Casting a Wyrd shadow

Auditions are not easy. For actors or director.....

Last week was both fun and scary. I've been looking forward to the idea of directing again for some time, but doing the auditions is a scary process. What if no-one turns up? What if the people who turn up aren't, put simply, enough, in numbers or measurement of 'good'? What if I muff up the audition process so much that they don't want to take part.

As a result, I arrived at the school hall which is so generously provided to us for free for auditions and rehearsals half an hour earlier than I planned to...and fretted.

I needn't have worried.

Apart from anything else, I had support. Miscriant, who I worked with on her production of Teechers, amongst so many other things, offered to turn up early, and as well as audition, offered to help out backstage. She also offered to come along to the second night of auditions to take the photos you see below. The President of the Canterbury Players, also our set designer, turned up at the first night of auditions to offer support, and, as he admitted, to have a bit of a nose around. Our Chair, who had ended up co-directing the last performance, offered to help out in some way backstage and be there for moral support, and my fellow lighting bod, a good friend who also is an excellent actress, but never gets to act due to requirements of the job, not only offered to be part of the backstage crew, but also to come to auditions to offer support. This did wonders for my confidence.

The secret to auditions is to be fun, informative, simple and ideally, to set the tone for the play so the cast know what they are letting themselves in for. Therefore, these auditions were silly, unstructured outside of the main idea, and encouraged people to let rip - people needed to go in informed. The format for both nights was the same - some people came for both, most did one or the other.

We started with a simple warm up, throwing a stress ball borrowed from work around a circle. Everyone started off by introducing themselves and saying a fact about themselves, then throwing the ball to another person, saying the fact. We have multiple instances of people being double jointed, confessions of being an old bat, webbed feet, knitted hippos (both the knitting of and being the model for the same), and many more.

I then moved on to explain about the play, starting with the Discworld and Terry Pratchett, and finishing with a précis of the plot.

During these early parts of the audition, it is important that the director imposes a sense of order and professionalism on events, to show they know what they are doing, whilst being engaging:

It is vital that at no point you undermine all this by striking a pose like a miming Morris Dancer.....

 Ah well.

I then moved to do a bit of a piece giving me a chance to see how quickly the cast can sketch characters, by asking them just move around the room, having split them into three groups. I then shouted out what character type I wanted each group to be as they moved around the room, and told them to interact as they met each other.

The important thing from this is to see how quickly people can adopt characteristics, play different types of people and interact with each other. I was pleased on both nights to see how much people threw themselves into it. The next few shots are simply people taking instructions like "Be a witch", "Be an actor of the old school", and "Be a fool", and running with them. Sometimes this job is easy, because the people run with it....

Having given the actors a chance to get into the swing of the panto style I am inevitably going to end up directing in (they say you direct like you act if you are an actor focussed director), I got them to line up on opposite sides of the room.

The next exercise gave me a chance to see how well the guys can ad lib (sorry, improvise), form a genuine character and chemistry with another actor and be observed. In turn, each person walked across to their opposite number as whichever character they had most enjoyed being in the previous role, and spend a short time chatting in the middle before moving on. I'm glad my prospective cast had a sense of timing...I was too busy laughing to tell them when to stop and move on, but they seemed to know!!

Finally, I let people get their hand on a script, taken two short scenes and creating a performance of them. This almost inevitably starts with a hasty group casting session and read through of the script....

Pretty quickly, this moves on to starting to put some performance moves and basic blocking....

I gave the groups about 15 minutes to work on the scenes before then showing them to me an each other....this is actually about 5 mins more than is strictly needed, but there was a reason. People start getting creative with the characters, little bit of business and with their moves....

And then, they start getting creative with the props which can be cobbled together from what is in the room, whether it is something to represent a pot of gold, or a practical aid like a lectern:

...one of the school benches turned into the central prop of the scene....

....or, disturbingly, a Jessie (from Toy Story 2) doll to represent a baby!

The auditions were great fun, and on the second night, we ended up being invited to the end of term party for the staff of the school.

