8. IT NEVER RAINS.......
But it feckin' pours!
Its an old old saying but very very true. And it always happens to me let me tell you. I go through periods waiting for an acting job and 5 come along at the same time. Well, not always 5. Alright, I've never been offered 5 jobs at the same time but you get the motion picture I'm trying to paint here.
Example. I spent a year out of work when i first left drama school in 2000 and what a horrible year it was. No one would employ me and I was barely getting any auditions. I was literally sitting by the phone waiting for it to ring. I finally got a Job tho. An 8 month tour of Gilbert & Sullivan's swashbuckling operetta Pirates of Penzance with Su Pollard of Hi De Hi infamy! Grand. I was very hungry to work and I felt like I had hit the big time. Then, while I was on tour, I get offered a small part in a new movie. Jesus! I couldn't get a job to save me life and now I had two. But of course they're clashing. And the producers of Pirates wouldn't let me out of my contract for the weeks filming I've been offered and not only that but I was told I would be sacked and sued for breach of contract if they found me to be sick on the dates I requested. Sued on me first job. Well I'd never have worked again but it would make a deadly story down the pub. Nah. So I have to grit my teeth and do my little dance up the back of the chorus in Milton Keynes. Oh the glamour. Ah well. You sign the contract you sign your life away. End of example.
More recent example.
Well I'm like a pig in shit after getting the offer for the Lord of the Rings workshop. Its only 2 weeks but its work goddamnit and cool work at that. It also comes just 5 weeks after Calico finished so that's pretty cool as I haven't had time for the old doubts of ever working again to creep in. A few days before I start though i have a meeting at the BBC with a casting director with the possibility of doing a couple of lines on the courtroom drama 'Judge John Deed'. Never seen it meself to be honest. So up I waltz to BBC Television Centre in the West of the London and tell a nice girl at reception that I'm an actor who's come for a meeting dontchaknow and would she be ever so nice and tell them that I'm here, ready and waiting. I'm still standing there, ready and waiting, 10 minutes later as she rings to see if anyone knows anything about a Jamie Beamish. What do they mean? Don't they know who I am. Bloody right they don't! So I call my agent to find out the casting directors name and once I give that to the girl she proceeds to inform me that I'm in the completely wrong building and that castings take place across the road, where they always take place. Ah. Now I feel like a bit of a pleb. Award nomination or not this is still my first meeting at the BBC, so I really don't have a clue no matter how much I pretend to. Across the road the lady I meet is extremely nice and after a little chat she gives me a page of script and Films me reading the part of the Journalist. Its two lines and that's it. She apologises for it being so little. I tell her not to worry, in the four years I've been an actor I've done no telly so anything would do me grand. I must remember not to sound so desperate in future. She says it should work out fine and indeed it does. The agent rings the following day saying they've offered me the crucial part of the Journalist and I'll be needed for 3 days filming the day after i finish Lord of the Rings. Nice one! Not only have I just gotten my first telly job but it comes straight after another job. How bad. Me mother will be delighted. Its not The Bill but its something.
But.
Ah but there's always a but with me isn't there. But the read through for it is right in the middle of the Lord of the Rings workshop so I can't make it. Aw c'mon they're not going to replace me just because I can't turn up to read two lines. Are they? I don't know, its my first telly. It takes 3 days for them to come back to my agent to say its ok, I don't have to be there. Whew. Grand, sorted so.
But.
Aw jesus not another but? Oh yes, for nothing is ever easy when it comes to my frigging career.
The first few days of the Lord of the Rings workshop go very well. There's only 10 actors doing it and some of them are pretty shit - hot famous-in-London-theatre types so I'm well chuffed to even be there. I would go into it more about the show but alas I cannot. Why, I hear you cry? Well on the first day before we even sat down we were made sign a contract saying we would keep all details of the workshop and the music and script private and confidential. A bit like a gagging order I suppose. I'm not really sure what would actually happen to me if I did say anything. Maybe I'd have to give up my first born child or something? Who knows, all I do know is that if I told you I'd probably have to kill you. They take things seriously in the wonderful world of showbiz!
