Whenever casting directors or whoever ask me what I've seen at the theatre lately, I usually cough in a mildly embarrassed fashion and apologetically mumble "...well, it's difficult to find time when you're on stage so much yourself, but..." and then trot out my prepared answer.
Last week however, to my lovely wife's delight, I absented myself at bath-time to see THREE shows.
"Beauty Queen" was, of course, a delight. And surprisingly un-agonising to watch yet another very fine actor doing a proper Irish accent in the role of Mr P Dooley. It's extraordinary how the same play, with the same words and largely the same blocking can be so transformed in the hands of new actors, but it was an enthralling two hours. I think Alan DeVally has actually morphed into Ray - it's scary.
Then Friday to the Oxford Playhouse - where I made my own stage debut in 1978 - to see Ben Warren (Tony in "Abs Party Mk I") in Theatre Alibi's "Ministry of Fear". I'm ashamed to say that there was a time when the term "physical theatre" would have made me scrunch up the Guardian and draw my knees into my chest, but that was before I'd actually seen any. It was breathtaking work, and worth every penny of...whatever they charge for it.
But the surprise, the unexpected gem, was "Loving April" at my local village hall. Small-scale touring outfit OTC really pulled it off with a gorgeously simple drama about a deaf girl (the remarkable Sarah Thomas-Lane) who's an object of pity and abuse in the local community, but who ends up teaching others rather more about honour and respect than she ever learns from them. Lovely ensemble and multi-role playing in a tiny, tiny space.
Monday, 22 March 2010
Thursday, 4 March 2010
Goodbye
My grandma died today. It's not really an appropriate subject for this journal, but I mention it because she was an enthusiastic performer herself.
Because I was a "late entrant to the profession" as they say, by the time I was working in the West End she was very old and had already succumbed to Alzheimer's. So sadly, she never saw me there, or on TV or film, or on tour with LCT, or anywhere except some small fringe venues. However, she was very proud of her grandson - "the ACTOR" as she'd tell anyone who would listen - and the world is a much poorer place without her. She was a lovely woman who never tired of telling me what a lovely shaped head I have, what a funny name she thought Jake was and how very much she loved me. Good night, God bless x
Because I was a "late entrant to the profession" as they say, by the time I was working in the West End she was very old and had already succumbed to Alzheimer's. So sadly, she never saw me there, or on TV or film, or on tour with LCT, or anywhere except some small fringe venues. However, she was very proud of her grandson - "the ACTOR" as she'd tell anyone who would listen - and the world is a much poorer place without her. She was a lovely woman who never tired of telling me what a lovely shaped head I have, what a funny name she thought Jake was and how very much she loved me. Good night, God bless x
Saturday, 27 February 2010
Deja Entendu
I'm driving back from London today, listening illegally to my mp3 player in the car when Josh Rouse starts up and I'm transported, instantly, to Perth Theatre and the first few shows of "Abigail's Party". Extraordinary, to mis-quote Noel Coward, how potent house music is. And how enduring.
Even a run as short as "Beauty Queen" leaves its mark - I can't watch that bloody Thomson holidays ad without the shudder of excitement and apprehension that "Welcome to My World" used to generate over the tannoy. And although I'm never likely to hear the original music from "Midnight" in a shop or restaurant for obvious reasons, a few bars of Jonathan Day's jazzy intro and I feel the lack of a kimono immediately.
What's odder is that I can look at those show posters and souvenirs without a pang - it's just the madeleine of the music which does it. Like visiting, very briefly, someone you were once much better friends with.
Even a run as short as "Beauty Queen" leaves its mark - I can't watch that bloody Thomson holidays ad without the shudder of excitement and apprehension that "Welcome to My World" used to generate over the tannoy. And although I'm never likely to hear the original music from "Midnight" in a shop or restaurant for obvious reasons, a few bars of Jonathan Day's jazzy intro and I feel the lack of a kimono immediately.