I have to say though, despite us attending briefly, I was distracted, already mentally moving bits of paper around to complete the casting. I had contact details, and expressions of interest in particular roles and also people offering to be backstage if they weren't cast, or even if they were.....

It wasn't easy. I decided early on that I would be able to make use of most of the people who had attended auditions or not attended but read separately - this was useful, as I was dreading phone calls or emails turning people down....that said, I would do it if I didn't feel I could use the cast member well, so it says a lot about those who attended that I wouldn't need to do much of that. But then, what roles? How to cast people normally used in leading roles in smaller roles because they would nail the essential job of pushing it forward. Take a risk on a new member, or end up typecasting existing members? What am I doing with the play in terms of tone and feel, as this would affect the casting.

I distracted myself with the 39 steps, a reunion with an old Uni house-mate and former co worker who lives in Australia and was over for a short visit, and the Wimbledon Men's Singles final.I asked one cast member to let me know which of a couple of roles they might be interested in, just to see if it would break the deadlock in my head. And in the process, my subconscious cracked it, and I cast the play. On Monday, all the cast were contacted, and most of them have confirmed they are in for the roles.

There is so much more to do - plan rehearsals, talk set design with the designer (already under way), order scripts, put together backstage crew, including sound and lights and costumes and so so much more. But if it all goes as well as this, all will be well, and very enjoyable.

That, and the ever charming Miscriant, in addition to taking on an acting role, has agreed to come on board as my assistant/co-director.

Top banana.

We're on!

I like to think I'm immune to the stuff, but I might as well face it.....

Kids,

I'm here today to tell you how I met your....erm. Hang on, I'm getting ahead of myself here.

A funny thing happened at the theatre on Friday. And I'm not talking about the show.

Although that was very funny. A brief diversion from the diversion here. A group of us, following exhortations from various sources, went to see the 39 Steps at the Marlowe Theatre on Friday.It was magnificent. 4 actors (ish) play 139 roles in a play which lasts about 2 hours, including an interval and tells a surprisingly faithful account of the original novel, peppered with laugh out loud humour, and all out assault on the 4th wall and incredible creativity and commitment. Go and see it. I loved it. And I really, really, want to do it.

Once I've got the current show out of the way that it is. Yes, to the few of you curious, the auditions went very well. I now have a cast, though they don't know it yet, so the blog about the auditions and casting will appear later.

So, apart from the show, a funny thing happened at the theatre. I fell in love. Again. For an hour and a half.

I'm wary in writing this that I might be being too emotionally honest again. I've been reliably informed that my blithe willingness to discuss my feelings, acknowledge critical failings and my inner crazy, whilst a probably great characteristic, is intimidating. I see the logic, though I do baulk at the word intimidating. It has been used to describe me more often than I am comfortable with. Made all the more laughable by the fact that a) I am generally more intimidated than intimidating, and b) I'm really the least intimidating person you are ever likely to meet.

So, to be clear, I am aware that I wasn't in love. I was besotted, swept along on the romance of a moment. I know love. I've felt it. And lost it. This isn't it. But you see, here's the thing....

My name is RV, and I'm a hopeless romantic.

And, falling in love (easier than writing falling in besot, if that's even a thing, so please excuse the contrivance) for even the briefest of periods, is part of this. I am a great believer in big gestures, narrative sweeps, the size and scale and joy of the universe. I get taken up and swept along in the moment. It damages my critical faculties, as I can forgive the sweeping influence almost anything, and see passed flaws. I have already waxed lyrical about the power an empty theatre or going to a film and show has over me. I commented after the show that every theatre show I have been to since about the age of 12 has resulted in me becoming fascinated with one of the female members of the cast, productions with friends or which I am performing in aside, and that is true.

I know what it is - it's the romance of the moment. The heightened reality of the stage, the atmosphere, the characters, the energy a person has to put into a performance, the play of the light, the fact that, simply, I am being required by everything in the theatre to pay attention to this person. And then I see them.

Okay, pause for a second here. I'm aware this could be coming off as stalker-y. Or, disparaging to whatever poor soul has the joy of being my 'other half' at the time I go to that show.... That isn't how it works at all.

