The Factory - Recently Updated Pages

Missing the Point

FayeThomas — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 07:41:32 CST

There is no abstract available for this page revision.

50/50 SATURDAY 7TH SHOW REPORT

AlexHassell — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 08:24:35 CST

Just getting it ready.

I am intending to write something about what I learned doing all this so hope you might share more then too.

50/50 FRIDAY 6TH 9.30 SHOW REPORT

AlexHassell — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 08:23:13 CST

Come on!

50/50 FRIDAY 6TH 2.30 SHOW REPORT

AlexHassell — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 08:22:15 CST

Will you please?

Would be very valuable.

We have had very little sharing of thoughts about 50/50's move into rehearsal and performance because we have been very disparate but I think it would be a helpful thing to do and for us to read!

A

x

Sarah Bedi - open letter of resignation

AlexHassell — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 08:18:49 CST

Dear Factory,

This letter of resignation is public and posted on the website, not in an attempt to humiliate or manipulate, but in order that there be no misunderstandings about my reasons. And, I guess, as a farewell to the company.

As you know, I’ve championed and supported The Factory with every ounce of my being for the last two and a half years. I still believe that at our best, when we are at the top of our game, we are great. Truly Great.

However, as you also know, I’ve been championing female involvement for some time now. And I’m aware this has seemed confrontational and has made me unpopular. In Tim Evan’s words, he is ‘getting MORE THAN A LITTLE fed up with absurd and utterly infuriating, unfounded, comments such as "But if the Factory were to take the women in the company seriously".’

The points about female discrimination, made by myself and others, are not unfounded or absurd. I have counted the number of Factory opportunities for men and women over the last two and a half years, purely in an attempt to defend my position, as people clearly don’t believe there is an issue to even discuss. It's upsetting to see the actual figures so far.

Opportunities (This is the total opportunities for actors, directors and new writers involved in Factory projects. If an actor has been cast in two separate projects, they have been counted twice. If they have been involved in a project as a writer and as an actor, they have been counted twice.)
Men - 125
Women – 62

Supporting roles (This is the number of times in 7 recent Seagull shows, and the 5 York Hamlet shows that actors present at the show did not play a main role)
Men – 16
Women – 54

So you see. Twice the opportunities for men compared to women. Women who do make it into a squad are three times more likely to play bit parts or just watch.

There has not been a single project where the representation of women has been equal to that of men as actors, writers or directors – not even either of the genderless new writing projects.

I’m not writing this to throw s**t at the company, or hurt anyone. Just it’s the truth, and I don’t appreciate being shouted down by a management who have ignored the issue since it first came up about two years ago.

If the company puts product above and beyond squad morale, equality and open discussion, then it’s not a company I want to be in. It’s not the company I thought I joined.

This may sound ungrateful as I’ve been offered more than most by The Factory. But
this isn’t about me. It’s about the company being the best it can be.

My decision to leave is final. Not one taken lightly, and one that I really don’t want to lose friends over.

Thank you to The Factory and everyone individually for making the last two and a half years amazing.

The work and friendship have been the stuff of dreams.

Much love,
Bedi

Response to Catherine & A Writer's thoughts stimulated by 50/50

FayeThomas — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 07:40:10 CST

You said everything, Ms Bailey. But in the spirit of feeding back... and as someone who normally stays quiet in most debates, I have some stuff to say as well..

Having been involved in the Factory's New Writing projects since October 2007 - initially as an excited actress and later in 2008 as an unexpected and rather shy writer still finding her feet as I got John & Steff to strip for me and make-out with eachother in 'reunion' for round one…. I felt and still feel incredibly privileged to be invited to work with such a talented, driven and intelligent group of people... I am one of the factory's most passionate cheerleaders. I will rant inarticulately at any given opportunity… if anyone uses the word ‘cult’ or ‘gimmick’ in reference to the factory, I will fiercely jump to its defence. I think the factory has something going for it that other (rival or similar) companies lack – this is a sort of ‘purity of intention’ or something that I can’t quite put my finger on… something set out with selfless intentions… done for love not money… not pandering to the desires of a bigger theatrical body… or seeking purely to further the individual careers of its members, like a glorified showcase… and when comparing the factory to other similar companies (that I won’t name), I state these for the reasons why the factory has been so successful where other companies have eventually fallen apart through artistic dispute… or simply a lack of some core charisma and passion to keep them together… and keep people excited. Eventually the clarity of their initial manifesto had become muddied, and people lost interest. Of course, you can’t please everyone… and when it comes to finalising a project – decisions have to be made – some people will be gutted, others will be thrilled. Producing. Casting. It’s the way it goes. And we’ve known that from the start. I’m not remotely upset that my writing didn’t make the final cut or that I’ve not been cast in this project. I would like to make it clear that that is most definitely NOT the source of my vague sense of unease here...

