I loves working at the Open Air Theatre in Regent’s Park, don’t you?
Its a nearly 2000 seat amphitheatre right in the middle of Regent’s Park in the Centre of the London and listen lads there’s no roof on this baby. When they say Open Air they really mean it. Sure the back wall of the stage is just a load of trees. What a place though. Easily the most welcoming theatre in London and a great place to see a show whether it be a Shakespeare or a Musical or (as was my case again this year) a kids show. It was the place where I first appeared professionally onstage and I’ll never forget the shock I got as I ran out onto that stage with the rest of the Pirates of Penzance only to be looking straight at a full house and because it wasn’t dark yet you could see every single one of the audience. I nearly messed meself. And the minute we arrived on the stage the audience burst into spontaneous applause ... and we hadn’t done anything yet. They just knew they were in for a good night. This was what it was all about I thought to meself. I don’t know if its ever gotten better than that particular moment. Since then I’ve been back to the Park every year. The following year we went back for a night to do some bits from Pirates for the 70th anniversary concert. The year after (2003) I did the full season there, two Shakespeares and a musical and its that season that I really think turned me career around. It got me the Lion in the Wizard of Oz, it led me to work with Ed Hall in the West End and it got me an Ian Charleson Award nomination. How bad. Last year I cagily came back to play Toad in Wind in the Willows only to find that it was one of the best things I ever did and so I was back again this year reprising the role. All this from the artistic director, Mr. Ian Talbot, seeing me in a tiny little thing in Greenwich and having a chat with me in the bar after. Its been VERY good to me in other words.
‘That’s all deadly’ I hear you shut me up, ‘But there’s no feckin roof man, what if it rains?’
Ah yes. The rain. Well the deal with that is they have a hotline direct to the UK Met Office, no seriously they do, and if it rains, whether before or during the show, they find out if its down for the night or if its just a shower. If its raining before the show they’ll hold the curtain (what curtain????) for about 20 minutes after which they’ll cancel the show and the audience (that have turned up) get a voucher to see any show that season or for the next 10 years (that’s for real as they did have an Australian couple come back 8 years after the show they went to see got cancelled and they got their replacement ticket!). It’s trickier once the show has started though and they will try and keep it going for as long as possible. There was a company manager there once and the way he used to gauge whether to stop a show or not was to stand on the picnic lawn front of house and if the rain was so bad it was dripping off his nose well then he would make the call to stop it. But only then. If the show is stopped during a performance the Deputy Stage Manager announces over the ‘God’ mic; ‘Can the actors please leave the stage.’ Then the audience are asked to move to the cover of the bar area and they wait 20 minutes to see if the show is cancelled or if they can continue.
So you are completely at the mercy of the elements.
How bad you might think, sure that would have to mean a few nights off what with the infamous English summer. Ah yeah but the thing is you still have to turn up at the theatre, do your warm up, get into costume and be absolutely ready to do the show. So its fairly disappointing to be told the show is off when you’re all geared up to do it and if you’re in the middle of a show its worse, its a real anti-climax. And while you might get to the bar earlier and we always joke about wishing we had a show off, we never really mean it. And you’d be surprised how the weather will change in a second. One night of Midsummernight’s Dream (after the best summer since the 70’s so we hadn’t lost a show) It started pelting it down with rain at 7pm and didn’t let up. That was it we thought, no show!! We were so excited as we were all knackered after a gruelling season and two of the lads ran out backstage in their underwear and did a rain dance. The rain promptly stopped at 7.55. They must have done the wrong feckin dance! And sure enough the show went on at 8.15 and we got all the way through it. I mean there was kids sitting on the grass banks in black sacks it was so damp. The audience loved it. Lunatics!!!
Fasting forward to this summer and sure I had just finished the mental month of travelling and I have to say, while just doing one show for two weeks seemed like a holiday, I wouldn’t have said no to a bit of rain and a couple of shows off before I started doubling up again. Famous last words boy. But more on that later. The show had opened well and the start of the second week the reviews had started to come in, and they were mostly good. All good for me thank god but the Independent was particularly good and especially for the director which I was delighted with. She had really endeavoured to move it on from last year rather than just trying to recreate it so she deserved the nice notice. Nice one. That said our cursing badger did not go unnoticed, quoth Charles Spencer;
(Badger) “also inadvertently provided the biggest laugh of the performance when a technical mishap brought forth a very audible cry of "Oh, shit!“ One shudders to imagine what Kenneth Grahame would have made of that, but I .. report that it was undoubtedly the highlight of the show as far as my subversive son was concerned.”
He took it in good humour then, as did everyone else really as there was no complaints this year (unlike last year with the rude suggestion on the toast and the page 3 picnic basket incident. But I’ve promised not to go into that. We Willows people have a well bad reputation!). Not sure about the biggest laugh of the afternoon part, what am I busting me green arse doing so? Ah well, but thankfully the weather was with us and stayed pretty good. For the next week and a half we certainly got through every show and the most we had were a few drizzles, nothing major. Good stuff. And it was going well, the kids were loving it. Although houses were down a bit from last year but I have to say that had a fair bit to do with the terrorist attacks. People were afraid to come into London. Big time. I was sitting in the office at the park one day when a teacher called to try and cancel a block booking of kids. Her reason? She didn’t feel safe bringing the kids into the centre of London at the moment. OK its a justified fear I suppose but a bullshit attitude. If you let this stop you getting on with life then they’ve really won haven’t they? I don’t know, its a no win situation. Shit! Anyway we were getting good coverage in the press, actually we were getting more coverage than we expected. At the end of the second week I saw the funniest thing ever. The chief weasel himself had been out on the gay, as was his wont to do, and he happens upon a free gay listings magazine called QX. Having a look in the back he espies a listing for Wind in the Willows, surely it can’t be our show? It certainly fuckin is;
COMEDY
THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS
The Open Air Theatre
Regent’s Park, NW1
To 27th August
Tel: 0870 060 1811
FABULOUS, irreverent take on the ever-
green, pastoral kiddies’ classic, set in the
open air with vile, lime-green Toad costumes
and a radiant Julian Clary.
Ahhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha!! I was GONE! We were all gone. There’s a million things wrong with that listing and they’re all funny. I mean we were a kids show in a gay magazine!! ‘Irreverent take’? One of the criticisms of the show was that it was too traditional. ‘Vile, lime green Toad costumes’? Alright, the lime green was spot on, but vile? I thought I looked rather fetching! But the best ever was the ‘Radiant Julian Clary’? What the fuck?? I mean, I’m sure I’d know if that fella was in the show for Christ’s sake. The name of the Actor playing Badger was a well known older Shakespearean actor by the name of Julian CURRY! Ahhhhh hahahahaha! Some jeer. That poor fecker was already after swearing in a kids play in front of the national press and now he was being mistaken for the biggest queen in showbiz!!! His wife would not be happy. But sure we kept it as our own little secret, no point in upsetting the poor man. That said it was the source of a fair bit of craic and often was the time when Badger was having a speech and I would lean over to Ratty or Moley and whisper in their ear;
‘Ooooh Mrs. Clary’s minty dear.’