What's odder is that I can look at those show posters and souvenirs without a pang - it's just the madeleine of the music which does it. Like visiting, very briefly, someone you were once much better friends with.
Saturday, 20 February 2010
Wrap Day
Josh is cooking lunch (even though he's the sound designer), Flo (sound recordist) is reading yet another Viking romance, costume designer Ilishio is repairing 1st AD Raz's jacket. And Amin, Loveday and I are trying to come up with the dialogue for the final scene.
It seems bizarre that the closing seconds are still up in the air, but it's rather consistent with the whole process, this collaborative aspect. The issue of John's redemption or otherwise is resolved in this final scene, and being responsible for the clarity or muddiness of these final moments is a worry, as Amin is inevitably called out to frame up shots with DOP Matt.
It seems bizarre that the closing seconds are still up in the air, but it's rather consistent with the whole process, this collaborative aspect. The issue of John's redemption or otherwise is resolved in this final scene, and being responsible for the clarity or muddiness of these final moments is a worry, as Amin is inevitably called out to frame up shots with DOP Matt.
As you'll have gathered, it's a busy set. One geezer hanging around that we really don't mind at all is Lucca Messer, who is taking some fabulous stills of the action and of the off-camera moments. He manages to be unobtrusive and yet catch the crucial action beautifully, whilst recording the days in reportage style.
Of course, I have too many fajitas at lunch. Thank God this isn't a two-week shoot. I'd have to get my trousers altered.
Friday, 19 February 2010
Location, location
Mercifully there's been no exteriors on this film - that last thing you would want in February is to be outside in the snow on, say, Worlebury encampment in Weston-Super-Mare. You know who you are...
Instead we've been variously shooting in toilets (better than it sounds), hospital wards and corridors and now, for the domestic scenes, in a very plush converted barn. Very nice.
What's setting this apart from the films I've done lately is that it's actually film. And that makes a big difference.
The stakes are always higher as ideally you work on a ratio of 2:1 or at worst 3:1. Ideally, of course, it should be one take but well, that's the Holy Grail. There's also the incomparable experience of actually hearing money being spent as the film stock runs through the camera, coupled with the audible groans from the crew when a plane goes over or you muff a line.
On the flipside there's an amazing focus that you don't seem to get when you're shooting digital, coupled with all the cool paraphernalia that goes with film, too. Exciting.
Instead we've been variously shooting in toilets (better than it sounds), hospital wards and corridors and now, for the domestic scenes, in a very plush converted barn. Very nice.
What's setting this apart from the films I've done lately is that it's actually film. And that makes a big difference.
The stakes are always higher as ideally you work on a ratio of 2:1 or at worst 3:1. Ideally, of course, it should be one take but well, that's the Holy Grail. There's also the incomparable experience of actually hearing money being spent as the film stock runs through the camera, coupled with the audible groans from the crew when a plane goes over or you muff a line.
On the flipside there's an amazing focus that you don't seem to get when you're shooting digital, coupled with all the cool paraphernalia that goes with film, too. Exciting.
The Way I Like It...
...was the original title for the film, and in its first incarnation it was a very different movie indeed. It might have been called "Georgia, Peter, Mrs Perry and ummm, John" for all the impact my character had on the story. But by the time the casting happened it was quite different, and it's had several drafts since. Amin, the writer-director, hasn't been an English speaker all that long but he has a very singular turn of phrase which I really like.
Friday, 5 February 2010
Doctor in the House
It was the holy trinity of castings - a corporate, a theatre job (understudy - boo) and a film. And I got the film. Exit Steve Dineen, unemployed actor and handyman bitch...enter John (surname to be decided), consultant heart specialist, breezy charmer and control freak.
Come to think of it. it's all film at the moment. I've just been sent a script for a completely top secret feature that I'm not even allowed to speak about, or discuss the plot of, or speculate about which names might be in the frame for which part.
