming, delicious, joyous little sanctuary? 

OK, if you're still reading after that last entry, you must be a total nut job. So i'm going to treat you like one. stop the steal! Trump won the election! He won in a landslide! QAnon! Trump 2020! Stop the steal! Stop the steal! The truth is out there! Sasquatch 2024! Save America! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! Ed Sheeran is the greatest folk singer of all time! Peter Kay is hilarious! Never Say Never Again is by far the greatest Bond film, Phantom Menace is the best Star Wars film. Lindsay Lohan is a better stage actor than Simon Russell Beale, Mark Rylance and Kathryn Hunter combined! The Gielgud Theatre should be renamed the Gareth Gates Theatre. Henry VI Part III is the best Shakespeare play! Shakespeare and Dickens are the same person. Melons! Kumquat! Lights! Camera! Poopy pants! Take me hoooooome, country roaaaaaaaads, to the plaaaaaaaace, I beloooooooong, Clacton-On-Sea!!!

Right, that should do it. That was truly an awful ordeal and I want to distance myself from everything i've just written. 

The glorious Kathryn Hunter in 'Kafka's Monkey' at The Young Vic. If you have an opportunity to see a great actor weave their magic, grab it with both hands. Actors are ethereal, they don't last forever. I will forever regret not seeing Henry Irving on stage. But I suppose there's nothing I could've done about being born 60 years after he died. 

I cannot fucking wait for theatre to return. I miss everything. I miss finding out my seat is in the middle of the row and making very polite British middle-class guilty jokes like "Oops, there's always one isn't there? ha ha!". I miss walking up the old staircases in West End theatres and seeing all the old posters from past productions and not being able to stop and look at them for as long as i'd want because people are behind me. I miss the musty, mystical smell that graces your nostrils as you enter the auditorium, I always imagine an old haggard theatre witch has cast an ancient spell on the space and anyone who walks into it is immediately spellbound and held in captivity till the players be done with thee. I miss being told "this isn't your seat, sir" and arguing my case in hushed tones until i'm forced to admit my error and laugh politely but silently cursing the young hipster couple who clearly don't really want to be there. I miss walking out into the midsummer evening in the interval for a smoke break, listening to people talk about how the actor playing Tybalt who happens to be in Coronation Street looks shorter in the flesh. I miss the moment when the lights go down in the auditorium, and everyone in the audience feels this spine-tingling sense of danger. Anything could happen, within reason. I miss the coughing, the whispering, the laughing, the rustling of sweet wrappers (seriously who brings sweets to watch Medea?), the clinking of champagne glasses, the smell of old patrons some of whom would have seen Olivier, Ashcroft, maybe even David Garrick in this very theatre. I miss it with an intensity no horoscopes could ever articulate. And until then, I think I speak for all theatre lovers here, I am not the person I am meant to be without my beloved theatre. Now, fuck off, i'm off to eat a crunchie and binge-watch Arrested Development. 

If you thought Keith Brown's readings actually made some sort of cosmic sense, please email dignitas@dignitas.ch to book an appointment with one of our specialists today. And if you think that's too dark a joke to end the article on, don't worry, it's not a joke.