by Antony Sher
So now all the lines are learned. Roughly.
Friday 18 May
RICHARD AND BUCKINGHAM Bill, Mal and I spend the evening on the various sequences that make up this relationship. A marvellous relaxed evening, like old times with old friends.
All three of us have, I think, been behaving rather untypically in front of the new Company. Tension, I suppose. Bill and I have been sniping at one another, increasingly irritated by one another's weaknesses which we know all too well; Mal still tends to go into his aggressive silences.
But left on our own tonight, all of that disappears. Bill rushes around peering through an imaginary viewfinder and getting it wrong - holding it up to the closed eye - like he did in the telly rehearsals at Acton. Mal plays Buckingham very camp, flouncing around with hands propped high on his rib cage. It is an awesome sight - a camp Viking. I just stand there and laugh.
Good discovery for the Baynard's Castle scene: with the gentlest re-arranging of lines we contrive to bring Richard down from that upper window and hence break up the static nature of the scene. That's been one of the most cumbersome factors - Buckingham having to deliver his long speeches to a man behind and above him. Now Richard can be on stage level with the mayor and aldermen. This would also seem an ideal opportunity for him to function without his crutches for a while - increase his impression of harmlessness, vulnerability.
A R D E N HOTEL BAR Mal relates an interesting historical fact dug up in Henry V rehearsals: the two-fingered sod-off sign comes from Agincourt. The French, certain of victory, had threatened to cut off the bow-fingers of all the English archers. When the English were victorious, the archers held up their fingers in defiance.
This could be useful. The other day, rehearsing the `Was ever woman' speech, Alison Sutcliffe suggested I count the pros and cons on my fingers to emphasise the audacity of what Richard has managed to pull off. He only had two things going for him and they're ironic ('And I no friends to back my suit at all but the plain devil and dissembling looks') so the idea was for him to use two fingers in a V-sign. Until tonight, I had dismissed the idea as being too modern.
Saturday i9.4Iay
My favourite part of the day is the drive into Stratford. As you come up out of Chipping Campden you go over the brow of a hill. It's so beautiful I always risk crashing at this point, particularly as I try to time putting in the cassette at this moment. Today it is Delius. The world below is particularly spectacular this morning. The fields of rape - I will never tire of trying to describe them - are the gold at the end of the rainbow. The car roof open, a warm breeze blowing, a taste of summer, the magnificent copper beeches, white and red fruit blossoms.
PRINCES SCENE Richard and Buckingham's double-act at its most sublime. Richard sits back and lets Buckingham deal with each problem as it comes up - the Queen taking sanctuary, the boys' questions about Caesar, the interrogation of Catesby. Mal says, `You keep passing the Buck and I'll supply the Ham.'
Lunchtime. I find Black Mac standing on the balcony overlooking the river, in fearsome mood. As someone passes us, he mutters, `Thick as a Gurkha's foreskin, him.' And someone else is cursed from behind with a deadly `Kipper!'
`Why Kipper, ,Mac
`Two faces and no guts, mate.'
Apparently the cause of this dark mood is the news that he might not be allowed to dress me. He's not normally a `Mark One' dresser and his promotion is being opposed in certain quarters. `Won't happen, mate,' he says looking mournfully into the Avon, `won't happen till the Good Lord lays down his crook and fucks his flock.'
I tell him that the official explanation they've given me is that his daytime army job will prevent him being available for the crucial days of the technical and dress rehearsals. This is news to him and fills him with renewed determination: `Righto mate. If that's their game, leave it to me. You want me, Animil, and I'm gonna be there!'
The afternoon is spent wandering around the darkening Conference Hall hammering in those `hath's and `thee's while thumping a rubber ball around, in the same way that I used to study for exams at school. Merchant is distantly on the tannoy. The applause at the end sends a tingle of excitement up my spine.
I think Richard is coming together. The major problem at the moment is a commonplace one - the effort of learning. It's the same when you approach any new skill or technique, from a dance step to driving a car. The effort of learning stops you, at first, from doing it well.
