VIKING (Director)
Viking’s hysteria is worsening. I don’t remember him ever being this wild and angry during Oliver. It becomes very difficult to act confidently when you’re terrified of the hot hairdryer screaming in your face. He also terrifies the girls, many of whom have been rumoured to be on the verge of quitting the play altogether. At fifty years of age it’s probably a bit late to teach him that you don’t have to shout at people to get your point across. 3/10 (Three points deducted for excessive ranting and raving)
Brenda and Penny didn’t warrant a rating as the fairies because all they do is flit around speaking in high-pitched singsong voices, which is exactly what they do all day in the common room anyway.
Wednesday 16th September
Grand Opening of A Midsummer Night’s Dream
It’s a vicious circle. You can’t sleep because you’re nervous and excited. The more you can’t sleep the more you panic because you aren’t sleeping in the first place, and the more you panic the longer you can’t sleep which then creates more panic and less sleep.
05:00 Vern wasn’t in bed. After five minutes of waiting I began to grow concerned that the cretin had made a break for it. It wouldn’t go beyond the realm of reason to think that Rain Man could disappear into hiding and derail the mechanicals’ scenes and thus the play. Suddenly I was full of rage that Vern could ruin months of hard work and quite possibly an important stepping-stone in my theatrical career. After all, as The Guv always says, ‘this world is quite simply divided into those that have played the bard and those that haven’t’.
I hurled back the duvet and marched into the common room and was relieved to find Vern standing at the window staring out at the first streaks of the morning while sipping away at a mug of hot water. He didn’t seem to notice me and continued to be mesmerised by the view from the window.
I asked him what he was doing and he replied, ‘Thinking.’
This isn’t a good sign at all.
6:10 Boggo shook his head in disgust. ‘Appalling casting,’ he said. ‘Viking must have been mad to think he could pull it off.’
Fatty and Penny agreed, and said that Vern was certain to have some sort of freak out.
‘My oath to God, he’s like the worst upstager in the world,’ said Boggo, trying to fish something out of his tea. Fatty nodded seriously and said, ‘He can’t go like two minutes without scratching his balls or pulling hair out of his head.’
‘Ja,’ added Boggo looking terribly wounded, ‘and it’s always on my best lines.’
‘Vern’s retarded,’ said Penny rather loudly but without elaborating. We all fell into a deep silence and considered the possibilities of what might go wrong with Vern tonight.
‘I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,’ said Fatty, hauling himself up from the chair and following Penny out of the common room.
PM Couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the play. Grew increasingly terrified as the day wore on and developed a possible intestinal problem.
18:30 Viking delivered a long and inspiring final speech about how his work was now done and how it was all up to us from now on. He told us to enjoy it, and to forget about trying to get it right and instead advised that we should lose ourselves in the moment and express ourselves as actors. Unfortunately, he then said he would be watching us like a hawk and would destroy anyone who dropped the pace.
He concluded with, ‘Remember this is a privilege and tonight is a christening. Enjoy, relish, and keep that bloody pace up!’
19:30 Nervous energy was crashing off the walls. Dressed in our workmen’s uniforms, the mechanicals paced around the tiny dressing room mumbling our lines to ourselves. Boggo looked genuinely terrified and publicly vowed that he would never do this to himself again. Vern locked himself in the bogs where loud and disturbing muttering was heard. Every five minutes or so a loud voice would blurt out of the tannoy system. 30 minute call, 25 minute call, 20 minute call …
19:50 Vern still in the bogs and refusing to come out despite Boggo banging on the door and pretending to have the runs. By now my nerves were shot and questions swirled around my disordered mind. Firstly, what happens if the audience is completely freaked out by Vern and nobody laughs at our scenes at all? Secondly, what happens if Vern gets freaked out by the audience? Then a nasty third question popped into my head. What happens if my Thisby voice is met with the chirping of crickets? And then the fourth and worst question: what if I walk out there and realise that I’m not good enough and never will be?