(Speaking of secrecy I found out recently that the film I mentioned that the Hubbards were casting, Tiny dancer, is not called that at all. Its a made up name being used because the film its hiding is super top secret. I found out its real name the other day. Its King Kong. The remake that Peter Jackson is directing. Now I'm like a dog I wasn't seen for it! But I digress....grrrr)
On the 3rd day of the workshop the producer comes in to have a chat with everyone individually. It turns out one of the actors is unavailable to do the final audio recording of the workshop on the last day, so would everyone be available to do the recording the day after? And of course everyone is, everyone...but...me. Aw no, hang on now. Are ye telling me I have to give up my first telly job because some other actor's agent cocked up their dates? If he can't do the recording then tough! Replace him! I mean who does he think he is? Well he happens to be one of London's top stage actors, with two Olivier awards under his belt and is playing the somewhat important part of Gandalf. So the real question is who am I? And the answer is very replaceable. I'm told that if i can't make the recording then i will have to be replaced, although they would very much like me to stay. So much so that the producers are willing to compensate the money I will lose from turning down the BBC job. Now that is indeed very very generous. But its not the point. This is my first telly, and although it may be only 2 lines its a start and we all need that. Once you start having telly credits on your cv then people will start seeing you for more and the ball gets rolling. Also this is a job I've already agreed to do so I stand to lose a lot of face at the BBC for messing them about. So there was the decision, and I had to make it.
Of course I chose lord of the Rings.
I mean wouldn't you? The chance to work on a huge big budget stage adaption of one of the greatest literary adventures of all time with one of the top young directors in the country or 2 lines on a drama series with Bodie out of the professionals. Answers to my email address. So I put the whole BBC thing to the back of my mind and got on with the job at hand. We had a quest to fulfill after all.
But.
Yes another one. A good one though. The agent rang the day after I made my decision to say that the producer of Lord of the Rings had rung the BBC to explain what had happened. This is good as it shifts the blame from me and the BBC wont think I'm arseing them about.
"The BBC were happy with this explanation."
Good.
"So much so that they have released you from the filming on the Monday and you will start on Tuesday instead!"
I'm sorry, come again. You mean the producer actually sorted everything out and I still have the other job? While this is not unheard of it is in my career. I think back to the trouble me getting that film during Pirates caused and how nasty the producer was there. It warms my heart to see someone actually appreciating an actor enough to go to a bit of trouble to help him out. So the moral of this story is that not all producers are shitheads. Just some. So two buses came at the same time and miraculously I was able to hop on both. The only downer is that I can't say anything about Lord of the Rings. But that said, it was me who signed the contract and enough people (girls) have told me that I'm a completely different person when I'm drunk, and seeing as that person never signed any contract I can be paid in beer for information. Sweet.
So there it was, you really never know what's around the corner in this Job. After the disappointment of Calico closing I (After a bit of drama) had 2 nice little jobs........Well...... 3 actually. I've just accepted the offer from the Open Air Theatre. I start rehearsing for Toad in Wind in the Willows from the 5th of July. Its going to be a very green and interesting summer.
But 2 lines on a telly program.
Me Mammy's over the moon.
Friday, April 30, 2004
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.
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.
Thursday, April 15, 2004
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?
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?
Monday, April 05, 2004
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.
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.
Saturday, March 27, 2004
4. AND THE WINNER IS...........
Not me. But I couldn't be happier.
I love awards ceremonies. Watching them that is. I'm a big oscar buff and many was the night in March staying up all night to watch the ceremony live. I'm an avid follower of the Olivier's too and was extremely excited this year as a show I was in last year (High Society) was nominated for best musical. I was so excited, in fact, that I gatecrashed the afters of the ceremony with a few of the lads out of the cast. Deadly night! I love the excitement of them the tension the politics, the drama. I get nervous just watching them on the telly, cheering out loud as I did when Robin Williams won his oscar for Good Will Hunting. Screaming at the tv as Forrest Gump sweeps up at the oscars (Beating Pulp Fiction for christ's sake).
So you can just imagine what I was like attending my first awards ceremony last Friday (26th)....and to make it worse I was a nominee......oh crap.
