"It's a girl..."

While Theatre Royal Bath usually stages scripted plays, Bristol Old Vic recently has been going for adaptations of familiar tales: Great Expectations followed by The Little Mermaid and now, most ambitious of all, a 2-part version of Charlotte Bronte's classic Jane Eyre.  Seeing the whole thing takes over 8 hours if you go for matinee and evening performance, which is what Rosie and I did, using the break for tapas at our favourite dockside bar El Puerto. This double-production has had cracking reviews and so it should: for sheer theatricality as well as gripping story-telling. Director Sally Cookson has created something thrilling from this familiar story steeped in social history, finding strands of early feminism and egalitarianism in Jane's struggles but more importantly presenting her story dramatically, using music, physicality, and humour as well as speech and symbolism. Indeed, though the sparky interactions between Jane and Mr Rochester are great, most of my enjoyment came not from dialogue or plot but from imaginative staging: marvellous coach-rides jogged by the cast, Pilot the dog stealing each scene he bounded into, the haunting flame of mad Bertha's song...  My only reservation was the set which while commendably allowing for 3-dimensional action looks disconcertingly like a massive mismade Ikea flatpack but I loved the indigo costumes and the lighting. The multi-tasking cast of ten ~ including the brilliant musicians ~ are all engaging, with Craig Edwards and Felix Hayes outstanding.  If you're a Brontë fan you've probably already seen it: if not, you've got until the end of the month. 

"The weirdest art form ever created"

Philip Ridley is a highly acclaimed young playwright and this Supporting Wall production of Dark Vanilla Jungle won awards and garlands of stars for performance last year in Edinburgh so, as this tour included Bristol's Brewery, this was a must-see for me. "A beautiful, breathtaking new drama about one girl’s craving for family and home… and the lengths she’ll go to achieve them," is the flyer summary, and there's not much more to be said about her story without making this monologue sound bleak, which it is not. It's vividly rich in imagination and language, startlingly poetic and from time to time darkly funny. From an empty stage, Andrea advances to 'tell the truth', starting with a wasp sting.  It's about being groomed and commodification of women and the invisibility of lost children in problem families, but the telling is as far from 'worthy' as a Shakespeare. Gemma Whelan's Andrea is utterly mesmerising, embodying her story as both child and teenager, evoking tenderness, passion, panic and fury as innocence is dragged from her and longings for love disintegrate. Contemporary realism and fantasy of mythic promotion merge in this masterly must-see play, which is in Bristol till 22nd March and then goes on to Soho Theatre. Fantastic script, utterly fabulous performance. And next time someone swears at you in the street remember, as Plato first said, they may be fighting a battle you know nothing about.

The Big Meal, the first of three plays in the new Theatre Royal Bath American season at Ustinov Studio Bath, is a 90-minute time-lapse study of the 80-year relationship of a couple who meet in a restaurant, moving from flirting to intimacy in moments, followed swiftly by hatches, mismatches, and dispatches through three generations. Writer Dan LeFranc knows his settings well so in one sense the story is realistic, but he believes playwrights should explore obsessions, quirks and nightmares, mining the strangest, truest parts of yourself...  the play is the weirdest art form ever created.  This one is certainly quirky. It's directed by Michael Boyd and the roles are played progressively by an excellent cast of eight, with Diana Quick and Keith Bartlett particularly impressive. As you'd expect the focus is on meal times: events are mostly uber-normal but clever compression of timescale and sharp script give plenty of food for thought as well as a lingering taste of poignancy. Expect also a lot of shouting, and an unexpected dramatic device that I can't spoiler-reveal, but it's very effective.  The Big Meal is on in Bath till 5th April and then goes to co-producers High Tide Festival in Suffolk from 10th-19th April.

Studying to compare this prison to the world...

I’m not familiar with King John, but despite his script being edited down to 70 minutes I'm sure the bard would have no complaints about Hammerpuzzle's version at The Egg as part of Theatre Royal Bath’s Shakespeare Unplugged month. It's a kind of Shakespeare sampler, with tasters of crazy ranting, thrilling soliloquies, star-crossed young love, murderous ambition and poisonous come-uppance, even cross-gartering. And there's lively comedy and live music,and above all absolute clarity of storytelling. Director Bryn Holding retains the timeless quality of this historic tale while highlighting contemporary elements like Philip the Bastard's railing against “Commodity, the bias of the world”. The cast are fantastic in multiple roles, doing full justice to an emotional range from maternal frenzy to the still, chill, last moment of the little prince who is the innocent victim of these conflicts. Set and costumes heighten this sense of continuing relevance. Hammerpuzzle offer workshops as well as creating accessible theatre and this is certainly a show that could appeal to a young audience.

