I’m home.
My debut performance at the RSC.
Spike the movement director sat next to Stephen Fry – he directed me in my first ever job in the industry. He was in the house tonight. I’m happy he’s still supporting Tim. I enjoyed that Twelfth Night, at The Globe. I was at the front of the pit while a load of people I’d been running alongside played Twelfth Night, with him as Malvolio.
Tonight I played Lodovico and fuck me was I nervous? I thought I had learned to deal with that shit long ago. Turns out full house at the RSC still can put the shits up me, not to the extent of shakyleg disease, that one is thankfully long gone. But bad breathing, vocal push… I wasn’t totally relaxed out there despite being surrounded by friends and in a safe place. Thankfully I know I wasn’t alone as nobody here is the kid that pretends to do no work and does all the work. We all work hard and then we admit it when we feel like we haven’t worked hard enough. I was pushing on my first entrance.
It does help me inform a character arc for Lodovico, because as I relaxed into my body and breath I realised that Lodo would be similar. He’s come from the rarefied world of high society Venice, into lawless Cyprus. It takes him by surprise, he doesn’t want to spent time in it and he’s damned if he’s going to to die there. So he arbitrates governance, secures future stability and gets the fuck out as quickly as he can. The last two lines of the play I’m just saying “I’m going home immediately so I can tell people what’s happened. BYE!”
But yeah I was nervous. I’m only human. This company exists in the imagination of most actors as an aspirational company. I want my debut to be good. Nerves are the opposite of helping, but perhaps sadly inevitable. Now we’ve done that first fucker we can breathe.
Only one show tomorrow and now the real work can begin because we know what it is and how it lands.
AlBarclay 