19:55 ‘My dear Gentles!’ began The Guv as our beginners’ call blasted through the tannoy. ‘We have come to make the commoners laugh, and so we shall. Fear not the fiery devil of failure, for tonight he shall return unto the Bard what is rightfully his!’ There was a snap from the lock of the bathroom door and a hesitant figure with demented eyes staggered out as white as a sheet.
We followed The Guv into the wings where we watched the curtain open and our play begin. The theatre was packed and the audience felt warm and friendly and seemed to be listening carefully to the opening scene. Boggo was shifting from foot to foot and kept opening and closing his scroll to check his lines. My hands shook terribly, as did my knees and just about anything that wasn’t completely attached to my body.
‘We’re on,’ whispered The Guv. ‘May God help us all.’ And he marched out into the bright gleam of the footlights with us trailing along behind.
The school went berserk when the mechanicals filed on. We hadn’t said a single word, but the laughter seemed to roll on for minutes. We had to wait and wait and wait for that first line. Not sure if they thought we just looked funny in our costumes, or whether it was The Guv, or even Fatty or Vern that set them off, but either way it felt like the worst was over.
Then Boggo opened up his scroll and promptly turned pale. His eyes darted around the page looking for the correct line. Then he snapped the scroll shut and shouted his first line with a spectacular knackjump. Fatty turned his face away from the stage and his shoulders bobbed up and down. I bit my lip and screamed in my head to stay professional. Then The Guv opened his mouth and the audience roared again. Vern suddenly sneezed loudly and the audience nearly wet themselves, especially after he sauntered off stage and then returned some seconds later with a handkerchief. This obviously happened in the middle of Boggo’s first major speech so everything he said was drowned out by the hysteria.
Soon the problem was no longer enough laughter, but rather too much laughter. We struggled on and forced our way through the scene although most of the lines including mine were inaudible. The only thing to be done was to scream out your lines above the din of three hundred junior girls all shrieking with laughter and giggling hysterically. Eventually, the lights faded to blackout. I scurried off into the wings and collided with Spike who was marching on at the same time. I staggered to my feet and limped back to the dressing room where wild hugs and high fives were taking place.
‘We’re gonna be famous!’ trumpeted Boggo. ‘How easy was that?’
The second scene was just as chaotic as the first. One got the feeling that the audience were just waiting for the mechanicals to return, because they burst into loud applause and laughter when the lights came up for Act III Scene 1. Vern bowed self-consciously when he heard the laughter and three hundred girls went ballistic again.
During the play within the play scene, a girl in the front row broke her chair from laughing so hard and was forced to sit in the aisle. Unfortunately, the chair breaking caused further shrieking. It happened as I was galloping around as Thisby with Vern/Lion bounding after me on all fours and growling like a deranged house cat.
The audience raised the roof when the mechanicals came on for the curtain call. They all stood up when The Guv took his final bow.
Standing ovation!
‘Now that is Shakespeare!’ shouted The Guv raucously in the wings as he gave me a thump on the shoulder. Everyone was manic and throwing their arms around everybody else. I
even found VPH wrapped around me for a very sexy second and a half.
Viking burst through the crimson curtains looking wild and savage. His eyes fixed on us like an immense explosion was imminent. Then his face broke into a grin, and a great rasping laugh escaped his lips. Viking was not only smiling, but he was laughing like a madman – it was like seeing two rainbows at once.
Then Viking and The Guv were hugging and dancing on the spot at the same time.
‘It’s beautiful!’ Viking shouted. He pointed his finger at Vern and roared, ‘You, sir, are a revelation!’ Vern blushed and looked at his feet. Then he grinned deviously and slunk behind the curtains.
‘Wonderful!’ boomed Viking.
‘Your best ever, Victor!’ hailed The Guv and thumped Viking on the back.
I strode back to the house before the others. I didn’t feel like flirting and spading girls in the remote hope that one of them will suddenly find me attractive.
Ambling along the path in the clear moonless light, I knew for sure that I could never do anything else and be truly happy again. It’s a drug, and I already want my next fix.