Top notch jeering material! And he hadn’t a clue. Although he does now if he reads this. It kept us going anyway! The only thing that worried me is if we got a load of only gays in the village coming to see the show expecting to see me in green leather. Nope, never gonna happen.
Another good thing about doing the show again this year was that people who didn’t get a chance to see it last year now had no excuse! So some of the lads came, which was cool and even cooler me Mammy and Nanny were coming over to see it. Now its always great to see them, but its also well stressful because I feel responsible for them while they’re staying with me. They came over (with me godson Paul) the 3rd weekend of the show. They were arriving on the Thursday, seeing the show on the Friday and flying back the Saturday evening. That itinerary was carefully worked out by me so there was two chances to see the show, if anything happened on the Friday they still had the possibility of the Saturday morning show. But sure the week had gone without any real weather problems and they arrived on the Thursday to a gorgeous summer’s evening. I brought them on a little sight seeing trip around the London, all the old favourites; Big Ben, the London Eye, Piccadilly Circus, Waterloo Bridge, The Royal national Theatre (they didn’t give a shit about that one) and the balmy evening ended up with meself and Gary and me mother on a session ending with drinking out the back garden till 3 in the morning. Now it was so warm we didn’t even have coats on us out there and I went to bed (or couch at least) safe in the knowledge that we’d definitely have a show the next day.
How wrong can you be.
I woke up to the sound of tap dancing. Aw Jesus that’s not a time step its fucking rain!!! I couldn’t believe it, it was lovely last night, now it was lashing! Ah Christ! This is well cat, but you never know though, like I said the weather can change in a second. 3 hours later I was sitting in me dressing room and it hadn’t changed. Still pissing it down. I was running around the theatre getting the vibe as to whether we were going on or not and the signs were not good. I let the management know that I had family over from Ireland, not that that was going to make a blind bit of difference, and I had a bit of a pray. That didn’t work either. I was sitting half dressed backstage without me face on waiting to hear whether they were going to see it or not, when the company manager came in with more bad news. There was kids in who had won a competition to see the show and get their photos taken with Toad, Ratty and Mole. I was in foul enough humour as it was and in zero mood to have to slap on the green and be nice to kids. I asked her was it ok if I left the make up off and just wore the suit? She was cool under the circumstances. In fairness they waited a full half hour before they finally called off the show. Shit on it anyway. All the boys were well cool saying even though they wanted the show off they really wanted it to happen as I had family in. It was nice of them to lie. So I had to get on the rest of the costume, throw on a smile and head out to these kiddywinks. Actually I put on more than a smile, I ended up putting on the complete face. Sure it wasn’t these kids fault that it was raining and there was no point in me going out there like the grinch and ruining their day even more. Well me Mammy and Nanny and Paul got to see me in full costume at least, so that was something if the show didn’t happen the next day. That was the final hope of course, the next morning. Its always a risk when they come to the Park that the weather would be against them, but this was their third time coming over and it was the first time this happened and sure I’d be devastated if they travelled all the way over and didn’t even get to see the show (thank Christ I’m not from Australia). But that was in the hands of God, so I had a quiet night that night so as not to piss him off and woke up the next day to see a half cloudy sky. Half cloudy!! That’s good enough for me sure. By the time I got to the theatre and was doing the warm up the sun was even trying to peek through. Nice one. The show was sold out that day but I had sorted out getting them onto the directors bench (in fairness if they hadn’t let them in Andy would’ve had another show on as Toad!) and we were on!! Not a sign of a bit of rain. Not the sunniest day but I didn’t care. Also I was shitting meself as I always am when the family are in, but it wasn’t a bad show so how bad. Afterwards I brought them around town for a bit of a shop and then out to the airport with them and the stress was over. It all worked out well in the end thank god. No seriously, thank God. Then I went out and got smashed with the cast and crew in Adam Street so I’m sure God is out with me again.
But now the two weeks grace was over and I was back to doubling up. That Monday was the first day of rehearsals for The Winter’s Tale, the doozy of a job. The big problem was that there was only two weeks rehearsals for the four new boys to go into it. Well two weeks for everyone else but I was still doing Willows so I was only available in the mornings. This was not good. Add to this the fact that like always I had barely looked at the script and had a passing glance at the DVD of the show they sent me and there was a serious disaster possible to happen. I may not make it to Swindon much less Dublin or New York! And how did that first week go? Not too well boy. The first day was grand cos all we did was music in the morning and sure if there’s one thing I’m comfortable with its that. Also I was in good voice from doing Willows so I seemed to make a good impression which is always important on the first day. They all seemed like a great bunch of guys and a few of them had seen Calico and one of them had brought his kids to see Willows the previous year and was well excited when he realised I was Toad (I was later to find out that this was actually the nicest man on the planet, Bob Barrett). All good but the fecking lines were NOT going in. I was still big time in Toad mode. Ed hall wasn’t there himself that week thank god, his assistant Heather was but I know her from Calico and she’s no pushover, and all I could think was that I was making a real fool of meself in front of these guys, I was so under prepared, and I was the new guy with the least to learn. Jesus! On the Thursday I had a day off from Willows so I was looking forward to having a full day doing Winter’s Tale, get me really into the swing of it. They had also sorted out that our interviews at the American embassy to get our work visas was going to happen that morning too and the plan was to go there at 7am to be able to get to rehearsals for 10. Now on the Wednesday we had planned a company curry for Willows but that was ok, I wasn’t going to go mad because of everything I had to do the next day. Then after the show on Wednesday I had to head back down to Winter’s Tale rehearsals to get all my forms for the interview the next day. One of the sheets they gave me was a revised tour schedule. And there was something strange at the end after the final dates in Aberystwyth: Dec. 7th - 12th Guangzhou, China.
So sorry what now?
I asked the company manager Anthony what the craic was and he said;
‘Oh I’m sorry you mustn’t have been here when we confirmed it. We’re going to China.’
