7. ONE MUSICAL TO RULE THEM ALL

They'll make a musical out of anything....and I mean anything. Think of any subject or story and they will make a musical about it. I mean who in they're right mind would turn a sprawling novel about the french revolution into a musical and expect it to be a hit? The last few days of the life of Jesus Christ? Anyone? Anyone? There's musicals about presidential assassins, Saint Bernadette, Carrie (the Stephen King novel), Rod Stewart (God help us all), Superman (I kid you not), football, Prisoner Cell Block H, Cats.......listen I could go on and on and on, just believe me they will make a musical out of anything (I should know. I was in a musical about the holocaust. That was fun. A few boys in Dublin nicknamed it 'Schindler's List on Ice'). So it should come as no surprise that there are plans to stage a musical version of THE LORD OF THE RINGS!

BUT WHY??!!!?? I hear you cry.

I DON'T KNOW! PROBABLY TO MAKE MONEY.......I cry back.

The rumour of a musical of Lord of the Rings has been kicking about for a couple of years now, pretty much since the first film came out and was such a success. I never thought it would happen mind you. They say a lot of things in the board rooms of the Wonderful West End and a lot of it never sees daylight, so Lord of the Rings the musical must be a pipe dream. How the hell are they going to condense what is one of the most epic stories in all literature into a three hour musical......and not make it shite? Nah. never happen methinks. Methinks wrong as it turns out. And how do I know i'm wrong.

I had an audition for it.

And herein begins my quest.

The call came from my agent as it always does at the most inopportune time. In this case I was in London's Forbidden Planet reading some comics. This shop is great, you can just go in and have an auld read of anything you want and no one says nothing. Brilliant. That also means that it can be like a library at times and when a phone goes off you inevitably have some nerd pop his head up from behind a copy of the latest Spectacular Spider-Man and gives you a withering glance. His spider sense going off obviously. But I digress. I leave the shop to talk shop with the agent;

'You have a meeting tomorrow with a casting director. Its about Lord of the Rings the musical. They're doing a workshop in a couple of weeks time.'

Workshops are pretty common things for new musicals, a way to test out the material before launching into a full production. Grand. My mind goes back to the Spectacular Nerd-Man and how he'd give his entire collection of Punisher War Zone to have a meeting for Lord of the Rings the musical. Tough titty. 11.00 the next morning I'm sitting in the offices of the Almeida Theatre waiting to meet the casting director. I'm cool as a cucumber 'cos I know I won't get this workshop. I never get auditions for these big musicals like Les Mis or Miss Saigon (not that I care anymore) so I can't see myself doing this one. No, the real reason I'm there, I tell myself is to have a nice auld meeting with this chick as she also casts the Almeida Theatre, one of London's most well regarded theatres. I mean its not even an audition is it? Well within ten minutes it is. It turns out the casting director in question was at my table at the Ian Charleson awards and is very impressed by my CV and she wants me to audition for the director Matthew Warchus (One of England's top directors) and also to read for Gollum. Fine so. Jesus I wish all meetings went that well. And Gollum too. How bad.

Fast forward to 10.50am Thursday morning. I've just spent the past couple of days checking out the books but not watching the films. This morning Matthew I will NOT be Andy Serkis doing Gollum but Jamie Beamish doing Gollum. That'll impress them, my own take on it. Yeah right. But something very strange happens just before I go in to read. The casting director comes out and enquires do I have anything to do during the day, to which I reply no. Which is true because I've recently been living the lazy life of the unemployed.

'Would you mind sticking around for the day and reading with people for us?'

Ah. That's a tricky one. While it would be good fun to be part of a day of auditions (not to mention educational), I will at some point have to read opposite an actor who is going for the same part I am. Now that's hard. You don't normally get to see your competition. Ignorance can be bliss. So I'm not so sure.

'We would pay you of course.'

I'm your man!

So in I go for my audition. It goes fine. The director, however, is giving away nothing whatsoever so I haven't a clue if he likes me or not. Ah well. But the thing is of course I now have to see every other persons audition. This is a very strange situation. But its some craic at the same time. I mean I'm reading all these lines from Lord of the Rings. In the course of the day I play all the hobbits, Gollum and Aragorn. I'm also hopefully impressing the director with my versatility and he'll be more inclined to give me the part. But then my hopes are dashed. I read opposite a guy who's going for Gollum...and he's terrific. Now that was hard. Reading the lines opposite him as I felt any hope of me getting it slip away. Had to be professional mind, couldn't try and mess his audition up in any way. But there it was. He was good though, I mean I would have given it to him hands down. He was very like the film and they seemed to like that. Silly me trying to be an individual. The rest of the day is handy after that. I know I'm not in with a shout so I can chill out a bit. We were auditioning in a place where there was a number of auditions going on and at one stage while I was in the waiting room a lady came over to me.