Last year I spent a wonderful summer at the Open Air Theatre in Regent's park performing Shakespeare for the first time. It was the business. I had two small roles in Two Gentlemen of Verona and a Midsummer Night's Dream. Shakespeare boy. what the hell am I doing performing shakespeare? I used sit at the back of English class in De La Salle College and sleep while we studied a dead ENGLISH playwright. I mean what the feck does this stuff mean? Its archaic. That was before I performed it for the first time. My mind was changed very very quickly. Without wanting to sound wanky the beauty of shakespeare is in the performing or the watching not in double english last thing on a Friday. The poetry the drama the comedy is all there and your challenge as the performer is to make it clear understandable and interesting to an audience. Ok, three pound acting lesson over. But its deadly, believe me. And I had a ball doing it. Now please remember these were small roles. Small. Not Big. SMALL. I wasn't playing bloody hamlet or anything, I was just happy to have to say a few lines of this weird old shite, and I thought that it was all over and forgotten about until a few weeks ago I get a call from the office at the Open Air to say that I have been nominated for the Ian Charleson award.
Come again?
Yes I did hear right. Oh Jesus! The Ian Charleson award is for the best performance by an actor/actress under 30 in a play written before 1904 (the year of Chekov's death dontchaknow) or in Layman's terms best young classical actor. There's 14 nominees from productions all over England and I'm one of them.
What me?
Yes you. Aw man. So off I have to trot, adorned in a suit and accompanied by the director of Two Gentlemen of Verona, to an awards lunch at the Royal National Theatre which will have Michael Gambon as guest of honour. lovely.
The day arrives and I'm bricking it. big time. I've got the sweats and the suit is NOT helping. Why have I got the sweats? Well let's see....Isn't that Charles Dance over there....oh and there's richard griffiths,,,,,,ah yes there's Sir Peter Hall......jesus who's next? Its a bit of a who's who of older english actors and the other nominees seem to know lots of them. I, on the other hand, know no one. I mean who the hell am I? all the nominees are under 30 alright but some of them are seasoned classical actors. I'm an aul messer from Waterford boy. All I'm worried about at this stage is not looking like a pleb. Be cool, calm and professional. Then someone accidently bumps into me. The voice that says sorry is very familiar......I mean like every day on sky one kind of familiar.....I mean professor x kind of familiar. Sorry about that says Patrick Stewart. How bad.
The meal goes well. I'm put at a table with a few actors I know of and a couple of directors (which will do me no harm at all). Its grand. I don't spill my food down me (borrowed) tie. Then the prize giving gets going. And suddenly I realise what's happening. I'M AT AN AWARDS CEREMONY!!!!!!!!!
So me heart is jumping now. Big time. Not because I think I'm going to win. I'm not. I played two SMALL roles at the Open Air for feck's sake. i can't even have a drink because I have a show that night. nuts.
The large Irish oak of a man that is sir Michael Gambon goes up to the mike. He's funny. That should calm me down. It doesn't. the judges get up to give citations about all the nominees and then you have to go up and collect a framed certificate of commendation. Grand. I was warned about that. at the end then they give out 3rd 2nd and 1st prizes. Alphabetically I'm first on the list of nominees so I'll be called called first and it'll all be over with. Grand cause I can't take much more of this anxiety.
First citation is given.
Its not me.
What's going on here? After 8 citations I am now feeling like crap because I start thinking that they have forgotten me. I knew I wasn't meant to be there. But then a little thought slips into my mind. I tell it to piss off but it won't..........maybe I've been placed.........that's it so. I've officially got the shits and my heart is now half way down my shirt, there's only 5 names left on the list, jesus I might have been plac....
"It is always nice to be able to recognise a performance in a small role."
And with those sweet words my misery was ended. Nice words were said about me including that I played Thisbe in a Midsummer night's Dream like a "Defrocked nun". It wasn't in my mind at the time but I'll agree with you kind sir that nominated me. I got up to warm applause (Who the hell's this guy I'm sure they all said) shook hands with sir Michael he handed me my framed cert we posed for a picture;
"Don't forget your champagne" Quoth Sir Michael.
"That's why I'm here boy" Quoth I. You can't bring me anywhere.
So I didn't win (the excellent lisa Dillon did and well deserved too) but I don't care. I got to go to an awards ceremony and not as a bystander but as a nominee. How bad, not too shabby for an auld blaa. People have already started to take me more seriously as an actor because of it and I had a deadly day met really cool people and I walked past the theatre where I spent nine months as a front of house assistant at a time no one would give me a job. I used to walk past it and my heart would sink to think I have to do that crap job again. this time I had an award commendation a bottle of champagne and my head held high as I made my way to another theatre where I was in a west end play.