While Shakespeare's phrases still chime today, Kate Tempest can create voices his audience would recognise, in theme if not in phraseology. Kate herself is a superb solo performer, and Brand New Ancients is a hard act for her new 3-hander Hopelessly Devoted to follow.  Paines Plough, who also produced Kate's first play Wasted, came to Frome's Merlin on their southwest tour with this story of a young woman in prison for murder, in love with her released cellmate, grieving for her lost daughter, and finding solace and ~ we have to hope ~ redemption by processing the pain of her life through music. The language is terse, often lyrical, always emotionally charged. Both Chess, the talented singer/songwriter, and Serena, the paroled cellmate, have children: together they embody the differently intense distress of being a jailed mother. Chess aches for the contact Serena now dreads, lamenting "I got two kids to feed, I don’t even know what they like to eat." The catalyst for change is record producer Silver, a recovering addict intent on nurturing Chess's talent whether she likes it or not. Kate Tempest's compassion and insight into how it feels to be confined in a woman's prison is impressive, Amanda Wilkin, Gbemisola Ikumelo and Martina Laird give compelling performances, and the set effectively evokes a sense of confinement also doubling as the facebook world outside. "What's social media?" Chess demands, and newly-savvy Serena explains "It's like social services."  This production too is aimed at young audiences, with drama workshops available.

And finally... a quick rave about the dance night at Cheese&Grain on Friday ~ two fantastic Northern Soul bands, The All-nighters followed by local legends Fat Stanley, had everyone bopping at this Frack Free Somerset fund-raiser. And while we're still in Frome, don't forget the next Poetry Cafe is on Monday 17th. The theme is Journeys, and David Johnson and Daisy Behagg will be our guests.

Visibility nil, restricted viewing 5 stars

South Bank in spring sunshine...
I always feel this, not the view from Westminster Bridge, is the stretch of Thames that Wordsworth really had in mind when he wrote of the towers, domes, theatres and temples that enthralled him.  My friend Helen and I met here and walked along to the Tate Modern to see the Paul Klee exhibition. I'd booked with high expectations but left still foggy as to why this artist's work is held in such high esteem. "Formerly we used to represent things which were visible," Klee wrote, "...today we reveal the reality that is behind visible things." But what reality is that? There's none of the emotional energy of Kandinsky or Mirot, or the spacial exploration of Picasso ~ and though Klee continued to work and exhibit throughout two wars, no suggestion of awareness of these conflicts although two of his close colleagues died at the front in WWI. Apart from some recurrent images ~ fish, circles, lines ~ what predominates is those tidy patches of colour, flat as paint-cards, closely contiguous and inscrutably titled.  Helen & I thought they'd probably make nice cushions, and found on our way out the Tate shop had the same idea.

And then on to Shakespeare's Globe for supper overlooking the river,  followed by a feast of fun at the brand Sam Wanamaker Playhouse, a fabulous timber-framed theatre space created from designs based on drawings from early 1600s and lit by beeswax candles.
Their choice of opening production is brilliant: The Knight of the Burning Pestle, written around the same time by Francis Beaumont, is an anarchic pastiche of travelling troupes from the days of mummers and masqueraders, but with the bizarre post-modern twist of a meta-theatrical storyline. Not exactly a play-within-a-play, this is more two plays within a theatre that becomes the play, as narration is hijacked by the Grocer's insistence his apprentice becomes the fighting knight of the title and both conflicting tales are constantly interrupted by him and his good lady wife... perhaps you need to see it ~ though we were standing at the back of the Upper Circle with "Restricted Viewing" tickets, but with a hilariously bathos-laden script (Now in arms I'll never clasp 'er / for she's stolen away by your man Jasper!), high-energy physical comedy and fantastic acting, we loved every minute.

A tenuous literary link as footnote: I stayed over with Helen and next day we walked the Ayot Greenway, past Shaw's Corner where GBS lived & wrote for forty years. The house is maintained exactly as in his lifetime, down to the clothes and notebooks he used, but in those days this path was the train track to London. Shaw had a house in Fitzroy Square as well as Ayot St Lawrence, so we pictured him steaming past on this Lost Rail as we listened to the birds in the quiet woods.

