I go to the theatre.

Yesterday I went to the theatre. I felt so terribly sophisticated, knowing that I would be mixing with the cultural elite and marvelling at dramatic flair and poise. Then I remembered that I live in Coventry.

My parents went to the Belgrade (our theatre in Coventry) last year to see fat ballet. It was fat women, doing ballet. This, however, was a great play - the Miser, by Moliere. He's the French version of Richard Curtis, albeit 400 years ago. A bit of rom, lots of com.

The lead guy was really good. Funny, characterful, commanding the stage. I thought he was Basil Fawlty meets Rab C Nesbitt. Then I realised it was Rab C Nesbitt. Thought he looked familiar.

And sorry to Moliere, but my favourite part was when the guy's wig fell off during a particularly dramatic scene of sobbery. He fell to the ground and shuffled along the stage on his side, fitting himself back into his hair. What a professional.

It had, of course, been translated from French. I believe several people have read it, but yesterday evening it had been translated into a wonderfully accessible English, filled with knowing winks in the direction of the current financial crisis. A good time was had by all, I dare say.

I've often thought theatre to be a good film's dull and slightly poncey little brother. And, well, it still is.