So although I didn't win I'm still a winner. A cliché but true. So i don't mind that I didn't win.
Then I found out that the winner gets a cheque for £5,000.
Shite!
Bitter? Me?
Maybe...........
Not me. But I couldn't be happier.
I love awards ceremonies. Watching them that is. I'm a big oscar buff and many was the night in March staying up all night to watch the ceremony live. I'm an avid follower of the Olivier's too and was extremely excited this year as a show I was in last year (High Society) was nominated for best musical. I was so excited, in fact, that I gatecrashed the afters of the ceremony with a few of the lads out of the cast. Deadly night! I love the excitement of them the tension the politics, the drama. I get nervous just watching them on the telly, cheering out loud as I did when Robin Williams won his oscar for Good Will Hunting. Screaming at the tv as Forrest Gump sweeps up at the oscars (Beating Pulp Fiction for christ's sake).
So you can just imagine what I was like attending my first awards ceremony last Friday (26th)....and to make it worse I was a nominee......oh crap.
Last year I spent a wonderful summer at the Open Air Theatre in Regent's park performing Shakespeare for the first time. It was the business. I had two small roles in Two Gentlemen of Verona and a Midsummer Night's Dream. Shakespeare boy. what the hell am I doing performing shakespeare? I used sit at the back of English class in De La Salle College and sleep while we studied a dead ENGLISH playwright. I mean what the feck does this stuff mean? Its archaic. That was before I performed it for the first time. My mind was changed very very quickly. Without wanting to sound wanky the beauty of shakespeare is in the performing or the watching not in double english last thing on a Friday. The poetry the drama the comedy is all there and your challenge as the performer is to make it clear understandable and interesting to an audience. Ok, three pound acting lesson over. But its deadly, believe me. And I had a ball doing it. Now please remember these were small roles. Small. Not Big. SMALL. I wasn't playing bloody hamlet or anything, I was just happy to have to say a few lines of this weird old shite, and I thought that it was all over and forgotten about until a few weeks ago I get a call from the office at the Open Air to say that I have been nominated for the Ian Charleson award.
Come again?
Yes I did hear right. Oh Jesus! The Ian Charleson award is for the best performance by an actor/actress under 30 in a play written before 1904 (the year of Chekov's death dontchaknow) or in Layman's terms best young classical actor. There's 14 nominees from productions all over England and I'm one of them.
What me?
Yes you. Aw man. So off I have to trot, adorned in a suit and accompanied by the director of Two Gentlemen of Verona, to an awards lunch at the Royal National Theatre which will have Michael Gambon as guest of honour. lovely.
The day arrives and I'm bricking it. big time. I've got the sweats and the suit is NOT helping. Why have I got the sweats? Well let's see....Isn't that Charles Dance over there....oh and there's richard griffiths,,,,,,ah yes there's Sir Peter Hall......jesus who's next? Its a bit of a who's who of older english actors and the other nominees seem to know lots of them. I, on the other hand, know no one. I mean who the hell am I? all the nominees are under 30 alright but some of them are seasoned classical actors. I'm an aul messer from Waterford boy. All I'm worried about at this stage is not looking like a pleb. Be cool, calm and professional. Then someone accidently bumps into me. The voice that says sorry is very familiar......I mean like every day on sky one kind of familiar.....I mean professor x kind of familiar. Sorry about that says Patrick Stewart. How bad.
The meal goes well. I'm put at a table with a few actors I know of and a couple of directors (which will do me no harm at all). Its grand. I don't spill my food down me (borrowed) tie. Then the prize giving gets going. And suddenly I realise what's happening. I'M AT AN AWARDS CEREMONY!!!!!!!!!
So me heart is jumping now. Big time. Not because I think I'm going to win. I'm not. I played two SMALL roles at the Open Air for feck's sake. i can't even have a drink because I have a show that night. nuts.
The large Irish oak of a man that is sir Michael Gambon goes up to the mike. He's funny. That should calm me down. It doesn't. the judges get up to give citations about all the nominees and then you have to go up and collect a framed certificate of commendation. Grand. I was warned about that. at the end then they give out 3rd 2nd and 1st prizes. Alphabetically I'm first on the list of nominees so I'll be called called first and it'll all be over with. Grand cause I can't take much more of this anxiety.