Bliss is... elusive

Bath Literature Festival is currently bringing ten days on the theme of 'bliss' to the city, citing the feeling of pure joy and inspiration we get from the written and spoken word... something to cling to in times of uncertainty.  Bath Poetry Café may or may not have had this in mind when they jointly composed The Death of Actaeon, a play for voices performed in the Central Library on Saturday. I arrived during preliminary readings, just as guiding light Sue Boyle was calling to the assembled poets "Can I suggest we do the naughty nymph next?" I couldn't stay for the actual show but courtesy of Sue I did have the chance to read third nymph. A remarkable project, and I'm sure it was suitably well received - it certainly seemed huge fun.
Heading onward at noon I hoped to see some of the advertised Random Acts of Shakespeare in the city centre but though I found buskers, jugglers, and a cleverly poised golden fountain-man, this salon:collective initiative was sadly elusive. At risk of sounding pathetically old school, maybe some specific names rather than 'the streets of Bath' in the programme next time?
And then on to see the Soho Theatre production BLINK in Bristol Old Vic studio, a two-hander tautly directed by Joe Murphy. This play is billed as "a love story ~ a dysfunctional, voyeuristic and darkly funny love story, but a love story all the same." The narration is at first intriguing as Sophie, superbly acted by Lizzie Watts, deliberately prompts her Forest-Gumpy tenant into an obsession of extreme stalking which could have led to some fascinating social questioning about longing and loneliness, guilt and collusion, reality and fantasy, and how they can become blurred, but the plot abruptly took a While-I-lay-Sleeping swerve as Sophie's road accident puts her in a coma and Jonah's co-dependency takes a more clichéd turn. Writer Phil Porter credits Stewart Lee for his direct-to-audience style and aims to emulate his 'ability to make an audience laugh at him for sneering at them for laughing at themselves for laughing at a joke that isn't even supposed to be funny'.  The jokes get the laughter, but despite some sentimental moments, there's not enough compassion for the story to become deeply touching. 

Stark, truthful and moving... what else do you want from a writer?

What a week for brave and startling writing. Tuesday was the launch date of Love's Gutter, a collection of poems by Thomas Glover published by Stepping Out with endorsements to die for from Philip Gross, Georges Szirtes, Rose Flint, Abegail Morley, Elvis McGonagall, and Luke Wright.  As Thomas's editor, I was thrilled that all these respected poets made time to read and to recognise the authenticity of these 'poems with punch and verve that linger behind the eyes for hours.'   It was a privilege to work with Thomas as well as a pleasure to introduce his words to the world - and specifically the launch party in Cooper's Loft. Thanks, Andrew, for catching all the assembled poets in a jolly moment after the readings.

And on Thursday night Nathan Filer came to the Merlin for an event initially billed as a Poetry Platter, a small and intimate on-stage soiree with supper and poetry. In the time between Nathan agreeing to do this and the actual event, his debut novel made headlines across the literary world by scooping the Costa Book of the Year award, so we sold five times the expected number of tickets and Nathan adapted his performance by general consent to focus on The Shock of the Fall. As my friend & fellow-novelist Debby Holt summarised, "The man is a star: a natural communicator, a born showman and a fascinating commentator about our weird world of writing." As well as being hugely entertaining, Nathan's presentation incorporated encouraging advice to aspirant novelists, and a frank and fascinating insight into his own journey.
Much has been made of Nathan's credentials as a psychiatric nurse in Bristol, but Nathan is quite clear that though his narrator is diagnosed as having schizophrenia, this is "not a story about mental illness, it's a story about Matthew and his family, and how they deal with loss and grief." He sees this first-person novel as in the lineage of Vernon Godlittle, Frank in The Wasp Factory, Christopher in Curious Incident, and JD Salinger's Holden Cauldfield. "There’s a lot of nonsense written about schizophrenia, some malicious and some misconception, and I don't want to propegate malicious myths," he says: "Matthew is brave, decent, and kind - he's also irascible, conflicted, and can be horrible. He has a pernicious illness but he does not let that define him.”

Even though we didn't have time to hear about his trip to the West Bank and subsequent deportation (you can read about that in his Palestine blog) we did manage a quick peek down memory lane as Nathan produced a cutting from the Frome Times about the first time he stepped onto the Merlin stage. This was ten years ago when as Writer in Residence I decided to bring slam-style poetry to Frome, and a couple of youngsters named Nathan Filer and Luke Wright were on the bill....   I had a rummage when I got home and found the same clip ~ and realised I still wear that top...

Seems a good moment to reflect on the joy of writing -  views about which The Guardian recently asked nine well-known authors. To save you wading through a welter of words like misery, discomfort, depression, boredom, anguish, dread, here's a breath of fresh sense from Will Self: "Frankly, if I didn't enjoy writing novels, I wouldn't do it - the world hardly needs any more... fiction is my way of thinking about and relating to the world." Julie Myerson broke the mould of melancholy angst too: "It is a joyous thing. I feel very lucky to be paid to do it.. but the person I'm really always writing for is me."  Well said, both.

