Thursday, November 27, 2008

So I ran straight from a day with IRN-BRU to the office to the theatre to watch a play in which a man swilled vodka (or gin) from a glass bottle of IRN-BRU last night. It was a neat symmetry. Then I ran home to dine on bombay mix and Pringles. Classy.

Anyway, the play was brilliant. Nobody Will Ever Forgive Us was indeed dark, as one of my clients rightly observed. But very funny in that brilliantly dark way which I particularly love. Beautifully acted. Dear John Tiffany. I wish I could become his disciple. And brilliantly written. Bastard brilliant actor Paul Higgins turned 'just to see if I could do it' writer. And I spent the first half thinking the father reminded me of a friend's father only to realise when I bought the programme that in fact, he was the father in Billy Elliot. That stupid phenomena where you think you know someone that you've only actually ever seen on TV. Anyway, this aside, he was magic.

The audience were delightfully delighted by it. And from the sounds of the subsequent Q&A, they'd had a house full of the half dead the night before so I expect they doubled their efforts in relief. But it is well worth seeking out. If only for the title. Oh and it's in the round in Trav One which is worth seeing too. On til Saturday.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

I feel like a bad neglectful mother.

Mind you, I'm about to desert my desk for a theatre trip so I can't be working that hard...

Thursday, November 20, 2008


In the name of indecision, stick to what you fancy even if it isn't the wisest (most winning) choice.

Months ago, faithful readers may remember I read Mr McDonagh's Pillowman and loved it much. So I dug it out at the weekend for a re-read. Of course it's a bit long and the SCDA might take objection to the child cruxifixion scene given their alarming warning posters slapped all around Kelso when we approached bearing 4:48 Psychosis.

But maybe the first scene of this could be a worthy one act entry. I took heart from the fact that someone had tried to present this - and this scene only - to the Fringe audience in the summer. Though perhaps I shoudn't take heart as when it came to the crunch, the production did not go ahead.

So I have approached Mr French, having approached Rod Hall the agent themselves months back out of curiosity. And shall await their verdict. Did the aforementioned group withdraw from the Fringe because they hadn't sought permission and were refused? Or was it altogether more innocent reasons that led to their demise?

For those who may be interested, the first scene features 3 characters. All boys. The writer was played by David Tennant when it premiered in 2003. Someone else very respectable (and a bit older) played one of the police interrogating men. And I have no idea who the guy playing the other interrogator's part was. But they're three cracking parts. A little violence is called for. The policemen type people (though are they?) are investigating the horrific murders of two tiny children and a third has gone missing.

I haven't ventured into murder / thriller / blood-soaked territory at all yet. I would be curious to see how I would fare. So we shall see.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

So. Five minutes between focus groups in Dundee. I narrowed down my shortlist of one acts to three.

Bedbound would be my dream play. The Enda Walsh tale of misery in a bed. But it would be almost impossible to cast. Accents would be a nightmare. The set would be far too expensive for a festival and I won't be indulgent. So that is scored from the list.

Then there's 100. Written by a collective, won a Fringe First in 2003, cast of five so manageable, quite physical theatre-ish so a challenge, requires Ketu, a man from a jungle bound cut off from civilisation tribe so slightly harder to procure in nice middle class Edinburgh but surely we shouldn't let things like that stop us, some nice parts for actors, not too much vile language and no paedophilia, no set so cheap, could do some nice lights so might get JGH on side and a half interesting, half meaningful plot so half interesting for this director.

Or Night Errant which is a farce, early 1900s, Feydeau and a beautifully typical farce with a line about breasts like a coat hanger that for some reason, particularly amuses me. Cast of three or possibly four. No obscure tribesmen needed. Though it does need a Louis XIVth costume which could be as hard to come by as a tribesman. Needs also a beautiful box set which will struggle in the ten minute set up five minute strike time and will be costly and time-consuming. Ideally a whole bunch of other beautiful early twentieth century French costumes too. Funny. Very standard SCDA fare.


Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Poor blog. I've been neglectful but it's mayhem at work. I shall attend to it post-haste.

Friday, November 14, 2008

And oh. I wish I wasn't back.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Ok, yes, so suddenly I see everyone's point!
We made a tremendous profit on Twelfth Night.

An almost unprecedented success.

Hats off to all those involved!