And so we begin the final phase at drama school, by June 24th this life changing adventure will be over and I'll be back out into the normal world, looking for work, trying, for the first time properly, to make it as an actor. Come on.
Things are moving at pace, tomorrow I start rehearsals for 'Fade to Black' and Thursday brings rehearsals for 'Human Shrapnel' otherwise known as my baby. Not a real baby of course as that would be weird...Meetings today to discuss show times, number of shows and our technical requirements meant that it felt as if we were truely underway on our adventure to make excellent theatre. Lines have to be learnt and pieces knocked into shape. Exciting and terrifying.
Unlike Theatre of Blood which was a dire pile of horseshit. I loath theatre that's about theatre, how annoyingly self-referential and embarrassing to watch a play puff itself up and have the termerity to think that's it's actually about something. Self-mythologising pomp and nonsense! It wasn't helped by Jim Broadbent forgetting his lines as the play trotted to it's dull peak like a disabled horse. What a lamentable waste of £20.
I'll leave you with another excerpt from 'Human Shrapnel'...
I came home from school one day and walked into the kitchen to see my mummy hanging from the light fitting. Swinging back and forth, back and forth, stupid young face nearly torn off from her pretty neck. Streaks of piss running down her track marked thighs. Imagine that, ten years of age and walking in on that? Imagine what that'd do to your little head? At the time though didn't seem to bother me much, I carried on as normal and told no one. I left her there just like dad did when he walked out on us, swinging back and forth back and forth, before one of the new boyfriends, on his way round for a bit of her fanny and mouth, found out and got the Council to cut her down and sent me to my dad's. I worked around her they said, the little man just worked around her.