Love loss chance sex and ambition

A new season from SATTF is always something to look forward to, and Tobacco Factory is the ideal venue for Shakespeare's mix of imaginary landscapes and magic realism in As You Like It.  It's a garrulous play, in fact an extended exercise in complex word-play for most of the speeches, and the wit needs careful signposting for a modern audience. Which is why it's even more remarkable that after three hours I really didn't want it to end. Director Andrew Hilton has assembled a stunning cast who all seem to live each moment for the first time, so even the longest exchanges feel immediate and engaging. Although this production makes the most of its women (Dorothea Myer-Bennett as Rosalind and Daisy May as Celia both mesmerising) inevitably the male energy predominates, but with an electric diversity through physical spectacle, music, visual gags, meta-theatricality (Touchstone and Jacques have more than a dab of Vladimir and Estragon about them) and dark psychological twists. Especially exciting are the moments when the forest glade of good Duke Senior, a kind of Occupy/voice-camp in Arden, abruptly morphs into evil Duke Frederick's court - brilliant mood-shifts by double-duke Chris Bianchi.  Harriet de Winton's vaguely 1940s costumes work superbly, and the minimal props are all that's needed.  It's on till 22 March and then touring till May, go see this magical tale the director defines as "about human experience - love, loss, chance, sex and ambition."

And that segueways into a quick film spot: Inside Llewyn Davis is a road-movie about a 1960s Greenwich Village folksinger and a ginger cat, so irresistible to me in at least 3 ways.  As it's written & directed by the Cohn brothers this is a mythic journey too ~ the cat is even called Ulysses ~ and shot in fabulous muted tones throughout. Oscar Isaac is in virtually every shot but as he's gorgeous that's no problem, and the soundtrack is movingly authentic, like the subfusc folksy venues. Even the long drive to Chicago doesn't flag thanks to John Goodman as an obnoxious fellow-passenger. There's no real surprises but beautifully-understated detail makes this melancholy story gripping from the start. It's a lesson too late for the learning, as Bob Dylan would sing.

Meanwhile in Frome, Pip Utton presents a double bill of warmongers at the Merlin: a revival of his renowned one-man show as Hitler, paired with Churchill.  Pip has an uncanny way of looking like all his one-man show subjects, and with bulky suit with white scarf, homburg, and stick, he shared a striking resemblance to the statue in Parliament Square which, in this conceit, steps down when the clock strikes thirteen to reminisce with whisky and cigars.  Much of this biographical material is entertaining ~ the caustic wit of Winston is renowned ~ and some, like his childhood abandonment, is moving. Of the war, he insists "There is no glory in death in battle" but there is glory in victory, and his unswerving policy 'to wage war' remains unregretted. The prime minister who was tagged after his death 'the most famous man in history' ends his tale and climbs on to his plinth again.

At Black Swan Arts, Print & Clay is the new exhibition from a group of ceramicists with a quirky indifference to the common perception  of clay objects as primarily functional ~ I especially liked 's huge manic moths making the wall a vast insect box. Due to gales floods and general elemental mayhem the opening night was unusually sparse but you've got till 8th March to see this delightful show. 

Memories are made of this

The Full Monty, a Sheffield Theatres revival heading for the West End, exposed itself briefly at Theatre Royal Bath en route.  Like its stablemates Brassed Off and Billy Eliot, this heart-string-tugger is given heart only by its context: the economic plight of northern working classes in the 1980s. Trumpeting, dancing, stripping ~ just different ways to highlight the poignancy of the mens' emasculation when their jobs and entire way of life were axed by Thatcher.

Located among the abandoned steel-factories of Sheffield, with a fantastic set to evoke that mighty dereliction, the wider context of this structural dismantling is sketched in with Job Club banter and individual domestic crises as Gaz (Kenny Doughty) rounds up his recalcitrant Chippendales. The finale of this tale of a motley crew who “thought we could make a bob or two by taking us clothes off” is the literal 'reveal', the route via gags rather than dramatic tension. 

Directed at a somewhat stately pace by Daniel Evans, there's a strong male cast ~ standout performances from Roger Morlidge as fat Dave, Simon Rouse as dapper Gerald, and especially Craig Gazey as Lomper the thwarted suicide.  After the interval the pace hots, and the ladies of Bath went as wild as the Sheffield wives as the climax approached. Overall more sentimental than raunchy, but often very funny and the soundtrack is great.

And finally...  Like a genteel 19th Century dinner-party hostess I generally avoid reference to politics or the weather on my blog ~ facebook's the place for those tirades ~ but as England literally submerges here's a blog from campaigner Jane Young that sums it all up, and an image of the A361 across Somerset.  Lest we forget, though looks like we'll have till May to etch the memory of this winter,
When disabled people can’t get suitable housing, we have no money. 
When we need accessible public transport, we have no money. 
When poor families can’t afford both food and heating, we have no money. 
When people who appeal an incorrect “fit for work” decision need money to live on while their decision is “reconsidered”, we have no money. 
When those who care 24/7 for family members are penalised financially simply to remain in their homes, we have no money. 
When A & E departments are under severe strain and sick people are waiting hours even to get into the hospital, we have no money. 
BUT when homes in middle England are flooded, money’s no object and we’re suddenly a wealthy country.

