Thursday 10 April 2014

Last week, we had the first performance of our short play night at the DukeBox Theatre, Hove. It went pretty damn well - we ended up having to turn away about twenty people who had turned up on the off chance that they could buy a ticket on the door. For those who got in, it was a great night - eight brand new, short plays by new and local writers. I'm already ploughing my way through submissions for the next night, which will be sometime in late June. Actually, not 'some time' - I know the date; it's just that there's a very good chance that we'll make it a two night run rather than just one. 

What's been most pleasing about this process - and I mean this sincerely - is that people are writing for the first time in ages, or, in a couple of cases, the first time, full stop. I think a lot of us have this hankering to write a little something, and many of us - most of us, in fact - never do. Obviously for 99% of people, it's for the reasons (excuses) that annoy all the writers who actually do manage to write - excuses like 'I haven't got the time', or 'I can't come up with good ideas.' I think one of the major reasons, however, why would-be writers don't, is very simple: Nobody Cares. I'll say that again so we're all on the same page. Nobody Cares. 

Seriously, all those half-finished stories and ideas for novels and fillms and radio sitcoms that litter your bottom drawer? Nobody knows about them beyond you wittering on about this great idea you've got, and thus nobody is waiting for them. More importantly, then, nobody needs them. (and by the way, if you've assumed that it's me that has a bottom drawer full of unfinished and unworked ideas, then, well, shush.) 

And if it's true that nobody cares about or wants your great story (and, sorry, it is true), then it follows that a thing like the short play night becomes really important: at it's most base, at it's simplest: it's an excuse to write. And finally, a showcase for your writing. I think, essentially, that's what I've considered most important about this. Not that anyone actually needs an excuse to write (but, actually: people need an excuse to write). 

Last year, I decided pretty early on that I wasn't going to direct anything this season. I've been directing every year for the last three, and it's always meant that I never really got a chance to see anything in the Brighton Fringe, which was something that I wanted to rectify, since I was missing out on a lot of pretty good stuff. So, firm decision: no directing this year. However, that plan didn't go to - uh, well, plan, since I have found myself in a production of The Crucible. 

It's a two week production, which will be the longest run I've been personally involved with (and after being at work all day too - PITY ME), and it's a pretty big part. I'm just about beginning to feel the weight of pressure on me: the production opens in about three and a half weeks, and in many ways I'm still finding my feet. One of the challenges is that I'm playing John Proctor, which, if I'm honest, is not neccesacrily a role I would have thought of myself first for. Historically, I've always thought of Proctor as being somewhat alpha male - all tall and broad shouldered, which, with the best will in the world, is not ever going to be even your third description of me. So, there has to be another way in to the character, which I'm still working my way through. In fact, I had intended to essay how I was approaching the character in this blog, but - as might be expected - time in rehearsals, and learning lines, has robbed that time from me. 

There are other, exciting things planned for later this year (and, somehow, even next year) ... But I'll chat more about that another time ..  

Tuesday 18th March 2014

Not long now til the deadline for our second round of submissions for Cast Iron, our semi regular night of new writing for the theatre that we've set up in Brighton - actually, at the DukeBox Theatre. I've had a couple of submissions come in during the last few days, and look forward to reading more. We're already coming to the end of rehearsals for the first batch of plays, which get performed on Saturday 5th April (there'll be a link around here at some point). Despite my best intentions, I'm in one of them, and - still - the lines aren't quite there yet, although I'll concede that they are more well learned that I think they are, if that makes any sense.

For the first night, we're premiering eight new plays, which is a pretty tall order. We've got people directing one play, appearing in another (or two others), while writing up another. In some cases, this is while holding down normal things like jobs and families, as well as rehearsing for their Brighton Fringe shows. This has clearly been a bit exhausting for everyone, not least because of trying to wrap their heads around the logistics of sorting a batch of rehearsals that people can all attend at the same time - while attending a completely different rehearsal elsewhere. 

Partially, that's the reason why the number of accepted plays this time round will be slightly less - possibly seven, probably six. That's slightly less pressure on me as the reader, but also slightly more pressure on each playwright, with literally two less spaces to fight for. In any case, the deadline is this Friday, although if people were to give me the heads up that they're still working on their final-no-honestly-it's-nearly-finished draft, then I'm sure we could find a but of elbow room over the weekend. 

The acting classes at the NVT have been going really well, ever better than I hoped. I was trying for something a little bit different with this series of classes, and was initially not quite sure if I could pull it off, since what I was trying to achieve was a little more nuanced than the classes I have previously delivered for the New Venture Theatre. But everyone seems to be getting a real kick out of it, and it's been gratifying to see performers dig deep and find new reserves within themselves. Apart from anything else, it's been humbling to see so many people come back week after week. There's a fair chance that I might redraft this series of classes as a course of workshops elsewhere for people who weren't able to make it this time round. 

I suppose the main excuse I could throw up for not having quite learned my lines for the short play night is because all my line learning facilities have been powering up for The Crucible, which is the Brighton Fringe production I'm involved with. Thankfully, the lines for that have been a bit of an easier ride (although I'm no way near to being totally signed off of the script just yet). It's a really interesting production, told in a promenade style, and will be performed in a church. I'm told that tickets are already beginning to sell, despite the fringe still being over a month away. It's a great cast, and that's important: a real company feel that makes rehearsals feel like really productive, fun, and pleasingly hard work. It's actually a pretty difficult atmosphere to pull off: I've been involved in a couple of shows where the grumpiness within the cast has broken out into open hositilties. Which, let's be honest, isn't the greatest way forward in a rehearsal. 

The part I'm playing is something of a challenge, if only because of my somewhat preconceived ideas, and how almost literally everyone else has played him: like many Arthur Miller male characters, he's something of a bear of man, at least figuratively, if not physically. Although the physical aspect is something I'm very aware of: I'm a reasonably slight man (although almost a foot taller if I simply stop slouching) and there's a good few cast members who are easily taller than I am. It makes me acutely aware of how I appear on stage, within the context of the play. Having said all that, both as writer and director, I've always been interested in playing against the expectation. I'm just somewhat startled to be playing it myself ....