If there is any theme that runs through the various different projects that the factory does, it seems to be a championing of bravery… cutting away from bullsh*t… making active choices… and affecting other people in a direct, uncomplicated sort of way… or maybe it’s not, maybe everyone takes something completely different away from the work that the factory does. I know for certain that working with the factory has changed me as an actor. Dramatically, in fact. Although as is the case in this industry (according to a search of spotlight tonight, actresses with a playing age of 16-30 outnumber their male counterparts 13073 to 9650), young female actresses are 10-a-penny… and we very rarely get to stretch our wings beyond the stereotypes that are penned for us by the men who write the scripts we audition for. The majority of plays currently on in the west-end are written by men. Last year, Rebecca Lenkiewicz (incidentally, my favourite playwright) became the FIRST EVER LIVING FEMALE WRITER to have a play staged in the National's largest auditorium, the Olivier. Last year. 2008. And the play was about suffragettes. That's what it takes to get heard? That’s how far we’ve come? Historically, the majority of published playwrights are men. Therefore the majority of leading roles are written for men, by men. And here we are, a company, of which I believe a majority of its core (by core, I mean those who have been coming week in, week out for a long time, as and when they can… and are generally called upon as reliable bets for being around, or being willing to help out) are young women… and here we find ourselves, once again, without a voice. This is a comment… not a complaint.

We’re not asking for positive discrimination. And I don’t think I’m even aiming these thoughts specifically at those who’ve made the decisions on this project. But merely the small number of plays that were to be selected, and the balance of writers and actors chosen from those who were available, served to highlight a sad imbalance which is normally taken for granted in this industry. I’ve always felt that one of the best things about the factory is the vast range of individual people involved… and the balance between our characters somehow seems to work to keep it stable – age, gender, pack order and background aside, we share a common love for working in this way, being constantly challenged… and we can each bring something different to the table… that’s why it’s always been such an exciting company to be part of. I hope that this balance will remain strong… and I hope that out of the frustration felt by some female writers, more creativity will be born… and maybe we can start to fill this massive void of a represented voice in the industry as a whole.

- Fx

PS: sorry to dedicate a whole page to my feminist rant, but the thread word limit wanted to cut me off.

PPS: All that said, if it weren't for the factory, I would never have an opportunity to have any of my writing heard or explored... I didn't even consider myself a 'sort-of-writer' until Tim coerced me into writing more stuff for the radio drama project earlier this year... and like Catherine, the encouragement I've received has been invaluable.

FactoryMember

TimEvans — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 13:37:49 CST


FactoryMember is a social network, consisting of all actors, directors and writers working with The Factory. Here you will find archive resources of sessions, discussions and work taking place at The Factory, as well as up-to-the-minute online forums. Online Membership is open to all. This allows anyone to access and contribute to the content and discussions on the site. So sign up and join in wherever you may be in the world. We encourage you to maintain and contribute to Factorymember and develop it as a community of creative minds working within the industry. IMPORTANT Please Note: Online Membership of FactoryMember does not mean access to The Factory Sessions and Studios. If you would like to Sign Up as an Online Member, register here under your real, professional or Equity name and create your profile. Please ensure you add a profile photo and tell us about yourself! The more information you provide in your profile the more chance there is to connect with the company and its work.

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50/50 Friday 30th October Hampstead Theatre

SteveBloomer — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 11:32:10 CST

Hi,

I wasn't sure if anyone was tasked with blogging the show from Friday so thought, for the record, I'd at least make a note of the pieces and running order and who played.

Underwater Love

Colin Hurley
Alan Morrissey

The Poll Tax Riots

Liz Richardson
Tyne Rafaeli
Dean I-just-realised-i'm-not-sure-of-his-last-name-yet-so-I'll-call-him Debutantte

Tomatoes

Rhys Meredith
Simon Muller

1975

Elena Pavli
Jonathon Oliver

Assistance

Catherine Bailey
Alex Blake
Alan Morrissey

Underwater Love (Reprise)

Alan Morrissey
Colin Hurley

Underwater love was played again with the roles reversed as a surprise at the end of the evening.

Boiling Frogs Line Changes 29th October 2009

SteveBloomer — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 07:30:52 CST

Line Changes for Boiling Frogs 29.10.09

Note these are script changes from the copy dated 26.7.09.

I’d prefer it for now if you would all copy these onto your scripts as I don’t want to make you print yet another version out and I will continue to make changes as we get to run longer sections so there’s no point in printing a new version yet anyway. After the showings, before the intensives, it may be worth-while.