Thursday 17th September
Another rip-roaring performance, this time for the senior girls. Tonight I felt more in control and began anticipating the laughs before they happened. The only disaster was when Rambo intentionally switched Boggo’s crib scroll with another identical one shortly before curtain up.
Boggo only noticed the problem as we were about to stride onto the stage for our first scene. Without his secret weapon, he fell apart at the seams and had about three blank outs, during which he repeatedly opened up his scroll as if hoping that the lines might magically reappear. The awkward pauses didn’t make any difference, because The Guv jumped in and said all of Boggo’s lines and his own without it sounding strange. The audience were watching Vern anyway.
Rambo thought his practical joke was the most hilarious thing ever, as did the giggling VPH who stood in the wings massaging his neck from behind. Sometimes it’s difficult not to be jealous.
Friday 18th September
6:00 ‘There’s a review in the newspaper!’ shouted Brenda through my door like the house was on fire. I heard doors opening and closing and the sound of scampering feet and anxious voices. On the coffee table lay the paper with a picture of Rambo and VPH leaning seductively against a tree.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
(Wrexham School Production)
Director Victor Richardson
Fun Filled School Shakespearian Romp!
The new Wrexham College Trinity Theatre is at last up and running and open for business. The elite girls’ college has enlisted the help of boys from Kings College (?) to fill in the masculine gaps where needed. Veteran school theatre director, Victor Richardson, who has coaxed some wonderful performances out of a young and exuberant cast, directs this lively production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. As much as it is a Wrexham production, it is alas stolen from under the girls’ noses by some charming and evocative portrayals from many of the boys.
It is, however, Charles Edly (Bottom) who is the greatest scene stealer. His timing is exquisite and with a pitch-perfect accent, he is a constant joy to watch. In fact, his scenes with the rude mechanicals had this reviewer and many others on the opening night writhing in hysteria. One wonders why he’s never turned his hand to performing at a higher level?
If there were a criticism it would lie with the lovers’ scenes, which often seemed to sag despite the best efforts of Renton Pike, who looks a good bet for the future. The stunning Victoria Perez Hamilton (Titania) probably just shades Robert Black’s Oberon by a whisker although Black makes for a forceful presence on stage with his brooding dark looks and villainous face.
Many on opening night felt that Richard Smith’s performance as Puck was a little strident and laboured, although this was countered by the wonderful energy and vitality of Leanne Fourie (Cobweb).
And finally those mechanicals … who make the show a must-see for any lover of Shakespearian slapstick comedy. Often it is difficult to know where the acting ends and the real character begins. This said, however, these lads are a true joy to behold and superbly cast. Perhaps it is the powerful influence of Edly, but the mechanicals demonstrated a lust for their work unseen in many so young. Of the rude mechanicals, the standout was Vern Blackadder who may well be South Africa’s answer to Charlie Chaplin. His performance of Snug/Lion was continually fluid and ever present in the moment. His choice of turning Snug into a deranged misfit, gave great depth and balance to the group dynamic. Others to catch the eye were John Milton, whose high falsetto voiced Thisby proved a constant delight to the young ladies in the audience; and Alan Greenstein.
A final mention goes to Peta Cramb for superb and authentic costumes used in the production. Whilst the set may have been suggestive rather than realistic, Cramb’s insightful use of colour more than made up for this deficit. A highlight was the incredibly realistic fat suit worn by Sidney Smitherson-Scott (Wall). Hats off to Smitherson-Scott for carrying around such a huge bulk in such a convincing fashion.
There is something refreshing about this production and it is certainly worth a visit if only for the hilarious mechanicals’ scenes.
Performances tonight and tomorrow at 20:00. Saturday’s performance will be preceded by the official dedication of the Wrexham Trinity Theatre and a brief cocktail party during which no alcohol will be served. For bookings and further details, call Wrexham College direct. (Regret cash only)
James Camp
Natal Witness Reviewer
My first review! And it’s a good one. Rambo said that the theatre critic was clearly incompetent because not only had he called us Kings College but he also had no appreciation for subtle Shakespearian performances. I must admit, calling us Kings College is a bit of a blunder, but one should never expect too much from the Natal Witness.