Every end a new beginning

“Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.” ~ Cesar A Cruz, poet & activist

Final compilation of feedback for Media Monsters, which had its last night at Alma Tavern Theatre on Saturday, showed thought provoking was the most frequently-used phrase on the forms (which will all be archived on the website of our production company Stepping Out Theatre.) Gratifyingly, this was often paired with comments like 'very funny' and 'great one-liners'. Our audiences drove through monsoon rain and lagoon-like roads to pack the theatre, clap and cheer our cast, and tell us their evening was amazing, terrific, and very entertaining: the performances fantastic and powerful, the direction inspired and imaginative, and the writing first-rate, intelligent, insightful, and truly talented.  
And now, suddenly, it's over. I'm going to quote our director's fb status again:
 "What a great farewell to MEDIA MONSTERS. It's been the best ride, EVER!! And onwards..... Xxx"
Ian McEwen talking about the stage adaptation of The Cement Garden said he found it strange to see someone else's imagining of the world he created, "but you realise you're just watching one of the infinite number of possibilities." Which is also true even when the story was written expressly for staging, and I've been inexpressibly privileged to watch the unique imaginings of this terrific team.  Paddy, Livi, Vincent, Bob, Marc... missing you already.

Martin Dimery brought his one-man show Shakespeare Rattle & Roll to Coopers Hall as a Frome Festival fund-raiser, en route to his next performances at Leicester Square Theatre Lounge.  Martin is a hugely talented singer/musician and wicked parodist as well as knowledgeable about the bard, so you can learn about Shakespeare's life, plays, and use of iambic pentameter as well as enjoying his songs and sonnets as sung by a range of performers from Elvis and Bob Marley to George Formby and Ray Winstone. Some ~ like the Sex Pistols version of the witches chant from Macbeth ~ are hilarious, some poignant, and the John Lennon version of Feste's song Hey, ho, the wind and the rain is simply beautiful.

Final footnote: a glimpse of Frome Library on Saturday for National Libraries Day. High winds meant the market outside was cancelled, but there was hot coffee & cake in the foyer with songs & stories in the childrens' section all morning.  

Topicality and timelessness

Just when you thought I'd never write about anything except Media Monsters (it's still going really well btw, see this stonking review from the Fine Times Recorder) here comes something completely different: Last week was the official premiere of the new animation from Evil Genius:  The Patsy, a clever, witty, and all-round-brilliant animated parody of classic film genres with the topical theme of political whistleblowers on the run.  Previous shorter tales from Grime City are already cult classics but at 22 minutes this story gives a chance for writers Sam Morrison (surname entirely non-coincidental) and Andrew Endersby to develop characters and sustain a complex storyline.  Credit too goes to Ian Hickman, responsible for much of the animation. Massive impact on The Cube's big screen but designed for small-screen too so if you don't get to many animation festivals, look out for it on C4 before long.

And I couldn't miss Chris Goode's Infinite Lives, a Tobacco Factory Theatre production, which opened this week. I saw and loved The Adventures of Wound Man and Shirley by Chris, which was strange, lyrical, moving and funny, so I arrived at the Brewery with high expectations. I wasn't disappointed. If you wanted a 20 word summary I'd say this is a treatise on loneliness, erotica as love, and broadband as the only communication we now know, exquisitely written and brilliantly presented.  Narrated by 'John', an agoraphobic obsessed with a gay porn website (he's played mesmerically by Ray Scannell), this lucid and compassionate story is vividly animated by projections (Alex Wright) and sound (Timothy X Atack) and superbly directed by Nik Partridge. The script is moving, funny, and sometimes sublime ~ as when John plans his futuristic novel: "There's got to be an enemy.. or maybe not, maybe it's like porn: no one says no, and it's beautiful." I don't want to do spoilers as this fantastic piece is on till 15th February, but John may ultimately find that although connection which isn't through technology brings pain, it can bring redemption too.

Still other the topic of other topics, a quick shift to radio now as rehearsals begin for a Frome FM drama project: Quantock Close, an Everyday Story of Fromie Folk. Five local writers have produced 10 scripts for a pilot series following the Archeresque dilemmas of a group of rural townies, with incomers and locals bantering and bickering over beers ~ or rather Pinot Grigio now the alehouse is updating into a wine-bar.  Becky Baxter has on taken the directing role, full cast now assembled, and we have a month to run-through the scripts and tweak them to time for Frome FM producer Phil Moakes's alloted broadcasting slot.  Grayson Perry allegedly paints to the BBC prototype, so this could be good news for Frome's booming artist community.