Can I also take this chance to reiterate my thanks for your patience and understanding in making these changes - this is a growing piece of work. I've been writing this play for three years now and so many times I thought it was 'done'; your generosity in helping me push it further is humbling.

PG 5 Change the Policeman's line four from the top that starts 'Look in that mirror' entirely to this:

Mark: Whatever you say officer.
Policeman: Look in those mirrors. You know what's behind that glass? That's your audience. Oh yes. There's people back there who can see and hear everything that's going on. Judge you. Form opinions. Get you down on tape. Little eyes and little lenses, little cameras, and everything you do in here, every thing, is evidence. You think about that. I'll be back in a minute.

PG 6 replace the stage direction "The policeman gets the desk and starts to fold out the legs and put it in place" with "The policeman sets up the interview room." So the following section is the opportunity for the Policeman to set the room up however they want.

pg 8 Cut the Policeman's "Here. This ought to do it" at the top of the page.

PG 11 POLICEMAN Near the top of the page. Cut the bit in bold
Policeman: Mark Stone...It says here it's your birthday. Congratulations. How old are you? Nevermind What else does it say? Ah yes... (rest of the speech continues as is)

PG 12 Mark's line We all need arrests, officer.' Cut 'officer' So it is just 'We all need arrests.'

PG 17 Just under half way down, change Mark's 'You haven't got a charge' to 'You haven't got a charge, Serg.'

PG 18 Half way down, change Mark's "Why would they?" to "Why would they want to watch this?"

PG 19 About five lines from the bottom change Mark's "Listen, I'm sorry. I've said I'm sorry." to "I'm sorry. Ok? I'm sorry."

PG 27 Half way down change the sergeant's line "It just happens to be enhanced with a pneumatic drill." To "It just happens to be enhanced with a big f*****g drill."

PG 34 Tom Half way down. Cut entirely the line that starts 'Benjamin Franklin wasn't fighting Al Qaida...' and replace with 'But we need laws.'

PG 36 Cut the bits in bold!
Gandhi: That's ok. This must have been what it was like for Nelson Mandela.
So the line is now: ‘Gandhi: This must be what it was like for Nelson Mandela.’

PG 38 Gandhi In the line 'What about when they told you you were going to be tortured?' Change 'told you' to 'said' So the line now reads 'What about when they said you were going to be tortured?'

PG 39
Sergeant’s speech at the bottom of the page change to "For a number of years we have removed (cut ‘been removing’) trial by jury in cases deemed (cut ‘either’) too serious or too trivial to be judged by the general public. We prefer to get judges... (cut ‘When possible.’)

Last line Tom change to "We really don't care about justice."

pg 40 Five lines up add in to Tom's line "They're not. You're fu*ked mate."

pg 41 Change the Policeman's 'Obviously' in his speech about the different ways of executing someone to 'as you well know.' So it reads "Well, Jesus, there's a number of ways. Crucifixion, as you well know, hanging..."

PG 42
Half way down. Swap the order of Mark and Gandhi's lines 'Give it here if you can't see it.' and 'Let me get my glasses.' So Gandhi's line comes before Mark's, directly after Mark says 'What does it say on the paper - does it say anything on the piece of paper?'

PG 43
CUT THESE TWO LINES

GANDHI: There's nothing else, just formalities.
Mark: The formalities are the most serious thing. That one of us is going to be executed is a formality. That one of us is going to spend the rest of our lives behind bars is a formality. Read the ******* formalities.

So it goes from 'Mark: What do you mean pretty much?' to 'Gandhi: 'This is a classified...'

PG 44
Cut 5 lines from Mark 'I don't understand how this has happened' (nr top of the page) to Gandhi 'You don't know that.' After that there are so many changes I am just going to write it out. So it now runs:

Gandhi: It's not going to change, is it?
Mark: This is ridiculous, they've got to let us know.
(To the mirror) Hello? We need to talk to you. Hello?
Gandhi: You said no one was watching.
Mark: What else can we do?
Tom: Oy! Is there anybody out there?
Mark: Will somebody f*****g listen?
Tom: Hey! You. What are you playing at?
Mark: Who gets what?
Tom: Are you just going to sit there?
Mark: Do something.
Tom: Listen to us you bastards!
Mark: Don't you care?
Tom: Hello?
Mark: Hello?
Tom: Can somebody come in here?
Gandhi lets out a long, long scream at the mirror

PG 45
Change Tom's line 'It's one of you. I hate to say it but I think it's definitely one of you.' to TOM: Let's think about this logically. The way I see it it's got to be one of you. One of you's getting executed. One of you's getting sent down.’