NO WAY!! As far as I was concerned the tour finished on the 3rd of December in Aberystwyth, now I find out that its been extended and not to any auld venue .... fuckin CHINA!! Ah sure I had to celebrate then for feck sake. I sped back up to the park and lashed into the whiskey and then lashed into the curry and then lashed into the cheap wine at the theatre bar and finally lashed into more whiskey till all hours in good auld Shutts. I rolled into bed at 4am twisted, knowing I had an interview or something to go to, and rolled out of bed at 9.15am. When I got hold of me watch I didn’t realise I was holding it upside down and was wondering how it was that I’d woken up an hour before I went to bed. Then I saw the clock on me laptop and I went white.
I’d missed me fuckin interview at the embassy.
Aw Jesus!!!!!! The phone rang. Of course it wasn’t the agent;
‘Jamie its Matt Flynn. Where the hell are you? We’ve been and finished and all. What’s up?’
‘Aw Jesus Matt I’ve just woken up! Me alarm never went off.’ ..... (I’d been too drunk to set the bastard!)
‘You stupid dickhead, get over there quick. We’ll let them know at rehearsals.’
Now I felt really stupid and what an impression I was making in this company. I hopped on the tube and rang the company manager who was well cool thank god. I got to the American Embassy after 10 to see the place chocablock with people. There was no hassle with me going in but I’d now have to wait me turn. And wait I did. 4 feckin hours! Not only that but 4 feckin hours with a bitch of a hangover!! Aw man it was a personal hell that I deserved every minute of and I was just praying to god (him again) that everything would be ok with me application and they wouldn’t cop that I was severely shook and not let me into their country. Finally me name was called out and I went to meet this lady who was incased in a booth behind bulletproof glass. That’s good she wont smell the booze and curry so. And she went on to ask me a load of stupid questions which I only made worse when she asked me what I was playing and I told her one of my parts was a woman. I thought I was making a little joke of the fact that I was in an all male production but she looked at me well weird and had to have a chat with her colleague. Finally she came back and said she hoped I would have a nice time in her country.
Sweet.
Jesus I got through it. What was worse than all that of course was having to head to rehearsals then and put up with some serious jeering off the lads. The King of Sicilia proclaimed;
‘I can see your going to be trouble Beamish.’
Vinny knew me well it seems. And that was the end of the first week. Heather had wanted to rehearse that Saturday but thankfully it was called off cos, I mean, I had to party for the end of Willows boy!! And twas a great final show, we were all buzzing, it had been a great run all told. Of course me old enemy the rain reared its wet head about 15 minutes off the end. I was offstage and had a look over to the stage manager and the look on his face said there’s no way we’re stopping the last show for a little drizzle like this. Good man, we wouldn’t have let him stop it anyway. Not a sign. This was the last hurrah. The show wasn’t coming back next year and this could be me last time ever playing Toad. I hope not though. And at the very end was the crowning moment. Just before the last song I had to jump up on a table to begin it. Seeing as it had been raining it was slippy and sure enough I hopped up, slipped and fell on me arse. The green face went red, but the ad libs kicked in;
‘Well it was bound to happen at some stage, I am a slimy toad after all. And now I don’t know what the hell is next.’
Not exactly Monty Python but it lightened the crowd and pulled me out of the pits of embarrassment. And that as they say was that. We said goodbye with shots and more shots in the Volunteer, then a barbecue down in the costume mistresses house (who’s flatmate has a life size Dalek in the living room), then into the West End for a bit of Teatros and back to mine to drink spirits out me back garden. The night ended as the sun came up and me and Moley were throwing stones at empty liquor bottles to try and smash them and Ratty was off his chump weeding the garden. I went to bed then and got two hours sleep, got up, went for a jog, practised cartwheels in the park, went over to the Notting Hill carnival, sobered up at 6pm and went home. NOW the show was over. We had waked it very well. But sure I had no feckin time to mourn it.
I had a show to learn in a week and a world tour to embark on.
And I had no digs sorted whatsoever.
Aw lovely.
Friday, January 27, 2006
33. TO OPEN AND CLOSE A SHOW IN THE SAME WEEK
or...........
33. PLANES, TRAINS AND AUTOMOBILES
(Well trains and automobiles at least.)
You know I had so many people tell me I was crazy when I was thinking I could probably do Much Ado and Wind in the Willows together. They breathed a sigh of relief when it looked like it wasn’t possible and jumped back on the calling me crazy bandwagon when it was actually going to happen. Turns out they were dead right. I was feckin crazy. But I didn’t care. I could do it. Even if it killed me.
I was REALLY looking forward to starting Willows. I loved doing the show last year (knackering and all as it was) and seeing as all but one of the cast were coming back to do it , well it was like a school reunion. And its a mega part. I’ve heard it referred to as the King Lear of role’s in children’s shows. Now I don’t know if I’d go that far but it wouldn’t be far off. Also because I wasn’t playing anything substantial in Much Ado (now I’m just stating fact there and not complaining.) it was nice to be able to crack into something really really meaty. So I couldn’t wait. Well actually I didn’t have to wait, the rehearsals started the Monday after the Wednesday that Much Ado opened, and it was straight back into all guns blazing. I had come back into the London on the Saturday night after doing a matinee of Much Ado and went down to the National to have a drink with Dots and his lovely wife Natalie, and sitting on the tube for the first time since the bombings was a weird experience. The way people were suddenly looking at each other. I didn’t want to even think about it to be honest. Twas good to see the man who killed Glenroe and of course I was able to boast about me swanky new job that I’d just gotten:
‘The National Dots? I’m off to New York, love.’
‘Go way boy, sure I’ve played there meself.’
Of course he had. After leaving him I went looking for me flatmate of the O’ Sullivan clan. Gary turned out to be in an all-night night-club called ‘The End’. Well sure I’ll head in for the one before I go home. The ‘one’ lasted until I was standing on Oxford Street at 6 in the morning waiting for a bus and watching the sun come up. Oh my god! And I suddenly got very worried. I mean the last time I did Willows I was losing me voice all over the shop, this time I had the added strain of doing another show at the same time and what do I do the day before I start rehearsing, go on an all night bender!!!! I really thought I was going to be fucked on the Monday.
I thought wrong thank Jesus.
Monday morning I decide to walk to rehearsals, now this had nothing to do with me being cagey about the tubes, I just thought it would be good exercise for me. Honestly. It takes about 50 minutes and its a grand stroll which takes you past Abbey Road and the famous zebra (or Beatle) crossing. I get there and meet all the old familiars and our new Badger and we craic into the read through. And all is well. AHA!! He’s back and he’s green. Then I have a sing through all me stuff with the MD and the pipes are in pretty good form let me tell ya. And the gas thing is they stay that way for the rest of rehearsals. I’m not sure what it was but I had a load more stamina than last year and the only thing I can attribute it too was the fact that I hadn’t come to it cold but was rehearsing and performing right up to and during rehearsals. Good first day to start with and then a lethal session afterwards wherein we start in the Volunteer pub (source of my poverty last year) and end up shitfaced at the bar at the Open Air Theatre drinking staff-discounted wine and free burgers!! We were back in a big way. The next day the travelling started. Now here was the thing. Could I do Willows? Of course I could, sure I had the reviews from last year still in me wardrobe. Could I do Much ado? In me sleep boy. No seriously I could do it in me sleep. Could I do them both at the same time? Feck it sure we’ll soon see. My daily schedule looked a bit like this;
8am: Wake up. Shower, shave and a slice of toast.