First citation is given.
Its not me.
What's going on here? After 8 citations I am now feeling like crap because I start thinking that they have forgotten me. I knew I wasn't meant to be there. But then a little thought slips into my mind. I tell it to piss off but it won't..........maybe I've been placed.........that's it so. I've officially got the shits and my heart is now half way down my shirt, there's only 5 names left on the list, jesus I might have been plac....
"It is always nice to be able to recognise a performance in a small role."
And with those sweet words my misery was ended. Nice words were said about me including that I played Thisbe in a Midsummer night's Dream like a "Defrocked nun". It wasn't in my mind at the time but I'll agree with you kind sir that nominated me. I got up to warm applause (Who the hell's this guy I'm sure they all said) shook hands with sir Michael he handed me my framed cert we posed for a picture;
"Don't forget your champagne" Quoth Sir Michael.
"That's why I'm here boy" Quoth I. You can't bring me anywhere.
So I didn't win (the excellent lisa Dillon did and well deserved too) but I don't care. I got to go to an awards ceremony and not as a bystander but as a nominee. How bad, not too shabby for an auld blaa. People have already started to take me more seriously as an actor because of it and I had a deadly day met really cool people and I walked past the theatre where I spent nine months as a front of house assistant at a time no one would give me a job. I used to walk past it and my heart would sink to think I have to do that crap job again. this time I had an award commendation a bottle of champagne and my head held high as I made my way to another theatre where I was in a west end play.
So although I didn't win I'm still a winner. A cliché but true. So i don't mind that I didn't win.
Then I found out that the winner gets a cheque for £5,000.
Shite!
Bitter? Me?
Maybe...........
Friday, March 26, 2004
3. THE NEXT ORLANDO BLOOM
Meetings with casting directors can be awful things. With auditions (bad and all as they are) at least you have an idea of what you are going for and so can prepare for it accordingly. Meetings, however, are just a general hello, this is me, I hope you like me and I certainly hope you might consider seeing me for an audition in the future. You have no opportunity to wow them with with any kind of acting talent you hope to possess, its just you and your history laid out bare in front of them....no lines to read......no scenes to perform. Just you. And that's scary. I had a few in my first year trying to be an actor and let me tell you they did not go well.
I had a doozy this week.
If you are an avid fan of rolling credits at the end of movies you will have heard of John Hubbard. Pretty much any big movie or television drama with some kind of English or Irish connection will have the hubbards involved in some way. This is a very powerful man.
And I had a meeting with him.
And it went well.....
Because of the show I'm doing at the moment and the award nomination I received suddenly people are taking me a lot more seriously than they used to and that's very welcome indeed. I'm sitting in an office in central London with one of the biggest screen casting directors and he's chatting to me about how he hates the bridge in waterford and how he prefers the Passage East car ferry to it. Its going well. We chat about my work and he's not losing interest and sending me on my way. Very good sign. He gets a phone call and instead of ending the meeting he asks me to wait. Good.....good. While he talks about how some (probably well famous) actor is not right for a role because he's not severe enough I'm nosying and catch sight of a folder which says "Return of the King Casting Notes"................ah for jesus' sake! What's going to happen here? Is he going to end that call and tell me that although the actor he was just talking about is not severe enough for the part it doesn't matter a damn because I am and could i start filming monday on Bryan Singer's new movie?
I'll have to think about it john.
Yeah right. I would never have said that and what's more I didn't get the chance to be in the situation to do so. Pipe dreams belong up a pipe remember.....but stranger things have happened. Just not this time. A further 5 minutes of pleasantries and the meeting is over. But its gone well, I can feel it. And I don't say that very often. nice.
So the agent phones the next day. Please excuse me as I paraphrase......
"I spoke to Hubbards this morning and John reeeaaalllly Liked you."
Sound.
"He said you came across very well and he liked your background"
All going well so far.
"you see there is a new film they are casting called Tiny Dancer and there is a part there for a man 25 - 30. Nerd"
Well I can do nerd. Believe me, I can do nerd!
"And I was hoping by meeting you he would consider you for it"
Keep going. Don't stop now!
"But......"
ah
"He just got a call from the american producers that morning and he was instructed to find, for that part, the next Orlando Bloom."