As for the crutches, Bill was right. They are easier to work with after a further week's practice. I have mustered my courage: I am going to use them.
Sunday 20 May
Tonight was the first time I couldn't get to sleep for excitement, rather than fear.
Monday 2I May
Three weeks to go.
Richard's army has grown. Paul Gregory, Brian Parr and Hepburn Graham have been press-ganged. My troops now number seven. We might win Bosworth at this rate.
RUN-THROUGH OF ACTS FOUR AND FIVE I shout far too much and give myself nowhere to go. Jim says afterwards, `I feared for your voice and I mustn't.' Chris Ravenscroft (Richmond) has a beautiful spiritual quality. He fulfils perfectly the function of this character, in Bill's words, `a breath of fresh air after hours of murder, mayhem and misery'.
At the end of the run Bill makes a very inspiring impromptu speech about Shakespeare. He's kneeling on the floor, his eyes very bright.
`The verse, breathing through you via the character to us, is in itself thrilling. It is seventy-five per cent of what this Company is about. It is our instrument and our challenge. It would be so easy if we were Russians and could have the verse roughly translated and then dazzle with images. We've got to dazzle with Shakespeare's language.'
The crutches that I will use in the show have arrived - magnificently sculpted in iron to look like twisted wood, vaguely Arthur Rackham. The new weight is a shock. Light gestures become heavy, my speed around the room is halved. They are sent back for a re-think. I fear they will be unusable.
Tuesday 22 May
Heavy rain; a bad day. We do runs of the Queen Margaret scene and Act Two. All dreadful again. One long monotonous note of hysteria.
Ciss says afterwards, `People have less emotions than actors think they have. For much of the time we hide our emotions, we haven't time for emotions. Our brains work so much faster than our emotions.'
Anyway all our emoting can't be right: these characters are tougher than that, they've been through decades of Civil War.
SONNET C L A s s A full Company workshop like this is a mirror - we can see ourselves, what this year's Company looks like, and the reflection today is not yet a flattering one. There's an air of cynicism and competitiveness, or else a lack of interest. One or two of the younger actors actually sit with their backs to Ciss, ignoring the class completely. Are they crazy? We're being paid for the privilege of being taught by her.
We get into a long and difficult discussion about the official R S C policy towards verse-speaking. Both Ciss and Bill refuse to be drawn. Bill says, `It's like the English Constitution - there isn't one.'
At lunch Frances Tomelty asks Ciss why, in these group sessions, she doesn't just tell people to shut up and stop farting around.
Ciss goes very quiet, very focused. One of those really long pauses when you think you've offended her terribly. At last she says, `Sorry darling, I'm just trying to think it through ... I think, what it is ... is that people must find their own way. Reach their own conclusions.' The essence of good teaching.
Down at the other end of the canteen, Harold Innocent is still demanding a definition of verse-speaking policy.
Pat Routledge says, `There isn't one. Be told! We find our own way. It's an adventure.'
Harold: `It's an adventure to jump in the river, but one might drown.'
Pat: `If you start to drown my love, you will be thrown the prettiest waterwings the R S C can afford.'
They do tend to fence like this, these two, each giving as good as they get.
Harold: `No I don't. I like it up here.'
QUEEN ELIZABETH SCENE Another bad rehearsal. It's one of those days. We had really cracked this scene the last time we did it, but now Frances heads off in strange new directions.
Bill says, `With every scene there are dozens of choices of how to play it. Unless we select one and stick to it until proven wrong, we will just flounder in chaos.'
The scene is extremely tricky for Queen Elizabeth. She has, apparently, to be won over by this man who's murdered her children, her brothers and, indirectly, her husband. She wouldn't even remain in the same room as him! Frances believes the answer is to become possessed by the devil. Which is why, today, it's like something out of Hammer Horror. I believe it's more chilling if the characters remain human. (I've bought the Sutcliffe book and am reading it at every possible opportunity.)