9am: Hit the road to Regent’s Park, and I literally mean hit the road as I was still walking to work each morning.
10am: Arrive at the Park for rehearsals and lash into a bit of mad toading.
3.30pm: Knackered after most of a day of mad toading I leave rehearsals to catch the 4pm train to Bath. On which I have a quick sandwich. Hopefully sleep, probably not. And if I do its the kind of sleep that you wake up from with dribble down your face.
5pm: Arrive in Bath. Hopefully sleep, probably not.
6.45pm: Dance warmup (I was still the all singing all dancing dance captain remember).
7.30pm: Hit the boards for a bit of the bard.
10.25pm: Curtain Call and peg it over to the pub for a quick pint.
10.47pm: The last train to London. Hopefully sleep, probably not.
12.45am: Arrive back in the London, at which time the tubes have stopped so I have to get two buses home which inevitably means me standing out in the cold on the Edgware Road and of course the battery in my iPod has decided to be dead as a dodo.
1.30am: Arrive home with a chip in pitta in hand.
2am: Hopefully sleep, probably not.
8am: Wake up. Shower, shave and a slice of toast............... and the rest you know.
Unreal. Now this was the schedule for the travelling days which I have to say wasn’t every day but was at least 4 days in the week, this was because there was only 4 shows of much ado a week. Of course when I had a night off from the play in Bath I would be rehearsing in Regent’s Park until at least 7pm if not 8.30. No rest for the wicked? I must have done some really bad shit then. The weekends became time to sleep rather than drink so the auld social life took a bit of a knock, but I did slip in some quality session time here and there. Sure you’d have to wouldn't you. Another worry at the back of me head was: what if there was a problem with the train one day. That’s the thing about trains in England, unbelievably expensive (it cost over 600 sterling for a travelcard from the London to Bath for the month) and unbelievably unreliable. Anything could happen, delays, cancellations, trains breaking down en route. I was taking a bit of a risk, and I would have been in awful trouble if I missed a show in Bath. Thankfully the first week went fine and everything was looking good for the second week.
Until the Thursday that is.
We had broken for lunch during rehearsals and I was heading over to the canteen for a bit of food and I tried to give the agent a ring. It wouldn’t connect . It said the network was busy . I tried another couple of numbers and they all said the same thing. Network busy. Now why the hell was the network overloaded? The last time that happened was the day of the tube bombs. I started to get a bit worried. I got to the canteen to see the two Andys that were in the show walking out of there ashen faced.
‘Well boys what’s the craic where are ye off to?’
‘There’s been another terrorist attack on the tubes. A friend of mine just called me. Seemingly they used nail bombs and one of them was at Warren Street.’
I went white.
And then show must go on mode kicked in. If this had happened then they would have shut down the tube network straight away. Warren street isn’t far from Regent’s Park so who knows what roads they would close off as well. If it got worse then they’d stop all transport in and out of central London. This was worst case scenario stuff i know , but I had a show in Bath that night and there was no way I was going to let the terrorists win and stop me singing Hey Nonny feckin Nonny. I legged it over to the rehearsal rooms and told the director I had to get to Paddington as soon as possible just in case there was any problem getting out of London. As always she was great and understood completely so I pegged it west on the half hour walk to Paddington. It was mad because along the way you could see people coming out of office buildings in the fear of being stuck in London with no way home, or else they just wanted to get out of this suddenly dangerous place. There was a bit of that in my head as well. The only thing being that I had to return that night. I got to Paddington and it was absolutely mobbed, everyone had the same thought as me then, get the fuck out of London before the whole system shuts down. The packed train pulled out of Paddington and you could see the relief on people’s faces as they got outside the M25. Now I’m not a pessimist by nature but I really thought there was some bad shit going down here, the reports were of a new and even more vicious attack.
Sure don’t believe everything you hear.
It turned out to be a botched attempt by fools, cowards and bastards. I was angry alright. But mostly angry because it made me feel the way I did and that I had to run. Not cool. Very not cool. Thank God the show went well that night. No, thank God no one got hurt.
The rest of the running up and down wasn’t nearly as eventful and everything seemed to be going swimmingly altough really tiring. When I wasn’t able to do the rehearsals Andy Hutch (who was understudying me) was able to lash into getting a decent go at it, more than an understudy would normally get at the park. I was glad because its always worrying when you have to hand a part over to someone for a few shows. You want it to go really well in your absence sure. I knew it was in good hands though. The mad part (part one) came when we got to the tech rehearsals for willows. Of course I could only be there for some of them so I ended up only having half a tech with Andy doing the other. Meaning there was bits I hadn’t rehearsed at all with the new props and new bits of set and the new car and the new pain in me head and so on and so forth. Ah sure that’ll be no bother it’ll sort itself out.
Or will it?
The mad part (part two) was when we got to the first week of Willows. Or do I mean the last week of Much Ado?
Of course I mean both. It was the same feckin week sure.
Now I was feeling that all the people who were calling me crazy were bang on. I just wish they didn’t look so feckin smug. Normally the phrase ‘to open and close a show in the same week’ is not a good one. It should mean that a show has opened and closes days later because it is so bad. Of course that wasn’t my case. I was living that phrase in a far more literal fashion. This is where it could all go so very very wrong. Here’s how the week went;
Monday: Ok not too bad. In early in the morning to continue the tech for willows and there’s a lot of good work done, But of course the time comes and Cinderella has to get the train to Bath. I do the show in Bath although me head is full of lines from the other show. The cast of Much Ado are laughing at me at this stage at the thought that I’m opening a show in the London the next day. I’m laughing at meself at this stage.
Tuesday: 1st preview! In early again, this time to do a dress rehearsal which doesn’t go at all well for me. Sure I never got to finish the feckin tech the day before!!! Jesus! So I was on a real wing and a prayer for the actual show. But it went fine! Thank godddd!!!! That’s the thing when you have an audience in front of you, whether its sheer determination or just pure fear I don’t know but you always seem to get through it and its never as bad a you thought it was going to be. Famous last words I know. But get through it I did and the old buzz was back. AHA!! Now that was why I enjoyed doing the show so much last year. Its just a big load of craic from start to finish. Seeing as I didn’t have a show that night in Bath and I wasn’t doing Willows the next day I got in the horrors as only I can to celebrate the sleep in. I have zero recollection of getting home. Fuck all new there so.