Ah there's the rub. I've just had a great meeting with a very important person, he likes me a lot. he wants to see me for things in the future. That's the great news. The thing is, I guess there comes a time in every actors life when they realise they are not.........the next Orlando Bloom! It makes you stop and think alright. Do I really want a 2005 calender based on my visage?
Nah.
The next Orlando Bloom?
Not me buddy. Wont sell enough calenders.
I like meetings a lot more now though.
Meetings with casting directors can be awful things. With auditions (bad and all as they are) at least you have an idea of what you are going for and so can prepare for it accordingly. Meetings, however, are just a general hello, this is me, I hope you like me and I certainly hope you might consider seeing me for an audition in the future. You have no opportunity to wow them with with any kind of acting talent you hope to possess, its just you and your history laid out bare in front of them....no lines to read......no scenes to perform. Just you. And that's scary. I had a few in my first year trying to be an actor and let me tell you they did not go well.
I had a doozy this week.
If you are an avid fan of rolling credits at the end of movies you will have heard of John Hubbard. Pretty much any big movie or television drama with some kind of English or Irish connection will have the hubbards involved in some way. This is a very powerful man.
And I had a meeting with him.
And it went well.....
Because of the show I'm doing at the moment and the award nomination I received suddenly people are taking me a lot more seriously than they used to and that's very welcome indeed. I'm sitting in an office in central London with one of the biggest screen casting directors and he's chatting to me about how he hates the bridge in waterford and how he prefers the Passage East car ferry to it. Its going well. We chat about my work and he's not losing interest and sending me on my way. Very good sign. He gets a phone call and instead of ending the meeting he asks me to wait. Good.....good. While he talks about how some (probably well famous) actor is not right for a role because he's not severe enough I'm nosying and catch sight of a folder which says "Return of the King Casting Notes"................ah for jesus' sake! What's going to happen here? Is he going to end that call and tell me that although the actor he was just talking about is not severe enough for the part it doesn't matter a damn because I am and could i start filming monday on Bryan Singer's new movie?
I'll have to think about it john.
Yeah right. I would never have said that and what's more I didn't get the chance to be in the situation to do so. Pipe dreams belong up a pipe remember.....but stranger things have happened. Just not this time. A further 5 minutes of pleasantries and the meeting is over. But its gone well, I can feel it. And I don't say that very often. nice.
So the agent phones the next day. Please excuse me as I paraphrase......
"I spoke to Hubbards this morning and John reeeaaalllly Liked you."
Sound.
"He said you came across very well and he liked your background"
All going well so far.
"you see there is a new film they are casting called Tiny Dancer and there is a part there for a man 25 - 30. Nerd"
Well I can do nerd. Believe me, I can do nerd!
"And I was hoping by meeting you he would consider you for it"
Keep going. Don't stop now!
"But......"
ah
"He just got a call from the american producers that morning and he was instructed to find, for that part, the next Orlando Bloom."
Ah there's the rub. I've just had a great meeting with a very important person, he likes me a lot. he wants to see me for things in the future. That's the great news. The thing is, I guess there comes a time in every actors life when they realise they are not.........the next Orlando Bloom! It makes you stop and think alright. Do I really want a 2005 calender based on my visage?
Nah.
The next Orlando Bloom?
Not me buddy. Wont sell enough calenders.
I like meetings a lot more now though.
Monday, March 22, 2004
2. ONE WEEK ON
And a week is a long time in the business called show let me tell ya!!
It all started quite well to be honest. I had just been offered a new job without having to audition (Which as any actor will tell you is the best thing ever because auditions are the worst part of the job. But of course they are the only way to get a job....normally). My agent had phoned to say she had received a call from the artistic director of the Open Air Theatre in Regent's Park (Where I have worked a couple of times previously) who was very interested in casting me as Toad in their forthcoming production of the Wind in the Willows.
How Bad!?
Toad is a great role, pretty much the lead in the play and this would begin 4 weeks after the end of my current show, Calico, and would bring me right through to the end of august. My only concern was this was the daytime show but that's not such a bad thing either, to have my nights free for a while. And all this had fallen into my lap without even having to audition. A slight bit of me is saying this is too good to be true another part of me is saying enjoy the small bit of recognition for a change. All I need to do is meet the director on thursday (Who I know quite well) to have a chat about it and make up my mind as they're not seeing any one else for the role.