Luckily I'm a discreet sort of a chap. Unlike someone I did a sabbatical year with, who was contacted by a certain government department and invited in for a cosy chat with some gentlemen who were known only by their initials. He instantly told all of us about it, of course. Sure enough, next day, he had a second, steelier phone call cancelling the appointment
Come to think of it. it's all film at the moment. I've just been sent a script for a completely top secret feature that I'm not even allowed to speak about, or discuss the plot of, or speculate about which names might be in the frame for which part.
Luckily I'm a discreet sort of a chap. Unlike someone I did a sabbatical year with, who was contacted by a certain government department and invited in for a cosy chat with some gentlemen who were known only by their initials. He instantly told all of us about it, of course. Sure enough, next day, he had a second, steelier phone call cancelling the appointment
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
Casting Diversions
Last week my agent got me three castings.
I just want to let that sentence hang delightfully in the air for a moment...
My everyday opinion of Andy and Tod is that of one who flings himself under Shiva's juggernaut; on weeks like this, though, I truly wish to immolate myself on their flaming pyres. The death of all three of us would halt my career pretty sharpish, though, so I'll just confine myself to ardent gratitude. Cheers boys.
I just want to let that sentence hang delightfully in the air for a moment...
My everyday opinion of Andy and Tod is that of one who flings himself under Shiva's juggernaut; on weeks like this, though, I truly wish to immolate myself on their flaming pyres. The death of all three of us would halt my career pretty sharpish, though, so I'll just confine myself to ardent gratitude. Cheers boys.
Friday, 15 January 2010
Opus Day
The Work - as Christopher Wren modestly called St Paul's - is a workshop on Voice which I've been asked to run with a local AmDram group in Wantage; and I have committed about the same time and effort to this enterprise as I did to both my degrees combined.
I ran one of these puppies last year for the Oxfordshire Drama Network - a sort of support group for AmDram companies throughout the county - and that time I tackled it by thinking of a really funky title and then writing something around it. I used to do this a lot for my MA, like "Was Aristophanes' Comedy Just For the Birds?" and so on.
But a whole workshop on one topic? And voice? The most nebulous, subjective, contentious subject of all?
Too late now - I'm off to nail jelly to the wall. Fingers crossed no-one's read Cicely Berry too closely or the game's up...
I ran one of these puppies last year for the Oxfordshire Drama Network - a sort of support group for AmDram companies throughout the county - and that time I tackled it by thinking of a really funky title and then writing something around it. I used to do this a lot for my MA, like "Was Aristophanes' Comedy Just For the Birds?" and so on.
But a whole workshop on one topic? And voice? The most nebulous, subjective, contentious subject of all?
Too late now - I'm off to nail jelly to the wall. Fingers crossed no-one's read Cicely Berry too closely or the game's up...
Thursday, 14 January 2010
A Possible Explanation for the Difficulty I am Experiencing in Writing my Grand Opus
"There is no more sombre obstacle to great art than the pram in the hallway"
Cyril Connolly
Cyril Connolly
Audition, Schmaudition
In the pantheon of auditions, it was somewhere in the middle. No-one said "Wow, you just blew the others AWAY! That's it! I've found my Hamlet!!", but then no-one stopped the audition to call security or Equity.
It was certainly not in the same ball park as the one where I was invited to "...express yourself physically, like a...well, just...express yourself physically, you know?" or the one where I had to show up in my dressing gown because the CD was incapable of just picturing people in dressing gowns.
Sometimes they're special for other reasons, like schaudenfreude - I did a workshop audition once where I watched someone (infinitely more suitable for the part than I was, too) gradually talk himself out of a job. Extraordinary. And once in a commercial casting, I left the room, realised I'd forgotten my water and re-entered just as someone said "Well, I just LOVED him!".
This was one of the ones when you close the door, put your papers in the bag and chalk it up to experience. This position is becoming ever less tenable the older I get.
It was certainly not in the same ball park as the one where I was invited to "...express yourself physically, like a...well, just...express yourself physically, you know?" or the one where I had to show up in my dressing gown because the CD was incapable of just picturing people in dressing gowns.
