It was press night for The Red Shoes tonight, so free drinks and sticky sausages in The Other Place. I had family in though, so we went to The Duck where they rang time unconscionably early. Different managements give different fucks and the current management are experimenting with how few fucks they can give and still operate. “I wonder if there’s a way to change culture,” I found myself asking John Paul, about the fact that it’s the pub of choice. They have “The Actor’s Bar,” sure. Usually there’s nowhere to sit in it post show, but you are surrounded by headshots of familiar people. Largely they are made out to “Pam” who evidently was one of the past landlords that gave a fuck. The current crop are exactly the type of publicans that think actors are a bunch of ponces and resent the late night rush after the show. Surely there’s a pub that would welcome us. Changing culture takes years but it is worth considering when a place starts to be entitled.
The Dirty Duck has such a deep tradition of hosting the actors. The new management arbitrarily pulled down a load of pictures and didn’t keep them either, it seems. Binned them. Including my old movement teacher’s husband. “Surely the pictures you took down were kept – they’ll be in a box in the cellar,” I said to Ross. Ross hates actors and weirdly thinks we should tip. He’s not American fyi. “They were thrown away,” he tells me without the conviction of knowledge, but with the certainty of someone who doesn’t give a fuck. “Oh really. If you say so.” Unless he did it, I doubt it. It would be senseless and arrogant to take them down and throw them away.
There’s definitely been something at play though. Headshots have been taken down and replaced with pictures of people’s dogs. For now there’s some unpleasant twerp in charge. They would sooner honour their random shit than give a fuck about shared history. The dog thing is such a dick move. “Actors are dogs hurrhurr etc” It’s unpleasant. I wish we could all just go to The Encore instead but…
We can’t change culture. The actors will continue to go to the Duck even if the management make it clear they aren’t welcome. It’s a shame but not a surprise.
We are in tomorrow at ten anyway. It’s not yet 1am and I think I’m gonna call this an early bed. So lovely to see Rupert and Bea and Lazlo. They got it, largely. They heard it. “DEAD PEOPLE SHOULD LIE DOWN” reared its head, but only briefly – I’ve been in a room with a few corpses over the years. They take up so much more space than a prone actor trying not to move. Let’s look at that for a change, even if IT’S NOT NORMAL. We sing the death. It’s pretty clear, if theatrical, that the character has karked it. And then they stand and watch. If you can’t cope with it that’s your stuff not ours.
Bed… Tomorrow is an important day for a new member of our company. One woman will be signing THE WHOLE PLAY very soon. We are encouraged to incorporate her. She gets very few rehearsals, so even if we swear about the lot of us being called at ten even if we’re only in the second half, I can see how it must be a total headfuck for her. I’m happy to lose my sleep to help. Not super happy. But happy enough. So long as I can get to sleep in the next half hour. *looks around for the actifed*
AlBarclay 