A bit more culcha

Sitting on my arse for three hours watching anything fills me with dread. I get a sore bum sitting on a plane for two hours so this was something that I was not looking forward to.
The RSC production of Richard 11 (as in Shakespeare) was showing at the Curzon and Jan, who studied it for an A Level, wanted to go. Me, trying pretending not to be a philistine, agreed.
The doors opened at 18.40, the play started at 19.15, presumably to let all the white haired folk get home in time for their Horlicks, and finished at 22.15. What I hadn't realised was that it was a live performance from Stratford whereas I thought that it was a film of a performance.
OK, down to the nitty gritty. After a straight 1.5 hours in the packed 57 seater auditorium (with little wriggle room) my bum was starting to really hurt which was very distracting. David Tennant, who I don't think is a very good actor, played a very camp King Richard and had me giggling at times, but I was the only one, and admittedly he did get better as time went on. All in all I don't think it is a 'strong' play and unless you have studied it then the dialogue is somewhat incomprehensible though you do get the gist of what's happening. I realise that I could be showing my ignorance or maybe just describing 'the kings new clothes'. Your mileage may vary.
I have always thought that clapping in a theatre was about the audience telling the cast how much they enjoyed it. When a slightly very smug chap started to clap enthusiastically at the interminable bowing at the end I felt that maybe he was just a bit too enthusiastic whilst sitting in a theatre 200 miles away.