Wednesday: Roll out of bed in an awful state and thank me lucky stars I don’t have a show at 2.30. And while I don’t, me poor understudy does. I had heard him practising the songs after the show the day before and he was in top voice. Big time. We were all standing on the picnic lawn at the theatre having some champagne when he was giving it sox and I turned to me fellow actors with a wry smile;
‘Enjoy that while it lasts lads, because you’ll never hear those notes out of me!’ quoth the bass upon hearing the tenor sing his role correctly.
I knew it was in good hands so and on me way to the train station I dropped into the theatre to leave him a bottle of wine and a copy of the book to wish him luck. But as I walked out of there it was the strangest feeling. Not doing the show .... yes the show was going on, but without me. I felt strangely uneasy and probably a bit jealous. Ah cop on Jamie for feck sake it happens all the time. So I head to Bath and check into the very swish B&B I had treated meself to for the night. Ah sure tis a hectic week I deserve a bit of comfort. We do the show and of course there’s a nice bit of a session afterwards, which turns into a serious bit of a session and before long and ends up being a back to the digs session. 5 of us end up back in the digs of one of the girls as her landlord and landlady were away for the week and we lash into a fair bit of their booze. How bad. The craic was good an the clock ticked on and I ended up falling up the hill to my B&B at 6 in the morning which would make it;
Thursday: I got to bed at 6.30 and breakfast there finished at 8.30!! AH shit, well that was a waste of a B&B but there was no way I was gonna miss the breakfast, I paid enough for it for feck sake. That day was spent sorting out me hangover and sleeping in the theatre to be able to do the show that night. The buzz was now going around that Sir Peter wanted to meet us after the last show on Saturday and the rumour was a West End transfer. Which of course would be lovely but meant feck all for me as I was booked up till December now with Winter’s Tale (Jammy!). Show went grand and I sat on the midnight train to the London with the press show of Willows looming over me cause that was happening -
Friday:
Now I was properly shitting meself.
Why? I hear you ask? Well this was the day of reckoning sure, wasn’t it? Now I know I’d done the show before and there wasn’t that much changed but the pressure was really on me this time. I mean they really pulled out all the stops so I was able to do the show again this year and that meant I had to produce the goods. The only thing now was I had to produce said goods after having two days off from the show and the rest of the cast were just getting used to a new Toad! Jesus this could all go horribly wrong!
It didn’t.
Well from my point of view anyway. I lashed into it like there was no show tomorrow (which for me there wasn’t, I was heading back to finish Much Ado). It turned out to be a lovely sunny day which always helps the crowd at the Open Air Theatre. Obviously. The big boys were in as well; The Independent, Time Out, The Evening Standard and The Financial Times (don’t know how many kids read that to be honest), but I didn’t let the pressure get to me and I poop pooped and AHA’d me way through the 1st act no hassle. Which was a surprise seeing as last year I barely got to the end of the 1st act without an asthma attack, the auld stamina was better this year alright. Then came the 2nd act and all went well until the scene in the secret tunnel. After a bit of banter with the audience about whether to send me home or not Badger would normally grab me and throw me back into line. This time he grabbed me and a bit of my costume came off in his hand and he uttered the immortal words;
‘Oh Shit!’
Oh shit indeed Badger because you said it while your feckin mic was on, so the whole audience heard it.
‘Oooooooooooohhhhhhhh’ went the audience.
‘Ahhhhhhh ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha’ Went Toad, Ratty and Moley as we went into the convulsions.
This was funny but not necessarily good, because he did it in front of about 600 kids and representatives of the national media. I may not have a show to come back to on Monday!! After a bit of messing we got back to doing the show and the animals still beat the Wild Wooders in the end so all was well with the Willows. I was pleased with it and hopefully the reviews would be good but I felt relieved that that day had gone well. The celebrations started. Straight off to the volunteer for flatliners and then on to the Duke of Sussex for Karaoke fun as Hardwick was back doing Saturday nights which all ended up with me falling asleep at the baby grand in the corner only to be dragged home by the buachaill in question. The Willows gang had headed off early as they had an 11 o’clock show the next morning. I didn’t thank Jesus but I did have a 2.30 show in Bath. Bollocks.
Saturday: Woke up with a bastard behind the eyes to have to head up to Bath with Hardwick (who was coming to see the show). It went grand as last shows do although it was weird because it ended on a matinee. We were all on best behaviour as well as Sir Peter Hall was in the building and he had a chat with us all afterwards. It wasn’t going to the West End but it was going to be revived in September 2006 at his new theatre, The Rose in Kingston, and he hoped we’d all be available. Hmmmm .... we’ll see. And that was the end of that, we went to the pub for a swift pint and a lovely pie and the cast swiftly went their separate ways. Hardwick then said to me he was going back to Bedford rather than London so do I mind being dropped off somewhere near the M25 and sure I said not to worry that I still had the travelcard to London so I’d get the train back as it’d be quicker. He dropped me off at the station and I thought that would be the last I’d see of him till the following week. I reckoned without British Rail. I walked onto the platform only to be informed that all trains to London were cancelled due to a fire on the line and that they would be laying on a bus to Paddington. Fuuuck that. I’m bolloxed after the maddest week of me life and now I have to sit on a bus for four hours. I think not good sir!!! It was typical that after a month of problem free travelling there’s a problem on the last day. So I was straight on the phone to the Hardwick to see if his offer of a lift to the M25 was still good. Twas. Happy days. I headed down through the foyer to wait for him outside and on me way I bumped into someone I really didn’t expect to see again. My next phone conversation with Dickie will tell all;
‘Well boy listen we have a passenger coming with us if that’s ok, and you might want to clean up the car.’ quoth I.
‘Why? Who’s coming back with us?’ quoth the driver.
‘Sir Peter Hall.’
‘Fuck off you’re full of shit.’
‘No seriously Dickie, he’s stuck here too and I’ve said he can get a lift with us.’
‘Look, stop taking the piss or else I’m leaving you here. I’ll be there in a second.’
You could hear his eyebrows hit the roof of the car when I walked out of the station followed by one of the most famous directors in the world. NOW he was sorry he didn’t clean the car. It turned out Peter had planned to head back on the same train as I did, so found himself stranded. I literally just bumped into him at the ticket office;
‘It looks like we’re stuck here Jamie.’ quoth the maestro.