A good start to the week.
It got better. Wednesday was St. Patrick's Day. the day to stop and reflect on the fact that you are irish, and to be as irish as humanly possible and get as blind drunk as humanly possible. I of course had two shows. Actors hate auditions, that's a fact. They hate matinees even more. The show during the day that is inevitably attended by an older age group than normal, so not much reaction from them meaning you're busting your ass on the stage to try and wake them up. By the time the curtain comes down you're knackered but grateful for it to be over until you realise you have to do it all again in a couple of hours time. Ah Jesus! Its hard and it's harder when the bars are packed with hard drinking hooligans celebrating the loss of snakes from good old ireland and you would give your left nut to be there. But its alright. I've people I know in watching the show that night so I'm happy to do the other show. the People in question are 1) the erstwhile artistic director of Red Kettle Theatre Co. and the macbeth of Morley Terrace, Ben Hennessy, 2) One of Waterford's best known actors and the man that killed Glenroe, Brian 'Dots' Doherty and 3) One of Waterford's best known redheads Mr. Keith Dunphy. Good men all and no finer gentlemen would I wish to have a beer with on paddy's day.
Show goes well and we all have some champagne in my dressing room (I am in the west end you know and that's how one does things :-) we head over to the Harp, a bar near the theatre. Few beers. Off to that stalwart club on Adam's street. More beers and a chat with the Darkness and Brian May. Come the wee hours I'm twisted and on a bus home. miss my stop. It takes 2 hours to get home. Rough.
Typical Paddy's day then.
Woke up on Thursday with an enormous hangover, I mean HUGE. And oh crap I have a meeting with the director of WIND IN THE WILLOWS. Nuts. Head over to Regent's Park. Meeting is good (if extremely painful, they made me sing one of Toad's songs, just my bloody luck) could be a good job but we'll see says me. Meet up with Ben for a bite to eat and a chat about writing some music for his new play in the summer. Then do the show. Things are good. I'm in work until the end of may in a new west end play and now I have two offers for work after it finishes. How bad?
Nah.
Show goes well, audience a bit small but happy and we're all going for a company meal afterwards in Joe Allens (where all the actors go after their west end performances dontchaknow). So we're leaving the stage after the bows happy with the work and we're asked to stay on stage by the company manager. Oh. Our producer comes on stage with the writer. Oh Crap. And she says the worst phrase known to man (or theatre people at least)
TWO WEEKS NOTICE
Aw shite. As i've said CALICO was to run until the end of may but with those three horrible words we close on the 3rd of April and I'm extremely unemployed. Poor audiences and a few unfair reviews were to blame they said, nothing to do with us. Well that makes it all better doesn't it? So its all over bar the shouting and the company meal is a great success after that. Yeah right.
So what do you do?
Well I've already applied to be an usher in me local cinema.
I should've been a plumber.
Toad's looking pretty good now...........
And a week is a long time in the business called show let me tell ya!!
It all started quite well to be honest. I had just been offered a new job without having to audition (Which as any actor will tell you is the best thing ever because auditions are the worst part of the job. But of course they are the only way to get a job....normally). My agent had phoned to say she had received a call from the artistic director of the Open Air Theatre in Regent's Park (Where I have worked a couple of times previously) who was very interested in casting me as Toad in their forthcoming production of the Wind in the Willows.
How Bad!?
Toad is a great role, pretty much the lead in the play and this would begin 4 weeks after the end of my current show, Calico, and would bring me right through to the end of august. My only concern was this was the daytime show but that's not such a bad thing either, to have my nights free for a while. And all this had fallen into my lap without even having to audition. A slight bit of me is saying this is too good to be true another part of me is saying enjoy the small bit of recognition for a change. All I need to do is meet the director on thursday (Who I know quite well) to have a chat about it and make up my mind as they're not seeing any one else for the role.
A good start to the week.