'Are you auditioning for me?' She asks nicely.

'No. But I will if you want.' I reply cheekily.

'Hmm. Hang on there a minute.' Whereupon she goes into a room brings out a director who looks me up and down, nods his head and goes back into the room.

'Fancy auditioning for a commercial?'

Have no doubt. So just by sitting there I get myself a commercial casting for some new board game. Comedy! Well something good might still come out of the day seeing as Lord of the Rings has gone west on me. The day ends and they thank me very much for doing it and I thank them for the hard cash and all is cool. But what a deadly day even if I didn't get the part. Hopefully it might lead on to something else with this director, he does loads so you never know.

My phone goes at 10.30 the following morning. Tis the agent.

'You didn't get Gollum.'

Well I could have told you that yesterday. Ah well not to worry.

'But they've given you Legolas instead.'

Oh.

Wasn't that the part Orlando Bloom played in the film?

Ha ha. What sweet irony.

6. YOUR ONLY AS YOUNG AS THE PLAYING AGE YOU FEEL

One of the most important things you have as an actor (of course apart from the basic ability to act) is your playing age. Now playing age may not in any way represent how old you are but rather how old you can look. Example; I have an actress friend who is all of 23. Now she looks no more twenty three than I look 50, in other words she looks, or at least can look. a lot younger. Indeed in the production on which we met she played a 14 year old. mmmm nice. (oops here's the police). Ok enough of that you get my drift. The old adage is you never tell someone your age only your playing age.

While on my way to an audition the other day (for a crappy little play that was doing a short tour, wasn't right for the part and pretty much said that in the audition. So it came as no surprise when the director rang my agent to say the same thing. She liked me though so that's cool by me) the phone went. Ah the agent! With some wonderful offer of a regular slot on ITV's The Bill mayhap?

'You have a commercial casting tomorrow.'

Ah. Right. Commercial castings are awful things and they are something actors should never be made do. Of course we do them and freely of our own will because the rewards are so great. One good commercial and you've got a deposit on a flat. One REALLY good commercial and you've got the flat! They can be huge money earners, so that's not the problem with them. No, its what you have to do at the audition is the problem. Next time you watch a shite ad on the telly have a guess at what that poor fecker on your screen making a tit of himself might have had to do for the audition. Chances are you'll probably guess right. Up to that point I had only ever had two commercial castings in my career, one had me jumping around the room in my boxers pretending to be a cool wolfboy, the other had me doing improvised human beatbox with a guy utterly devoid of any form of rhythm (He couldn't even spell it boy). I've heard far worse stories than that let me tell you. But I'm no prude and certainly a huge prostitute so I have no problem with going to a commercial casting tomorrow.

'You have to look 23'

Riiiight. Ok, that's not too bad, I'm 27 but just played 23 in the last play I did. I can pass for a mature 23 maybe.

'No they want young looking people aged between 18 and 23 only. No one older. So I lied and told them you were 23.'

You see my agent does things like that. Lands me in the shite. Now she's the best in the world and a super agent, I wouldn't have enjoyed the small bit of success i've been having only for she had faith in me when I first moved to London because I had none in myself, but sometimes she does mad things. And this is one of those times. I am totally wrong for this. I look too old to look that young. Seriously.

'Dress young and they'll never know'

Me arse! But sure feck it i'll go in anyway, you never know and this'll be me first commercial casting in nearly 3 years so it'll be good practice. As long as I don't get thrown out of there for being a fraud. Which is very possible. So 11 in the morning I'm looking all hip and young and I enter the lobby of some casting studio off Oxford Street to be confronted by my rivals for this ad. And they're all kids. They look like they don't know how to shave yet! Jesus! I feel like walking out there and then but I'm here now, keep going. They hand me the casting form I have to fill out, giving all your details height, age (hmmm) etc and they take a polaroid. Standard practice. The Casting director walks in and has a look at us all, I could swear she's looking at me suspiciously. She asks us our ages. Loads of 21's a few 19's one 22, oh yeah and me? Why 23 of course. Christ I just won an Oscar(TM) for that whopper! She's still looking at me suspiciously. To avert her gaze I look down at my completed casting form to check it, only to realise that I haven't put down 23 as my age but.......28!!!!! Aw for god's sake! What's that all about! I've lied about me age alright but I haven't made meself younger, I've made meself older! What a pleb. So I write in a 3 over the 8 and now everything looks well dodgy. This cannot get worse. I'm seriously considering walking out of the room when they call my name. Right so.