‘Well actually Peter I have a mate coming back to pick me up and drop me close to London, would you like a lift?’ meekly quoth I.
‘If that would be ok?’
And there transpired the most surreal car journey I’ve ever experienced. I did not know how this was going to go. 3 hours in a car with Richard Hardwick and Sir Peter Hall. I may never work again. Of course I needn’t have worried. Peter was full of chat and very funny and meself and Dickie were on good form as well. Of course Dickie got in a load of comments about him being a writer now and all about Karaoke Kings and I got to leave him know that I was going to be working with his son Ed again and Richard got him as only he can;
‘Peter, do you mind if I ask you a strange question?’ Quoth the chauffeur to the stars. I was now curled up in a ball in the back dreading where this might be going.
‘Ok........’ Cagily quoth the founder of the RSC.
‘Well, you know when you get knighted .......... is there food?’
Aw thank god. It was a joke. And it was funny! My career is still intact. I think that lightened the atmosphere as well and he went on to tell us about how he knew Tennessee Williams and when he met Marilyn Monroe and also told us stories about auditions and asked us questions about ourselves as well. In those three hours in the car I got to know the man better than in six weeks of rehearsals. Goes to show. I wouldn’t mind having a few scoops with the man. The idea of dropping me off at the M25 went to shit the minute we had a celebrity in the car and Richard drove all the way into London and dropped Peter close to where he lived (but didn’t drop me as close to where I’m going, the fecker.). Peter got out of the car, gave Dickie a few pound and shook my hand wishing me all the best. And with that handshake ended the maddest week .... actually no ..... the maddest MONTH of my life.
I had survived it.
They thought I couldn’t do it but I did!! I opened and closed a show in the same week and as well as that me credit cards were clear (ah sweet double bubble eases the pain). All I had for the next two weeks was one show of Willows a day.
Ahhhhh sure that was no bother to me at this stage.
I’d be grand as long as it didn’t rain.
Some hope boy.
33. PLANES, TRAINS AND AUTOMOBILES
(Well trains and automobiles at least.)
You know I had so many people tell me I was crazy when I was thinking I could probably do Much Ado and Wind in the Willows together. They breathed a sigh of relief when it looked like it wasn’t possible and jumped back on the calling me crazy bandwagon when it was actually going to happen. Turns out they were dead right. I was feckin crazy. But I didn’t care. I could do it. Even if it killed me.
I was REALLY looking forward to starting Willows. I loved doing the show last year (knackering and all as it was) and seeing as all but one of the cast were coming back to do it , well it was like a school reunion. And its a mega part. I’ve heard it referred to as the King Lear of role’s in children’s shows. Now I don’t know if I’d go that far but it wouldn’t be far off. Also because I wasn’t playing anything substantial in Much Ado (now I’m just stating fact there and not complaining.) it was nice to be able to crack into something really really meaty. So I couldn’t wait. Well actually I didn’t have to wait, the rehearsals started the Monday after the Wednesday that Much Ado opened, and it was straight back into all guns blazing. I had come back into the London on the Saturday night after doing a matinee of Much Ado and went down to the National to have a drink with Dots and his lovely wife Natalie, and sitting on the tube for the first time since the bombings was a weird experience. The way people were suddenly looking at each other. I didn’t want to even think about it to be honest. Twas good to see the man who killed Glenroe and of course I was able to boast about me swanky new job that I’d just gotten:
‘The National Dots? I’m off to New York, love.’
‘Go way boy, sure I’ve played there meself.’
Of course he had. After leaving him I went looking for me flatmate of the O’ Sullivan clan. Gary turned out to be in an all-night night-club called ‘The End’. Well sure I’ll head in for the one before I go home. The ‘one’ lasted until I was standing on Oxford Street at 6 in the morning waiting for a bus and watching the sun come up. Oh my god! And I suddenly got very worried. I mean the last time I did Willows I was losing me voice all over the shop, this time I had the added strain of doing another show at the same time and what do I do the day before I start rehearsing, go on an all night bender!!!! I really thought I was going to be fucked on the Monday.
I thought wrong thank Jesus.
Monday morning I decide to walk to rehearsals, now this had nothing to do with me being cagey about the tubes, I just thought it would be good exercise for me. Honestly. It takes about 50 minutes and its a grand stroll which takes you past Abbey Road and the famous zebra (or Beatle) crossing. I get there and meet all the old familiars and our new Badger and we craic into the read through. And all is well. AHA!! He’s back and he’s green. Then I have a sing through all me stuff with the MD and the pipes are in pretty good form let me tell ya. And the gas thing is they stay that way for the rest of rehearsals. I’m not sure what it was but I had a load more stamina than last year and the only thing I can attribute it too was the fact that I hadn’t come to it cold but was rehearsing and performing right up to and during rehearsals. Good first day to start with and then a lethal session afterwards wherein we start in the Volunteer pub (source of my poverty last year) and end up shitfaced at the bar at the Open Air Theatre drinking staff-discounted wine and free burgers!! We were back in a big way. The next day the travelling started. Now here was the thing. Could I do Willows? Of course I could, sure I had the reviews from last year still in me wardrobe. Could I do Much ado? In me sleep boy. No seriously I could do it in me sleep. Could I do them both at the same time? Feck it sure we’ll soon see. My daily schedule looked a bit like this;
8am: Wake up. Shower, shave and a slice of toast.
9am: Hit the road to Regent’s Park, and I literally mean hit the road as I was still walking to work each morning.
10am: Arrive at the Park for rehearsals and lash into a bit of mad toading.
3.30pm: Knackered after most of a day of mad toading I leave rehearsals to catch the 4pm train to Bath. On which I have a quick sandwich. Hopefully sleep, probably not. And if I do its the kind of sleep that you wake up from with dribble down your face.
5pm: Arrive in Bath. Hopefully sleep, probably not.
6.45pm: Dance warmup (I was still the all singing all dancing dance captain remember).
7.30pm: Hit the boards for a bit of the bard.
10.25pm: Curtain Call and peg it over to the pub for a quick pint.
10.47pm: The last train to London. Hopefully sleep, probably not.
12.45am: Arrive back in the London, at which time the tubes have stopped so I have to get two buses home which inevitably means me standing out in the cold on the Edgware Road and of course the battery in my iPod has decided to be dead as a dodo.
1.30am: Arrive home with a chip in pitta in hand.
2am: Hopefully sleep, probably not.
8am: Wake up. Shower, shave and a slice of toast............... and the rest you know.