Wednesday 23 May
QUEEN MARGARET SCENE All morning spent on this. Unravelling, disciplining, simplifying and, best of all, cutting - immediately makes it easier to play.
One of the problems had been that the climax seems to be the confrontation between Margaret and Richard. Yet after this, Shakespeare has her cursing the others again. Most of this stuff gets cut. Pat loses a lot but takes it well and with good humour.
As he's racing against time with the morning schedule, Bill says to her, `Let's just try to get to your exit Pat, get you off.'
She says, `Yes please. I can imagine someone in the front row saying, "Dear oh dear, I thought she'd never go." '
She needn't worry. Her Margaret will be striking and original.
RUN-THROUGH OF ACT ONE Still the most difficult Act for me. And the thought of having to do that opening speech in front of the Company for the first time ... oh God. Just before we start, I feel the fear, like a raging distant storm. I turn my back on it.
` "Now is the winter ..." '
The run is thrilling. So many things fall into place for me. Richard's soliloquies and asides, which have seemed both bland and embarrassing in solus sessions, are actually enjoyable to do now. An audience at last - people to tell the story to. Get some encouraging laughs from the assembled cast and at other times the silences are palpable. (Contrary to popular belief in the profession, I feel that rehearsal laughs can be a useful guideline.)
Afterwards, Frances is very encouraging and Blessed does his wonderful machine-gun support: `Bravo, 'kin marvellous, very exciting, very original, going to be sensational, 'kin terrific . . .' One or two other people pat my shoulder, compliment me on clarity and above all, speed.
If nothing else, mine will be the fastest Richard ever.
A R D E N HOTEL BAR Notes from Bill. He says, `You can get some idea from today of the size of the part. That was only Act One. You have four to go. You will have to pace yourself very carefully. I would say from today's run you are still doing far too much, showing us too much too soon.'
Mal says, `What was great about today's run is that you were serving the text and not doing a big number on it.'
The evening ends with Mal and me imploring Bill to cut more, and Bill staring glassily into the middle distance.
But we are in with a chance.
Thursday 24 May
A new confidence. It has become clear that Richard needs a basic neutrality, so that he can slip into his various acts without arousing disbelief from the other characters. Richard the actor is most important now, or more accurately, Richard the psychopath (the Sutcliffe book is proving invaluable).
My only secret worry is the mysterious problem with lines. In the flow of yesterday's run, they were mostly there. Or, at any rate, I could keep going on the rhythm of the verse, substituting synonyms when the actual words didn't spring to mind - Gielgud has said this is one of the pleasures of playing Shakespeare; nobody understands what you're saying so you can make it up when you forget - but today I'm drying and fluffing all over the place. For the first time I understand why older actors become so neurotic about their failing powers of memory. Each time I have to take a prompt it feels like a tiny humiliation.
Friday 25 May
RUN -THROUGH O F ACT THREE Again it is thrilling. Much laughter. But when it comes to the Baynard's Castle scene - which, comically, should be the high spot - the laughter stops dead. I'm confused about this. On the one hand, it's all right if the scene isn't funny - after all, the Crown of England is at stake. On the other hand, the laughter up until this point came out of Richard's outrageous manipulations - in which case, this scene should be a scream.
QUEEN ELIZABETH SCENE Scholars have puzzled over the outcome of this scene for centuries. Elizabeth doesn't actually consent to the marriage between Richard and her daughter. All she says is, `Write to me very shortly, and you shall understand from me her mind.' This could be played as `yes', `no' or `maybe'. Bill is very keen that it should be `Yes, absolutely!'
Why does he have to write, when it's her answer he requires? What does she want him to write anyway? Does she want a postcard from Bosworth?
Bill says, `She's just being very feminine. In one's youth one was always being plagued by women who wouldn't phone you until you'd phoned them.'