Nothing too bad for this casting thank god. I just have to flirt with the camera pretending she's a gorgeous barmaid. Cool. Done that before, no hassle. Then I have to act as if she's maliciously squeezing my balls and I'm in terrible pain. Have to act for that one as I have no personal experience to draw upon (thank god). Now you may ask what this has to do with a Czech juice drink, which is what this ad is for. Don't worry so will the viewers in prague I'm sure. The director asks me to do a couple of things differently. He's happy and that's it. I made it through without being found out! Grand so.

Two hours later I get a phone call from my agent to say I'm pencilled in for the ad. What? When your pencilled in for something it means that its down to the last three or four people and you aren't to accept any other offers without ringing them first. The last four. Mental!

I still didn't get it though.

But at least they thought I looked a young 23.

How bad.

I wonder if that'll work with girls?

5. ALAS POOR CALICO I BARELY KNEW YE

And then it was over. My little west end adventure that is.

When I left fair Port Láirge to go to drama school in the England nearly 5 years ago, I went with the sole purpose of doing a show in the West End. That was my dream, that was what I saw as the pinnacle of what I could achieve and I would never know if I could achieve it if I didn't try. And try I did. Three and a half years of trying. And when I got that phone call on that icy December morning in Birmingham, the phone call saying they'd offered me a part in a brand new West End play called Calico......well there it was. The thing I'd left home for sitting there ready to begin on the 20th of February. My West End debut. Deadly boy. At the time i thought - here we go now, nice little contract for a three month run in the West End. Three months? Yeah right! This script is a sure fire hit! We'll be extending before you know it and then maybe we'll transfer to Ireland..yes the Gate maybe and after that who knows? How Bad!

How wrong.

Six weeks all told. Two weeks previews and 4 weeks playing and we were brown bread. Gone the way of all flesh. Closed. The signs were up on the Marquee outside the theatre and the two week notice had hit the noticeboard. A gentle quiet had descended on the dressing rooms in the Duke of Yorks theatre as certain unemployment loomed for some (well for me at least) and that was it. My first west end show....my first west end flop. Well its good for a few stories isn't it? And so I would like to report that the good ship Calico quietly sailed into the sunset on Saturday the 3rd of April 2004......well I would like to........but that, of course would be way too normal and, as seems to be the way, normality is not a familiar bedfellow of mine at the moment.

It was my great honour that weekend, to play host to two very fine gentlemen from the land of the Déise; the funky fish himself Mr. Fintan Kavanagh (now known as "Sir" when he's at work) and the curliest man in Ireland, Mr. Rob O'Connor. They were over for a weekend of craic, booze and messing and somewhere in between all that they were coming to see the final performance of Calico. Final shows are weird. Its always a mix of emotions and its especially weird when the show is closing early. I spent 8 months doing Pirates of Penzance a couple of years ago and let me tell you by the end I was extremely ready to stop. The term 'AHHRR' had nearly entered my normal vocabulary. Not so with Calico though. There was still a lot more to go with that show, a lot more to be discovered and so there was a bit of a cloud hanging over the last day. Made worse of course by seeing two huge removal lorries parked outside the theatre when I turned up to do the matinee. Poised like fecking vultures they were the last nail in the coffin. Jesus. Fintan and Rob had gone to see the matinee of 'Stones in his Pockets' (great show, which itself is closing in about 3 weeks...but its been running 4 years so they can hardly complain now can they) so they were having a fine time. But the matinee went well, a nice crowd.It is tradition on the last Saturday matinee of a show to play some kind of practical joke onstage, and I'm a demon for them (on the last matinee of Midsummer Night's dream I wore a different dress for the end.........urm...well that's a tale for another day) but I just couldn't bring myself to do anything on Calico. Dunno why. Just didn't seem right. We ran a sweepstakes on the Grand National so that was a bit of craic trying to time the show so that the interval happened at the right moment so we could watch it. Didn't work though. Ha. I didn't win either. the five horses I drew were so shite they were probably on their way to the glue factory before the race started. A little hitch towards the end of the show where one of the moving platforms on the show had broken down. No big deal that'd happened a few times during the past few weeks. It'll be grand by the evening show. And all the way through the show I was thinking; God just one more time to do this and that's it. One last fling.