Unreal. Now this was the schedule for the travelling days which I have to say wasn’t every day but was at least 4 days in the week, this was because there was only 4 shows of much ado a week. Of course when I had a night off from the play in Bath I would be rehearsing in Regent’s Park until at least 7pm if not 8.30. No rest for the wicked? I must have done some really bad shit then. The weekends became time to sleep rather than drink so the auld social life took a bit of a knock, but I did slip in some quality session time here and there. Sure you’d have to wouldn't you. Another worry at the back of me head was: what if there was a problem with the train one day. That’s the thing about trains in England, unbelievably expensive (it cost over 600 sterling for a travelcard from the London to Bath for the month) and unbelievably unreliable. Anything could happen, delays, cancellations, trains breaking down en route. I was taking a bit of a risk, and I would have been in awful trouble if I missed a show in Bath. Thankfully the first week went fine and everything was looking good for the second week.
Until the Thursday that is.
We had broken for lunch during rehearsals and I was heading over to the canteen for a bit of food and I tried to give the agent a ring. It wouldn’t connect . It said the network was busy . I tried another couple of numbers and they all said the same thing. Network busy. Now why the hell was the network overloaded? The last time that happened was the day of the tube bombs. I started to get a bit worried. I got to the canteen to see the two Andys that were in the show walking out of there ashen faced.
‘Well boys what’s the craic where are ye off to?’
‘There’s been another terrorist attack on the tubes. A friend of mine just called me. Seemingly they used nail bombs and one of them was at Warren Street.’
I went white.
And then show must go on mode kicked in. If this had happened then they would have shut down the tube network straight away. Warren street isn’t far from Regent’s Park so who knows what roads they would close off as well. If it got worse then they’d stop all transport in and out of central London. This was worst case scenario stuff i know , but I had a show in Bath that night and there was no way I was going to let the terrorists win and stop me singing Hey Nonny feckin Nonny. I legged it over to the rehearsal rooms and told the director I had to get to Paddington as soon as possible just in case there was any problem getting out of London. As always she was great and understood completely so I pegged it west on the half hour walk to Paddington. It was mad because along the way you could see people coming out of office buildings in the fear of being stuck in London with no way home, or else they just wanted to get out of this suddenly dangerous place. There was a bit of that in my head as well. The only thing being that I had to return that night. I got to Paddington and it was absolutely mobbed, everyone had the same thought as me then, get the fuck out of London before the whole system shuts down. The packed train pulled out of Paddington and you could see the relief on people’s faces as they got outside the M25. Now I’m not a pessimist by nature but I really thought there was some bad shit going down here, the reports were of a new and even more vicious attack.
Sure don’t believe everything you hear.
It turned out to be a botched attempt by fools, cowards and bastards. I was angry alright. But mostly angry because it made me feel the way I did and that I had to run. Not cool. Very not cool. Thank God the show went well that night. No, thank God no one got hurt.
The rest of the running up and down wasn’t nearly as eventful and everything seemed to be going swimmingly altough really tiring. When I wasn’t able to do the rehearsals Andy Hutch (who was understudying me) was able to lash into getting a decent go at it, more than an understudy would normally get at the park. I was glad because its always worrying when you have to hand a part over to someone for a few shows. You want it to go really well in your absence sure. I knew it was in good hands though. The mad part (part one) came when we got to the tech rehearsals for willows. Of course I could only be there for some of them so I ended up only having half a tech with Andy doing the other. Meaning there was bits I hadn’t rehearsed at all with the new props and new bits of set and the new car and the new pain in me head and so on and so forth. Ah sure that’ll be no bother it’ll sort itself out.
Or will it?
The mad part (part two) was when we got to the first week of Willows. Or do I mean the last week of Much Ado?
Of course I mean both. It was the same feckin week sure.
Now I was feeling that all the people who were calling me crazy were bang on. I just wish they didn’t look so feckin smug. Normally the phrase ‘to open and close a show in the same week’ is not a good one. It should mean that a show has opened and closes days later because it is so bad. Of course that wasn’t my case. I was living that phrase in a far more literal fashion. This is where it could all go so very very wrong. Here’s how the week went;
Monday: Ok not too bad. In early in the morning to continue the tech for willows and there’s a lot of good work done, But of course the time comes and Cinderella has to get the train to Bath. I do the show in Bath although me head is full of lines from the other show. The cast of Much Ado are laughing at me at this stage at the thought that I’m opening a show in the London the next day. I’m laughing at meself at this stage.
Tuesday: 1st preview! In early again, this time to do a dress rehearsal which doesn’t go at all well for me. Sure I never got to finish the feckin tech the day before!!! Jesus! So I was on a real wing and a prayer for the actual show. But it went fine! Thank godddd!!!! That’s the thing when you have an audience in front of you, whether its sheer determination or just pure fear I don’t know but you always seem to get through it and its never as bad a you thought it was going to be. Famous last words I know. But get through it I did and the old buzz was back. AHA!! Now that was why I enjoyed doing the show so much last year. Its just a big load of craic from start to finish. Seeing as I didn’t have a show that night in Bath and I wasn’t doing Willows the next day I got in the horrors as only I can to celebrate the sleep in. I have zero recollection of getting home. Fuck all new there so.
Wednesday: Roll out of bed in an awful state and thank me lucky stars I don’t have a show at 2.30. And while I don’t, me poor understudy does. I had heard him practising the songs after the show the day before and he was in top voice. Big time. We were all standing on the picnic lawn at the theatre having some champagne when he was giving it sox and I turned to me fellow actors with a wry smile;
‘Enjoy that while it lasts lads, because you’ll never hear those notes out of me!’ quoth the bass upon hearing the tenor sing his role correctly.
I knew it was in good hands so and on me way to the train station I dropped into the theatre to leave him a bottle of wine and a copy of the book to wish him luck. But as I walked out of there it was the strangest feeling. Not doing the show .... yes the show was going on, but without me. I felt strangely uneasy and probably a bit jealous. Ah cop on Jamie for feck sake it happens all the time. So I head to Bath and check into the very swish B&B I had treated meself to for the night. Ah sure tis a hectic week I deserve a bit of comfort. We do the show and of course there’s a nice bit of a session afterwards, which turns into a serious bit of a session and before long and ends up being a back to the digs session. 5 of us end up back in the digs of one of the girls as her landlord and landlady were away for the week and we lash into a fair bit of their booze. How bad. The craic was good an the clock ticked on and I ended up falling up the hill to my B&B at 6 in the morning which would make it;
Thursday: I got to bed at 6.30 and breakfast there finished at 8.30!! AH shit, well that was a waste of a B&B but there was no way I was gonna miss the breakfast, I paid enough for it for feck sake. That day was spent sorting out me hangover and sleeping in the theatre to be able to do the show that night. The buzz was now going around that Sir Peter wanted to meet us after the last show on Saturday and the rumour was a West End transfer. Which of course would be lovely but meant feck all for me as I was booked up till December now with Winter’s Tale (Jammy!). Show went grand and I sat on the midnight train to the London with the press show of Willows looming over me cause that was happening -
Friday:
Now I was properly shitting meself.