Finally... two more chances to see Monsters if you book soon ~ the Alma Tavern Theatre has been increasingly crammed all week.  I'll be posting the final roundup of feedback next week and you'll be eating your fist with disappointment if you miss out. 

So what do you think of it so far?

You know the first night went well when your director posts as facebook status: What a freakin awesome night. MEDIA MONSTERS is a smash. 
At the end of the first week we haven't seen the Alma feedback forms but if it's like the emails and texts we're getting, praise is trending. As in: "Thoroughly enjoyed the performances. Great fun, great writing and a quality production from a talented cast. Totally surpassed my expectations. A wet night in January well spent. :)"
Audiences are growing ~ Saturday was cusp of sell-out ~ but still one more week if you haven't yet booked.  Alma Tavern does pretty good pre-theatre meals too, I recommend the trout.

On the subject of feedback, which is audience reviewing really, Rosie and I went along to a Theatre Bristol Writers discussion posted by Richard Aslan as "about theatre and writing" before the show on Friday. We expected a focus on scripts when we joined a circle of about 20 in the stygian gloom of the Old Vic basement where Richard is a writer-in-residence, but the activity in question ~ in fact, under challenge ~ was writing about, not for, performance: viz, reviewing plays.  After a lot of unpacking, agendas became clearer: Tom Wainright, also a writer-in-residence, organises a network of reviewers to comment on Bristol shows on facebook ~ he wants them non-disparaging but Richard wants them non-existent. After all, bad reviews can kill a show, can’t they? That appeal was to Ali Robertson, Director of Tobacco Factory, who demurred. "We find reviews have no significance on sales. Twitter traffic will make more effect than Lyn Gardner."
So why do we need reviews at all? Answers were readily forthcoming: Archives for the company, reference for venues considering a booking, verbal snapshots for promotion.... nothing converted Richard from his aversion. “Critical writing doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. What do writers want in response to their work?”  “Praise,” replied Tom, reasonably.  Sharon Clark developed this: “It's a spread of response. Some will hit hard, and teach the writer a lot - others will love it... Twenty years ago we had 4 newspaper reviewers. Now it’s much more responsive and I think that’s fine, whether it’s Lynn Gardner or Joe Bloggs.”  Ali agreed: “The few voices on a pedestal have been replaced by a multiplicity of voices ~ and good on them. In future, theatre-makers will regard writing about theatre as part of their practice,” which is such a good point we could have ended the meeting on that note and all had a cup of coffee.
But we meandered on and finally came full circle with Richard reiterating "I don’t think a critic is an artist." And then on a personal note “It gets my gall - what right have they to judge my work?" to which Rina Vergano sensibly replied “Because you’ve put it out there for people to pay to see."
And there the debate ended, unsummarised.  Credit to BOV for getting a network of theatre makers and writers together, but quenching subjective opinions would be a Canute project even without internet. We all make judgements based on personal responses every day, and writing is a creative and positive way to process experience.  Lynn on her shaky pedestal and Joe Bloggs in the street can say what they think, and so can we all. 

Preview votes have been counted...

BRILLIANT! BEST YET.  That's our audience feedback for Media Monsters preview nights... and also one of the replies to What did you think of tonight's performance? We've never had such a torrent of feedback forms, all of them super-appreciative. Excellent and thought-provoking peppered responses, with lots of comments that showed how completely our Frome audiences 'got' our intentions. There were positive comments about our scripts ("brilliantly written"~ "Modern Shakespeare") our cast ("sensitively acted"~ "fantastic performances") and Marc's direction ("Loved the staging and movement" ~ "sensitive and nuanced".)  The contrast in tone between our plays went down well too: "Both enjoyable, interesting perspectives" ~ "Good contrast – first satirical, second original with dramatic development, thoughtful and very powerful.")  Our plays are moving & real,  funny, clever, sexy and shocking, meaty & complex, uncomfortable & enjoyable, entertaining, complex & seamless, riveting, challenging compelling & evocative.  And comments along the lines of "created lots of discussion and will keep us talking" are certainly proving true!