For a start, it is not sexual, or real, in any way. I sometimes dismiss it as such to simplify it when talking with people, leading to a perhaps not particularly tasteful (though always amusing) line in humour which tends to include me loitering around the stage door and kidnapping them. But I hope my friends get that this isn't what it is. I suspect they would not be my friends if even for a second they thought it was this way.

No, what this is is being in love with the idea of someone. The story they are part of, the vulnerability they have to show to perform on stage and the confidence to perform. They become my 'in' to the reality of the play, my sympathetic character, and the one you want to root for.

Anyway, this led me to ponder the meaning of 'hopeless romantic'. It has become used as a term of excuse and abuse these days. People are dismissed as hopeless romantics if they have no grasp of the reality of the situation. Or, individuals rather shamefacedly describe themselves as 'hopelessly romantic' to excuse some naive or ridiculous act.

We have rather become obsessed with the 'hopeless', in hopeless romantic, and taken it out of context to mean, beyond or without hope.And we are using romantic in the sense of romanticising, or fictionalising. Certainly it indicates a lack of interaction with reality, and so it isn't a massive leap to go from 'hopeless romantic' to gormless idiot. And let's be right, my own tendency to get carried away with ideas, and 'fall in love' at the drop of a hat, would seem to back this up.

Our contradictory relationship with 'hopeless romanticism' is best summed up by this quote:

For me, this is a good thing. To love, completely, desperately, is the very essence of love. But Salinger was a bit of a cynical soul I gather, and there is an awareness to this quote. Does this make the person who loves 'desperate'?

Look, I understand the cynicism. I alternate most of the time between cynical and blindingly optimistic. A more 'realistic'attitude is a great protection against the vicious capriciousness of the universe. But I'll never give it up. Hopeless romantics to me have such a view of the universe that resonates with me, and my belief in the big and the small and despair about the medium and mediocre.

I mean, after all, one of my favourite tv characters is hopeless romantics, in both senses of the words:

See, that reference to kids and how I met at the start makes sense now, doesn't it? I actually call most people I know 'kids' because of the identification. Most American cinema is hopelessly romantic. Probably why I love it.

It is also, I hope, one of the reasons that I have remained single since my latest main relationship. I am not equipped, either in physical appearance, or temperament, to be cynical about relationships, or basic. There are undeniably times where I wish I was. And maybe I am, just not had the chance to be- my hopeless romance gets in the way.

I'm not saying that being a hopeless romantic means that you are always only looking for the one big thing. But, it does lead to you to commit more completely during any relationship - friendship, romance, family. Intimacy is easier, and craved. Sure, you can over commit, an abandon critical faculties, and the end of such relationships is harder. but it is worth it.

I started this by talking about 'falling in love', before swiftly acknowledging that I knew this was the wrong phrase. But here's the thing. For a hopeless romantic, you can be besotted, especially briefly. But when that becomes more 'real', then the 'fancying' is deeper, less basic. Don't get me wrong, you need to be attracted to the person, but attraction is a greater commitment for a hopeless romantic than for many.

If, like me, you are a socially dysfunctional hopeless romantic, the attraction may not even be obvious, or assumed to be passive, as we do not have the toolkit to convey it, or act on it.

And love? Love, for a hopeless romantic, is instantly life changing, and if lost, becomes so big. But worth the risk of that loss.

I contend that we all have it within us to be hopeless romantics. But, most of us find the person who deserves that first, and then become it about them. I suppose that's a good thing, really.

But there are a few people who are hopeless romantics in the same way as they are oxygen breathers. These silly, giddy, fools get swept away by the person the other side of the room, or on stage. They crave intimacy, and will share everything in their heart. When they find a person who they actually fall in love with, it doesn't surprise them, it feels natural, deep, and true. And whilst they can never claim not to have moments of getting besotted for half an hour, love for a hopeless romantic is something which has to be killed rather than dies.

There's honestly no point to this post. No pithy summary, no real message, just musings.

Hopeless romantics, probably fairly, are seen are silly, child-like souls, who deal with the world on too simple a level and are too emotionally open, leaving them vulnerable.

I wish there were, and hope there are, more of us.