The weekend might bring a period of relative restfulness. I’m having second thoughts about my nascent plan to go to Wilderness on Saturday night. I think it might actually literally kill me. My body needs to stop, not go go go. There’ll be plenty of dancing in America. My visa has been approved and my passport sent back. Just in time for the weekend. I don’t have the worry of the commute now for two days. One show tonight. Two shows Saturday. Wilderness Festival on Sunday and then somehow home on Sunday night before another week of madness.
I’m so tired I can barely write. Show starts in less than an hour. Bring the adrenaline…
Adrenaline came. It was a tired show for sure, but one that went well.
We all had one gobby drunk bloke come round, and I’m happy with how I played with him despite his unusual approach to shared fun. He came in with the attitude that there was a “fourth wall” that can be “broken” – (his words to other groups “ooh sorry am I breaking the fourth wall”). He wanted to be the one to break this nonexistent thing. It seems he was repeatedly thrilled with himself for defying a convention that isn’t in our show. A little learning is a dangerous thing. To everyone in his group he was probably just a drunk annoyance. To us he was fifty shades of boring. But annoying enough to warrant a mention. Most of us had a story about him when we reconvened. “White T-Shirt guy? Oh yeah he was a boring little turd.”
I like gobby people in my scene. I’m under time pressure though so if they try too hard to make my bit about them I will have to railroad them to get the basic facts across. But if my audience is obedient and silent it’s harder and duller as I just have to mechanically do Shakespeare content. I usually make someone a knight though. But I do it to teach them to play.
A close friend in the audience volunteered to be the knight with quite a staid group who wanted to be just trad audience and were silent when I asked who wanted to be a knight. It was delightful of her, of course, and maybe she thought she was bailing me out but it was exactly what I didn’t want. The group needed to be taught not to be so backwards in coming forwards, especially as it was my first of the night so they were likely to continue to be joyless throughout the show. In everyone else’s scenes. I was about to pile into them. I’m the king. I can teach them the idiom. I don’t have long but I can reprimand them for being totally disconnected and try to force them to start being playful. Boring audience equals boring scene. That lot would’ve walked around all evening trying to watch trad theatre rather than trying to muck in and have fun. Fuck ’em, of course. But a shame when there’s a friend in the group.
I do it ten times a night so if you’re playless and dry it’s fine, another group is right behind you. But I know how much fun this show can be if you’re not dead inside. It’s a lovely thing to come back to.
Here’s my only photo, of a hope boat. Blow your hope into it.