Nope.

I arrived back from my break between shows to find one of the cast at the stage door on the phone. He looks at me with a hang dog expression and shakes his head. Poor guy. Sad that its the last show. I know how ya feel buddy. I go into the theatre to find lots of people on their phones with hang dog expressions and shaking their heads. Ok. This seems to be the a serious outpouring of grief. And then the company manager comes over to me and tells me the show is cancelled.

Yeah right Babe, the time for practical jokes was the matinee.

'I'm serious Jamie'

'Are you serious?!!??!'

Is there an echo?

No, just the sound of sheer and utter disbelief. Aw crap. After all that, all the bad luck the show had this final twist of fate was surely the cruelest. The moving platform couldn't be fixed and it was deemed a safety risk to go on without it working. Nuts. Normally I'd be delighted with a night off but not tonight. not the last night. Jesus. But hey. What can you do? 10 bottles of champagne were brought forth from the fridge to ease the blow. Grand. I'll be in the pub a bit earlier too. How bad. And we're off to a big party at Keith Dunphy's gaff later on............Hang on..........'We'?

AW FUCK! ROB AND FINTAN!

Crap! they had come all the way over from Ireland to see the show and now it's not happening. aaaaaaaaagh. Typical bloody luck. I phoned them with the bad news. They were having a nice Thai meal but it was my duty to ruin it on them. They were surprisingly calm, I on the other hand wasn't. But all was not lost, the next theatre up the road was showing the Samuel Beckett laugh fest Engame starring Lee Evans and my old buddy (yeah right) Sir Michael Gambon and they had the same producer as us. Grand, free tickets so. I sorted out the boys so that was fine, now their was some serious sorrows to be drowned. In the dressing rooms the mood had turned slightly surreal, everyone still slightly in shock. I went into one of the bigger rooms to find none other than Matthew Kelly sitting there.

Tonight Matthew I am NOT going to be Giorgio Joyce.

Of course I didn't say that. I've more sense than to spout a catchphrase at a guy who's probably had it said to him every day of his life. A nice guy though. He and his friend were both to see the show that night but now were at a loss. I told them the heart wrenching tale of my two countrymen and so they too got free tickets to Endgame. This led to a titanic meeting. Rob and Fintan had taken their seats when lo and behold doesn't Matthew Kelly sit beside them. They were obviously excited. And then he turns to them and comments that they must be the two lads from Ireland. Obviously beside himself with delight that his reputation had preceded him, Fintan decided to utter the immortal line;

'Tonight Matthew I'm going to be Fintan'

Cue forced smile from the entertainment giant.

'Well I've never heard that before'

Rob, thankfully had far more cop, but it was too late. Gone was Fintan's hope of appearing on Stars in Their Eyes as Richie Kavanagh. Níl áon focal eile! He'll get over it though. Eventually.

And so as the boys were sitting their being baffled by Beckett I was drinking goodbye to Calico. What a way to finish. No last great hurrah. No blinding last show where people would say; why the hell is it closing? Get them a new theatre for god's sake! Nope. But all was not lost, for as one by one the members of the Calico company broke away and said their goodbyes what kept me going was that the Dunph was having a huge bash in North of the London. Now thats where you forget your troubles. And we certainly did. A bottle of Vodka, loads of cans, some whiskey and a live jazz band in a bedroom later.... everything was ok. Until 7.30 that morning. Me and the two boys had gotten on the tube to go home and had fallen asleep. I woke up with a start at euston station and as a reflex action just jumped off the train. The doors shut behind me and I came to my senses just in time to see the train head off into the tunnel with the two boys still fast asleep. Oh shit. I did the only thing i could do. I went home. There was no way to reach them as mobiles don't work on the tube and there was no point in trying to find them in the vast maze that is the london underground. They found their way back tho many adventures had taken place seemingly. I did not ask what. The following day was a quiet one of recovery and curry (Fintan we now realise is more of a balti man than a korma or tikka man).

And it hit me. I'm out of work. For the first time in the best part of a year and a half. Nuts.

But then I remembered........ I'm going back to the land of the Déise on that Thursday.

Sure every cloud has a silver lining.