Frances's feminist hackles rise: `How could you have been plagued by women who didn't phone?' The other women in the rehearsal room lean forward, Alison Sutcliffe, AS M Bridgette McManagan. Bill just blushes and grins sheepishly. Alert over. There is no sport here: he is the gentlest of men.
This leads to an interesting discussion about Richard's sexuality; Frances feels that this is what could win Elizabeth over in the end. Bill and I both feel Richard is probably asexual - can't or doesn't do it. Frances says to me, `Well, watching you in the runs, Richard is very animal, which, I'm afraid, is rather sexy.' The old refrain -'How many severely deformed people are regarded as sex symbols?' Bill says, `It's all right as long as we can always see that he uses sex as just another weapon. One mustn't think that intercourse with this man would be champagne and Bolero. It would be the most savage, violent experience.'
We do the scene and Frances plays it beautifully again, the undisciplined chaos of the other day gone. Her need for Richard becomes rather moving. As Frances says, Elizabeth has lost everything, at least Richard represents a life-force, an energy, however twisted.
Saturday 26 May
CONFERENCE HALL Another Saturday afternoon in here, the light fading, rain on the skylights, Henry Von the tannoy. Jim takes me through the whole part, carefully listing each dry and fluff so that I can entrap them at last.
The new crutches arrive; knobbly wooden walking-sticks set into the iron tops. Although these are much lighter, there is a new confusing balance - iron at the top, wood below. I realise that Charlotte's old NHS crutches (battered and twisted after weeks of rehearsals) have become, without my noticing, the extra limbs we talked about. It's too late to change to anything else now.
I ring Bill A. who has retired for the weekend. Without hesitation he comes back to the theatre so we can sort out this nagging problem. Even if the NHS crutches are covered and disguised they will never have the gnarled and tapered look we imagine, or indeed the sound of wood. But he agrees we will have to use them in the show itself. Simply by living on them for five weeks, they are part of me now - with them I can turn on a sixpence and dance the old fandango. I think that if you pricked them they'd probably bleed.
Dying for a cigarette tonight. It's been seven weeks without one.
Sunday 27 May
JULIA'S COTTAGE Quiet, drizzly day.
Finish the Sutcliffe book. It's quite brilliant, written from a startling original viewpoint. There is hardly any violence or gore. What shocks you is the domesticity of it all. For example, after he is caught, his sister Jane has a recurring nightmare. He is handcuffed to her and has to accompany her everywhere. Then suddenly the handcuffs fall off and he says, `I've got to do it again.' She wakes screaming. Your own brother - a nightmare creature. So Sutcliffe is
demystified as a monster. He is `somebody's husband, somebody's son' (the police's phrase used when they were frantically searching the country for that needle in a haystack) and Gordon Burn shows that it's so easy to overlook or excuse bizarre behaviour if it's someone close to you.
Nevertheless, towards the end, there is a growing sense among some of those around him that he might be the Ripper. And perhaps even a feeling in him that the end is coming. Wanting it to come? He cries suddenly towards the end. Like Richard, the frightened self breaking through.
Two quotations are interesting. One of his brothers on what he thought the Ripper might be like: `I imagined him to be an ugly hunchback wi' boils all over his face, somebody who couldn't get women and resented them for that. Somebody with totally nothing going for him.' And a description at the trial: `His face, even when discussing the most sordid details of his crimes, seemed constantly to flirt with the idea of a smile.'
This is the aspect of Richard that I have resisted most, the `chuckling pleasure' Stopford A. Brooke referred to, with its melodramatic connotations. Yet the characteristic everyone remembers about Sutcliffe is a high-pitched giggle. So, perhaps a sense of pleasure then, a sense of delight ... a sense of humour.
I've been quoting the book constantly in rehearsals. Some members of the cast have stated their disapproval that it should even have been written. Some of the women have expressed more - disgust and anger. What are they saying? They'd prefer not to know, not to understand? They'd prefer certain areas of life to be censored? Isn't that partly what breeds the Sutcliffes and the Nilsens?