Today I carried myself around the school like I was a higher life form. It’s certainly worth trying, if only to better understand Rambo. Unfortunately, nobody outside of the cast made any mention of the brilliant theatre review, although just about every younger girl I passed swivelled her head as I walked by. This is obviously how Jack Nicholson feels 24/7.
22:30 The folks watched the show tonight. Mom said it was delightful but Dad was less impressed and seemed to have been awake only when VPH was onstage. They both said I was brilliant but that I shouldn’t get carried away with ‘the acting thing’.
Another high quality show from the working actor. It’s all ending too fast.
Saturday 19th September
Final Performance
In typical Wrexham killjoy form, there will be no cast party after tonight’s performance. Thankfully, Geoff has come to the rescue and The Guv and Viking have negotiated the use of the Wrexham minibuses to ferry the cast up for a day-long celebration at Lawson’s farm on Sunday.
18:00 ‘What am I gonna do, Spuddy?’ asked Fatty looking terribly upset. Once again he had dragged me into the garden behind the theatre. It was on the same bench as our previous meeting, although this time Fatty was too agitated to sit.
‘I still haven’t kissed Penny and like tonight’s the final night,’ he said with twitchy eyes. ‘I’ve been trying to kiss her all week but it hasn’t been working out.’
I asked Fatty what technique he had been adopting.
‘The one from the movies,’ he said. ‘You know … like when you get in really close to her face and then both your heads like slide slowly together until you kiss.’
‘Maybe it’s your breath,’ I suggested.
‘Nought,’ replied Fatty. ‘I’ve been chewing Beechies non stop for a week.’
We fell into a thoughtful silence. Then Fatty said, ‘Brenda keeps asking me when I’m going to make my move, and I’m getting nervous and stuff.’
I nodded with an understanding expression but Fatty set off again. ‘I was planning to do it at the after-party, but now that’s cancelled and it’s
like blind to do it in the daytime tomorrow when everyone’s around.’
‘Okay, this is what you do,’ I said and I outlined an impressive battle plan for Fatty. He listened intently and repeated everything I said. Once I was finished he asked, ‘What happens if she says no?’
‘She won’t,’ I said. ‘I promise.’
‘Thanks, Spud. Wish me luck,’ he said, taking a deep breath.
‘Break a leg,’ I said, and returned to the theatre, to find the female cast in uproar because Rambo had just dumped Victoria Perez Hamilton in her dressing room.
What an idiot.
22:45 The final night wasn’t anything like Oliver. I suppose nothing ever will be. Just like nothing will probably be as momentous and intimidating as my first year at boarding school. The show went by like lightning. One minute I was wishing everyone well for the performance, and the next I was bowing my head to the roaring crowd for the final time. The great red curtain swooped across the stage and it was over.
The mostly adult audience loved it as much as the girls did, and the headmistress soon arrived backstage and said it was the best school play she had ever seen. We all packed up our props and hung up our costumes. Then, under the withering gaze of Mr Owen, we headed sadly back to the house.
23:00 So that’s that. Hundreds and hundreds of hours spent on perfecting a mere two. It hardly seems fair that we will never do this again. All that’s left is a collection of moments and memories, some of which I have captured, and others that have slipped through the net and will no doubt be forgotten. That thought still kills me.
A great depression has descended as I lie in bed writing this. It’s like a flame has been doused and the colour and light is gone. I thought about home and the holidays, and I didn’t feel excited. I thought about going back to school for the final term, and I felt anxious. I then pondered being completely free and roaming around the countryside like Jack Kerouac. Even that felt empty and uncertain. I pulled the duvet over my chin, closed my eyes and waited for sleep to take me somewhere better.
Spud - Learning to Fly Page 28