Why? I hear you ask? Well this was the day of reckoning sure, wasn’t it? Now I know I’d done the show before and there wasn’t that much changed but the pressure was really on me this time. I mean they really pulled out all the stops so I was able to do the show again this year and that meant I had to produce the goods. The only thing now was I had to produce said goods after having two days off from the show and the rest of the cast were just getting used to a new Toad! Jesus this could all go horribly wrong!
It didn’t.
Well from my point of view anyway. I lashed into it like there was no show tomorrow (which for me there wasn’t, I was heading back to finish Much Ado). It turned out to be a lovely sunny day which always helps the crowd at the Open Air Theatre. Obviously. The big boys were in as well; The Independent, Time Out, The Evening Standard and The Financial Times (don’t know how many kids read that to be honest), but I didn’t let the pressure get to me and I poop pooped and AHA’d me way through the 1st act no hassle. Which was a surprise seeing as last year I barely got to the end of the 1st act without an asthma attack, the auld stamina was better this year alright. Then came the 2nd act and all went well until the scene in the secret tunnel. After a bit of banter with the audience about whether to send me home or not Badger would normally grab me and throw me back into line. This time he grabbed me and a bit of my costume came off in his hand and he uttered the immortal words;
‘Oh Shit!’
Oh shit indeed Badger because you said it while your feckin mic was on, so the whole audience heard it.
‘Oooooooooooohhhhhhhh’ went the audience.
‘Ahhhhhhh ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha’ Went Toad, Ratty and Moley as we went into the convulsions.
This was funny but not necessarily good, because he did it in front of about 600 kids and representatives of the national media. I may not have a show to come back to on Monday!! After a bit of messing we got back to doing the show and the animals still beat the Wild Wooders in the end so all was well with the Willows. I was pleased with it and hopefully the reviews would be good but I felt relieved that that day had gone well. The celebrations started. Straight off to the volunteer for flatliners and then on to the Duke of Sussex for Karaoke fun as Hardwick was back doing Saturday nights which all ended up with me falling asleep at the baby grand in the corner only to be dragged home by the buachaill in question. The Willows gang had headed off early as they had an 11 o’clock show the next morning. I didn’t thank Jesus but I did have a 2.30 show in Bath. Bollocks.
Saturday: Woke up with a bastard behind the eyes to have to head up to Bath with Hardwick (who was coming to see the show). It went grand as last shows do although it was weird because it ended on a matinee. We were all on best behaviour as well as Sir Peter Hall was in the building and he had a chat with us all afterwards. It wasn’t going to the West End but it was going to be revived in September 2006 at his new theatre, The Rose in Kingston, and he hoped we’d all be available. Hmmmm .... we’ll see. And that was the end of that, we went to the pub for a swift pint and a lovely pie and the cast swiftly went their separate ways. Hardwick then said to me he was going back to Bedford rather than London so do I mind being dropped off somewhere near the M25 and sure I said not to worry that I still had the travelcard to London so I’d get the train back as it’d be quicker. He dropped me off at the station and I thought that would be the last I’d see of him till the following week. I reckoned without British Rail. I walked onto the platform only to be informed that all trains to London were cancelled due to a fire on the line and that they would be laying on a bus to Paddington. Fuuuck that. I’m bolloxed after the maddest week of me life and now I have to sit on a bus for four hours. I think not good sir!!! It was typical that after a month of problem free travelling there’s a problem on the last day. So I was straight on the phone to the Hardwick to see if his offer of a lift to the M25 was still good. Twas. Happy days. I headed down through the foyer to wait for him outside and on me way I bumped into someone I really didn’t expect to see again. My next phone conversation with Dickie will tell all;
‘Well boy listen we have a passenger coming with us if that’s ok, and you might want to clean up the car.’ quoth I.
‘Why? Who’s coming back with us?’ quoth the driver.
‘Sir Peter Hall.’
‘Fuck off you’re full of shit.’
‘No seriously Dickie, he’s stuck here too and I’ve said he can get a lift with us.’
‘Look, stop taking the piss or else I’m leaving you here. I’ll be there in a second.’
You could hear his eyebrows hit the roof of the car when I walked out of the station followed by one of the most famous directors in the world. NOW he was sorry he didn’t clean the car. It turned out Peter had planned to head back on the same train as I did, so found himself stranded. I literally just bumped into him at the ticket office;
‘It looks like we’re stuck here Jamie.’ quoth the maestro.
‘Well actually Peter I have a mate coming back to pick me up and drop me close to London, would you like a lift?’ meekly quoth I.
‘If that would be ok?’
And there transpired the most surreal car journey I’ve ever experienced. I did not know how this was going to go. 3 hours in a car with Richard Hardwick and Sir Peter Hall. I may never work again. Of course I needn’t have worried. Peter was full of chat and very funny and meself and Dickie were on good form as well. Of course Dickie got in a load of comments about him being a writer now and all about Karaoke Kings and I got to leave him know that I was going to be working with his son Ed again and Richard got him as only he can;
‘Peter, do you mind if I ask you a strange question?’ Quoth the chauffeur to the stars. I was now curled up in a ball in the back dreading where this might be going.
‘Ok........’ Cagily quoth the founder of the RSC.
‘Well, you know when you get knighted .......... is there food?’
Aw thank god. It was a joke. And it was funny! My career is still intact. I think that lightened the atmosphere as well and he went on to tell us about how he knew Tennessee Williams and when he met Marilyn Monroe and also told us stories about auditions and asked us questions about ourselves as well. In those three hours in the car I got to know the man better than in six weeks of rehearsals. Goes to show. I wouldn’t mind having a few scoops with the man. The idea of dropping me off at the M25 went to shit the minute we had a celebrity in the car and Richard drove all the way into London and dropped Peter close to where he lived (but didn’t drop me as close to where I’m going, the fecker.). Peter got out of the car, gave Dickie a few pound and shook my hand wishing me all the best. And with that handshake ended the maddest week .... actually no ..... the maddest MONTH of my life.
I had survived it.
They thought I couldn’t do it but I did!! I opened and closed a show in the same week and as well as that me credit cards were clear (ah sweet double bubble eases the pain). All I had for the next two weeks was one show of Willows a day.
Ahhhhh sure that was no bother to me at this stage.
I’d be grand as long as it didn’t rain.
Some hope boy.
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