The answer, it transpired, was Cafe Royale in San Francisco. Why? Not least because Shakespeare's Henry IV and Henry V were being performed there, for free, at the bar, by the aptly named San Francisco Theater Pub company.
This isn't the first time they've done plays in this bar, but it is their first Shakespeare. They have some fairly strict rules, such as several scenes of any play they do must take place in a drinking establishment, at least one character in every scene must be drinking, and a scene doesn't finish until that drink is consumed. All very commendable.
I arrived early to get a seat and enjoyed a cheese sandwich and a beer, just to get in the English mood. I even had a (decidedly non-English-like) chat with Betsy and Jackie, two visitors from Georgia - the state, not the former Russian republic - who were enjoying their first time in SF and thought they'd try something "West Coast". Shakespeare in a pub, how much more Californian can you get?
Then it all started, and it was very good. The actors were superb, and although I don't believe any kings historically spoke with American accents I was willing to overlook that. Ever since school, where Mr Clark doled out the parts in Macbeth and we had to read it through in cod-Scottish tones, I've had to admit that the language is just plain difficult, but tonight I sat back and let it wash over me. I expect the beers helped too. If only Mr Clark had incentivised us with alcohol.
It was all a little intimate. The action moved around the small room, as we were mainly meant to be in the Eastcheap pub The Boar's Head, heavily featured in the play. We were basically sat inside several scenes, and at one point Prince Hal clapped me a few times on the shoulder. Henry IV expired on the pool table, and a grumpy Katharine of France sat down next to me scowling. Plus ca change. Also, squeezing three plays into an-hour-and-a-half meant that things trotted along at a breathless pace, and the strain of 16th Century English did tell on the brain after a while. So I bought another drink.
And then, with the wooing of Katharine and Falstaff's expulsion, it was all over. There was much clapping from the small but enthusiastic crowd, and I concluded that a muse of fire had indeed ascended this brightest heaven of invention. If Shakespeare had been there, his drinks would have been on the house.
The stage is set.
Enjoying a drink with Prince Hal and Sir John Falstaff.
Henry IV, uneasy that his son is spending so much time in a pub.
The action moves to the bar.
Princess Katharine, unamused.
The king is dead.
All the men and women, merely players!