Sometimes they're special for other reasons, like schaudenfreude - I did a workshop audition once where I watched someone (infinitely more suitable for the part than I was, too) gradually talk himself out of a job. Extraordinary. And once in a commercial casting, I left the room, realised I'd forgotten my water and re-entered just as someone said "Well, I just LOVED him!".
This was one of the ones when you close the door, put your papers in the bag and chalk it up to experience. This position is becoming ever less tenable the older I get.
Tuesday, 12 January 2010
Down in Town
I've just laid down the script to "A Village Life", a show I'm being seen for tomorrow. I wouldn't normally dream of posting before the event (out of superstition, I suppose) and the puritan in me has guilt about not staying up late to read, re-read and make notes on the script, but I'm not twenty any more. Suffice to say that I've read it plenty, researched the company and the director and I'm probably as right for it as thirty or forty other actors my age - some of whom I'll run into at Spotlight tomorrow, no doubt. Wish me luck.
Friday, 8 January 2010
Next Big Thing
I see that Toby Stephens is playing Henry in The Real Thing next year at the Donmar. Normally the vicissitudes of who-gets-cast-in-what don't bother me too much, but I confess this news fills my head with scorpions - and not cuddly scorpions, either.
You see, Henry is the role in which I first acted - I mean properly acted. There's a line in the play where he talks about something responding "...like a raised blind" and that's exactly how it felt to do that part. I'd never seriously considered acting as a career before that show; afterwards I knew I'd never be really happy doing anything else. The experience has, I suppose, committed me to a working life of shocking uncertainty and wildly oscillating mood.
This isn't a coherent post. I'm not saying that I could be a serious contender to star in a Stoppard revival at the Donmar, I'm neither egotistical nor deluded enough for that. But being the right age for that part when it's being revived is a watershed moment for me.
That's enough now.
You see, Henry is the role in which I first acted - I mean properly acted. There's a line in the play where he talks about something responding "...like a raised blind" and that's exactly how it felt to do that part. I'd never seriously considered acting as a career before that show; afterwards I knew I'd never be really happy doing anything else. The experience has, I suppose, committed me to a working life of shocking uncertainty and wildly oscillating mood.
This isn't a coherent post. I'm not saying that I could be a serious contender to star in a Stoppard revival at the Donmar, I'm neither egotistical nor deluded enough for that. But being the right age for that part when it's being revived is a watershed moment for me.
That's enough now.
Saturday, 2 January 2010
Brum Fun
To Birmingham to see my chum Alex - who's also also Jake's godfather - in "The Gruffalo", which I think he's been touring on and off for about three years. He and I worked together on Midnight in 2005 and found a mutual love of Daily Mail Quizwords and sabotaging stage props - which he would then have to find or repair in time for the show. Only fun for me really, then.
I saw this show before in Milton Keynes, where it somehow managed not to be swamped by the size of the theatre, but at Birmingham Town Hall they're up against it. It's a cavernous and soulless place with no raked seating and poor acoustics. In fact you could put "Miss Saigon" in there and it would still feel tinny. They're a great company, though - here on temporary posting from Australia (cheaper to fly them over than rehearse UK actors) and due to return in early January where, bizarrely, my nephew will see the exact same show with the same actors.
Alex is great as the predators - he's not my casting age or type so I don't mind him being good - and Jake and his friend Sam love it. Although they love flipping their seats up and down more...
I saw this show before in Milton Keynes, where it somehow managed not to be swamped by the size of the theatre, but at Birmingham Town Hall they're up against it. It's a cavernous and soulless place with no raked seating and poor acoustics. In fact you could put "Miss Saigon" in there and it would still feel tinny. They're a great company, though - here on temporary posting from Australia (cheaper to fly them over than rehearse UK actors) and due to return in early January where, bizarrely, my nephew will see the exact same show with the same actors.
Alex is great as the predators - he's not my casting age or type so I don't mind him being good - and Jake and his friend Sam love it. Although they love flipping their seats up and down more...
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