WeTransfer is currently uploading a self tape. It’s a good part for me, but I ambitiously tried to frame it so I could stand up into shot and sit down again, as the scene wanted that, and it has ended up showing the workings as I couldn’t find a way to crop it into landscape without decapitating myself. And a cat walked into the Ident. I’ve sent it anyway, as part of my brand is humanity. I’ve gone this long hoping that will be recognised. I am in so far in blood…
I’m wearing another of the Opera House costumes. This one resembles what the fellow is wearing in a picture I found online. He was a real person. In lieu of a cummerbund, I’ve got a silk scarf and a single stocking of about the same colour. In the picture he’s wearing a wig, as they often did back then. I could pass.
There’s a bit of white shirt poking out. I really ought to invest in a selection of good cummerbunds. It’s always down to improvisation, but the costumes came for free so I guess I’m not used to laying out cash. Useful costumes, I would say, although a little part of me feels like you get the part as frequently if you just do it in whatever and look like you don’t give a shit and just tripped over the lines.
The tape came after a double shift of dayjobbing and before a press night. I was lucky enough to get a ticket to Jazz Emu at Soho Theatre, which is a brilliant escape into high status clowning, backed up by real musical ability. I put down two pints in quick succession before the show, and then took a third in. By the curtain I was feeling distinctly unwell. I’m not sure how that’s happened. Pre lockdown that wouldn’t have touched the sides. All I had eaten was an egg and cress sandwich, which might have been part of it. But perhaps… Perhaps I haven’t got the beer legs I used to have. Good thing too. Six quid plus each they were. Lack of booze makes theatre and restaurants much more affordable, and it seems that whether I want it or not my body is going that way – or is it my mind? Whatever it is, I pulled out as soon as the show was over and got myself home to a mostly empty fridge and a dinner of cheese on toast.
Hopefully The General will land. It’s a human tape… There are opportunities in the pipeline, and they feel right… All the fingers crossed that something crystallises. The way things are going it’s a comfort that I won’t be blowing all my fee on booze anymore…
AlBarclay 