It got better. Wednesday was St. Patrick's Day. the day to stop and reflect on the fact that you are irish, and to be as irish as humanly possible and get as blind drunk as humanly possible. I of course had two shows. Actors hate auditions, that's a fact. They hate matinees even more. The show during the day that is inevitably attended by an older age group than normal, so not much reaction from them meaning you're busting your ass on the stage to try and wake them up. By the time the curtain comes down you're knackered but grateful for it to be over until you realise you have to do it all again in a couple of hours time. Ah Jesus! Its hard and it's harder when the bars are packed with hard drinking hooligans celebrating the loss of snakes from good old ireland and you would give your left nut to be there. But its alright. I've people I know in watching the show that night so I'm happy to do the other show. the People in question are 1) the erstwhile artistic director of Red Kettle Theatre Co. and the macbeth of Morley Terrace, Ben Hennessy, 2) One of Waterford's best known actors and the man that killed Glenroe, Brian 'Dots' Doherty and 3) One of Waterford's best known redheads Mr. Keith Dunphy. Good men all and no finer gentlemen would I wish to have a beer with on paddy's day.
Show goes well and we all have some champagne in my dressing room (I am in the west end you know and that's how one does things :-) we head over to the Harp, a bar near the theatre. Few beers. Off to that stalwart club on Adam's street. More beers and a chat with the Darkness and Brian May. Come the wee hours I'm twisted and on a bus home. miss my stop. It takes 2 hours to get home. Rough.
Typical Paddy's day then.
Woke up on Thursday with an enormous hangover, I mean HUGE. And oh crap I have a meeting with the director of WIND IN THE WILLOWS. Nuts. Head over to Regent's Park. Meeting is good (if extremely painful, they made me sing one of Toad's songs, just my bloody luck) could be a good job but we'll see says me. Meet up with Ben for a bite to eat and a chat about writing some music for his new play in the summer. Then do the show. Things are good. I'm in work until the end of may in a new west end play and now I have two offers for work after it finishes. How bad?
Nah.
Show goes well, audience a bit small but happy and we're all going for a company meal afterwards in Joe Allens (where all the actors go after their west end performances dontchaknow). So we're leaving the stage after the bows happy with the work and we're asked to stay on stage by the company manager. Oh. Our producer comes on stage with the writer. Oh Crap. And she says the worst phrase known to man (or theatre people at least)
TWO WEEKS NOTICE
Aw shite. As i've said CALICO was to run until the end of may but with those three horrible words we close on the 3rd of April and I'm extremely unemployed. Poor audiences and a few unfair reviews were to blame they said, nothing to do with us. Well that makes it all better doesn't it? So its all over bar the shouting and the company meal is a great success after that. Yeah right.
So what do you do?
Well I've already applied to be an usher in me local cinema.
I should've been a plumber.
Toad's looking pretty good now...........
Sunday, March 14, 2004
1. AND SO IT BEGINS
Well there we are then.
so.
hmmmmmm........
Right.
You see I've been reading a couple of online weblogs for a while now and they all looked so easy to be honest, but when you actually sit down and start one....well there's the rub. What do you say? Not sure exactly what the answer is but if there is anyone at all reading this i guess I should kinda say what you might expect to read in this particular weblog.
Such as it is.
Well I'm Jamie Beamish. A Waterford man living and working as a professional actor in the big smoke of London England. So this weblog might be slightly show biz to be honest. I'm currently appearing in a new West End play called CALICO and have just been nominated for the 2003 Ian Charleson Award for the best classical performance by an actor under 30. As this blog goes on it'll include my own musings on the entertainment industry as a whole and probably theatre (and london theatre) in particular. Also some stories from the crazy life that an actor sometimes leads.
But today it just begins.
And i'm not sure what to say
But I know I'll get better.
Promise.
Well there we are then.
so.
hmmmmmm........
Right.
You see I've been reading a couple of online weblogs for a while now and they all looked so easy to be honest, but when you actually sit down and start one....well there's the rub. What do you say? Not sure exactly what the answer is but if there is anyone at all reading this i guess I should kinda say what you might expect to read in this particular weblog.
Such as it is.
Well I'm Jamie Beamish. A Waterford man living and working as a professional actor in the big smoke of London England. So this weblog might be slightly show biz to be honest. I'm currently appearing in a new West End play called CALICO and have just been nominated for the 2003 Ian Charleson Award for the best classical performance by an actor under 30. As this blog goes on it'll include my own musings on the entertainment industry as a whole and probably theatre (and london theatre) in particular. Also some stories from the crazy life that an actor sometimes leads.
But today it just begins.
And i'm not sure what to say
But I know I'll get better.
Promise.
Well there we are then.
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