As the company gets ready for our run at Alma Tavern Theatre, Rosie and I can take a deep breath until opening night. I've found that for a playwright the process of production is fascinating & deeply terrifying. Your words, like The Prophet's children, leave the home of your imagination and saunter off into the house of tomorrow which you cannot enter, not even in your dreams. That's why we write for theatre, of course, rather than for readers. In my mind, my characters were idealists who  since 1967 had progressively constructed separate lives: their memories ~ heart-breakingly beautifully acted by Olivia Dennis and Vincent Enderby ~ are selective, and their real-time interaction non-connective: a jagged route to their final stand-off.  Marc as director saw the journey slightly differently, and that becomes the writer's journey too. It's a fearful privilege and I've learned much about the vital steps from page to stage. I'm Bafta-gushingly grateful to Stepping Out Theatre for taking on the Media Monsters project, and to this talented cast & crew.

So prepping's done and taster tasted, on now to Bristol for the real feast... After two full-house shows with such a generously enthusiastic supporters, what challenges will next week bring?

Dissenting voices, minor and major

Mark Thomas couldn't get the measure of the Merlin Theatre audience for 100 Acts of Minor Dissent, he said. He only gave us 7/10 but that's apparently close to top score ~ quite right too for a full house and a scrum for his dissenting merchandise. Perhaps he found us a bit earnest, applauding practical political outcomes more vigorously than disgusting definitions for the word Farage. We might not have relished the images of subverting porn as feminist art, but we were wholeheartedly with Mark's avowed motivation: "I love our community, and I hate what capitalism is doing to it".
Most of the acts of dissent are very funny and all have a purpose, which is to claim or reclaim common rights. Mark knows the law ~ with his team of radical lawyers, he should ~ and applied under the Freedom of Information Act to see what data the police have on him. Which is a very long list of his presences at public protests, some with endearing comments ("He seemed happy") and some tersely disparaging. "General rabble-rouser and alleged comedian" is one Mark is considering using as a review quote.  He gave himself 6/10 for the show but after 2 hours of full-on, informative, inspiring, thought-provoking, comedy, most of us would have upped that to at least 9.

Speaking of provocative theatre, Frome Standard out today has a double-page spread on Media Monsters including full interview with Rosie and me on the writing and production process for each of our plays. Big thanks to Your Time editor Dan Biggane for supporting us in our most personal shared theatre project yet ~ and if you've left it too late to book for the Frome preview at Cornerhouse, there are still seats at Alma Tavern Theatre where they've also laid on a pre-theatre meal deal, with prosecco...

... and we're nearly off. Or rather, on!

MEDIA MONSTERS is coming... or should that be 'are coming?' Probably ~ this is a double bill of two very different plays, though both question the relationship of media to morality ~ television media especially. My Big Fat TV Bitch, Rosie's play, is a sharp and funny challenge to documentary exploitation of minority groups, timely indeed as the Benefit Street furore continues to rumble.  Rosie says: "I think of a character who will express what I want to say. That character will meet others... and with them, I create a piece of theatre. Molly (pictured here) was until recently a character inside my head. I can't wait to meet her on Friday night." Which echoes Jolyon Rubenstein, whose show The Revolution will be Televised was Comedy Programme Bafta winner 2013, in interview with Ideas Tap: "If you know your character, you know what they’re going to say. Satire is about noticing what everyone else is thinking and giving voice to it." His ideal recipe is "Ali G in a blender with Panorama."

My play Fixing It isn't a social satire, it's more social reflection about changing social values ~ a love story and a morality play too. The oblique reference to Jimmy Savile (who features only in this drama as an aberrant & abhorrent icon from a very different era) inspired our flyers, which have caused so much controversy that Martin Earley had to remove them from display at our Cornerhouse venue ~ that's the ones not torn down by enraged punters. There was even discussion as to whether Simon Cowell would sue us for the use of his image on the same piece of paper as a pixilated, blurred, half-visage of the biggest monster of all time... I'm not reposting the contentious flyer here, so scroll down a couple of weeks to make up your own mind. Would it put you off coming to see the show? We're nearly fully booked for the preview this weekend so the question is academic, but I'm curious. 

Sketches and preliminaries

Visually speaking, what is a sketch? A rough preliminary to more crafted piece of work ~ equivalent to the writer's 'splurge' draft ~ or is it an expression of the artist's process needing no further development, in the way a theatrical sketch is a complete piece?  SKETCH is the current exhibition at Black Swan Arts, with 54 collections selected from open competition which between them comprise hundreds of glimpses of their artists' interior and exterior lives.  Words at the Black Swan writing group, led by David Davies, skirted definitions with a focus on individual pieces and the private moments they represent.  A stimulating session, producing thoughtful & delightful responses which will be displayed at the gallery and archived online here with the images that inspired them.

And on the subject of using words to sketch reflections, Philip Larkin's "statement" on why he wrote poetry was simple: to preserve things I have seen / thought / felt, both for myself and for others, though I feel that my prime responsibility is to the experience itself... Why I should do this I have no idea, but I think the impulse to preserve lies at the bottom of all art. It certainly applies to all writing ~ stories and dramas too ~ whether challenging, mourning, or fantasty-dreaming: at their heart is a desire to preserve what we have felt, whether through living or longing, or even dreading. Certainly everything I ever write is somewhere on that experiential continuum from intimately known to emotionally conceivable.

My play Fixing It, moving as it does swiftly back and forth along this imaginary continuum, has consequently left me giddy as rehearsals continue. I'm in awe of the actors who have taken these characters and given them dimension, colour, energy, and even private thoughts & emotions I never fully realised. It's like someone's turned up the heating on my inner world. Livi and Vincent are heart-breakingly convincing as the youngsters believing All you need is love, but Paddy and Robert are gripping as their older selves, still passionate about their ideals, but no longer in unison.
I'm loving the way Marc runs rehearsals: a combo of disciplined sessions on key aspects like transitions plus wonderful inclusive times like an hour listening to tracks from their era chosen by all the cast... what a great way to start a long day.  Sarah is still busy sorting out costumes, mindful that quick changes are vital. Here's Vincent as Rick, if this takes you back then you probably remember the summer of love too... So in case you've forgotten, we open for two nights' preview in Frome at the Cornerhouse on 24th January, with the 'proper' run (ie full set and lighting) at Alma Tavern Theatre from 28th January till 8th February.




And then, unbelievably, life will go on, and other things will happen... one of which is that Frome favourite Nathan Filer, who has now made himself a nation's favourite too by winning the Costa Debut Novel award for The Shock of the Fall,  is coming to Merlin Theatre to talk about his shift from acclaimed poet to acclaimed novelist ~ and also tell us why he was deported from his truth-finding mission in the West Bank. This will be a night to remember~ booking recommended, as it's one of our "Platter" nights with everyone onstage in a bistro atmosphere, with real supper option.

Happy new year.... though one week on 21014 is already not quite box-fresh. Jingoistic shots have been fired in an ominous preliminary to the centenary commemoration of WW1, as Michael Gove blithely reinvents history to eliminate the public protests and the records of thousands court-martialled, apparently under the impression that until Ben Elton wrote Blackadder Goes Forth, the Battle of the Somme was a moral triumph and every soldier slavishly supported "the old lie, Dulce et decorum est / pro patria mori."  He should have read Robert Graves' Goodbye to All That: "Patriotism, in the trenches, was too remote a sentiment, rejected as fit only for civilians, or prisoners. A new arrival who talked patriotism would soon be told to cut it out." Or at least listened to Harry Patch, last veteran of that war, who unflinchingly insisted: "The politicians who took us to war should have been given guns and told to settle their differences themselves."  But then education isn't really Mr Gove's thing, is it. 

And as lashing rain with winds of up to 90mph transform roads into rivers, fields into lagoons, and generally turn the land into a vast puddle, maybe Bristol theatrical productions should stop conjuring up dramatic storms as a major plot line.  The weather has never quite been the same since Tom Phillips' play 100 Miles North of Timbuktu last autumn, in which an invention to control the weather by computer got out of control and brought catastrophic tidal waves up the Bristol Channel ~ and now Tobacco Factory is staging The Last Voyage of Sinbad the Sailor, a story about a series of violent ship-wrecking storms.  It's a high-spirited and high-energy show, and demonstrates the superior power of imagination over complex sets and costumes as five charismatic performers do battle with ogres, sprites, and whales as well as high waves.  Saikat Ahamed, Vic Llewellyn, Zara Ramm, Lucy Tuck and the ever-excellent Chris Bianchi share the roles around between them on a kind of rota basis but the clarity of story-telling ensures there's no confusion, and there's enough variety in each sequence, including live music and clever puppetry, to ensure the saga never flags.

Despite this double-dose of spells aimed at submerging all routes between Frome and Bristol underwater, Rosie and I made it to Hen & Chickens in Bedminster for the first rehearsal of our double-bill  Media Monsters with director Marc Geoffrey and our dream-team cast. Day one was for read-through, discussions, and script-tweaks.
It's indescribably exciting to hear words that came out of your head becoming first voices and then people,  who begin to have opinions, and intentions, not all of which you knew about...  Ann shows the set design, which is fabulous, and there's first thoughts about music. Two days on, Sarah arrives to talk costumes and there's excited talk of make-up and hair-curling sessions. Marc is blocking my play Fixing It and devising links between the two different decades, and when, after 8 hours of rehearsal, we reach the end of the first full run-through and he says 'That was a good day's work' I feel as proud as if I'd actually contributed anything more than a besotted and slightly inane smile all day.  So there'll probably be more in a similar vein for the next few postings too... enjoy your January, I know I will.