Cut Tom 'At the end of the day you two are protestors, I'm a policeman. It's got to be one of you. Replace with:

Mark: Look at me. I'm in Lycra for Christ's sake.
Tom: I'm getting released.
Mark: You don't know that.
Tom: They're not going to execute me.
Gandhi: I'm not getting executed.

Page 46
Mark's line at the top of the page, under the stage direction 'Back to the mirror'. Cut the bit in Bold:

Mark: (Hey! Hello?) Can somebody please do something? This is a disgrace.

Then, half way down, Gandhi's line 'You killed someone? (Cut ‘f*****g hell’.) This gets better and better.'

Then Cut the next two lines - "Tom: It was all blown out of proportion. / Mark: What happened?"

Then three lines later Tom's line: ‘Give me those. Cut 'I don't want to talk about it. They're sorting it out.'

Three lines later. Cut Tom "They're not going to do anything to me!" So the line starts with 'I'm a policeman...'

Page 47
Tom's line (7 lines from top) Change to 'I was on duty, (cut 'there was') a gang of lads (Cut 'that') surrounded me, they started causing some trouble (cut 'I asked them to stop, they didn't) and I over-reacted.'

Mark - About half way down cut 'You killed someone' and change 'that' to 'this' so the line reads 'What's this got to do with nobility.'

The first line of Tom's chunk change 'the rest of my group had gone into the shop' to 'the rest of my group had gone into the chicken shop.'

Page 48
Mark change 'Oh God' to 'Wait'
Four lines from the bottom. Mark’s line Cut the bit in bold:

Mark: They're not going to let you off. They started riots because of his death. I was there, I saw them.

Next line, Tom, cut the bit in bold

Tom: It doesn't make me a terrorist. I'm a policeman. I was a young policeman doing my job and he was a mouthy little ****.

PG 49
Give Gandhi's 'Well...' at the top of the page to Mark. So Mark's line at the top of the page reads 'Did they say it to you? Well? Did they?'

Gandhi's line four from the top. Add in the bit in bold:

Gandhi: They said it was a suspicion. In my interview they said it was a suspicion. They said they found things at your picnic. Suspicious things. They said they foudn suspicious materials.

A few lines down change the syntax in Gandhi's line about the bombs so now it reads.

Gandhi: Yes you did. You could've made a bomb from your picnic hamper if you wanted, it's easy.

At the end of the same line change 'I'm sure I saw apples.' to Did you have apples?

Change Mark's reply 'Yeah', to 'It was a picnic.'

Next line cut Gandhi's 'Perfect.' (So the line starts 'Get about twelve ounces of apple seeds...)

Gandhi - A few lines down cut the bits in bold.

Gandhi: I used to make them when I was a kid. Only Little ones. My Dad was a chemistry teacher. when he was younger. It's really easy. If they wanted to say you were going to make a bomb they could.

pg 51 Change TOM's 'Don't lie to me' which is about 9 lines up to 'You're lying.' (NB this is the second, 'Don't lie to me' not the one higher up)

pg 52 From Tom's line 'You weren't there for the protest' Cut the bits in bold, and add in the bit in italics.

Tom: You weren't there for the protest. You had a bomb didn't you? What was it? Homemade? Did you sit in your flat with your sick little Paki Dad coughing and wheezing next to you while you wired it up? 'It's alright Dad, I'll make them listen, I'll make them pay for this. Was that how it was? Homemade, stick a few nails in there just to be sure?
Mark: You're going to get me killed. They'll think I organised it. You know that, right?
Gandhi: F**k you.
Mark: Things like this; it This takes away everything I've worked for. Everything I've done.

PG 56 Tom's last line 'Right. Well. Sorry Mark. I don't really know what to say.' Cut 'Good luck.' and replace with 'Chin up.'

Pg 57 last line 'Fear and confusion at my place in this (not an) increasingly bizarre world.'

This may not be the clearest document in the world, my apologies. It’s quite hard to transcribe these cuts, and in doing the blogs I’ve tried a number of different ways so there’s a slight mish-mash here. Any questions e-mail me on stevenbloomer@hotmail.com and I’ll clarify.

Please get on top of lines as much as possible from now on. We would like them learnt for the December intensives. Alex mentioned that the plan for the remaining sessions (after next week’s fight call) will be to work back through the play in order over the three weeks, so attempting to be off book for those each week may help.

Steve x

Boiling Frogs Session 21

SteveBloomer — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 10:58:23 CDT

A lovely big group this week, Colin, Jethro, Tristan, Ben, Paul, Damian, John, Alan, Portia, Alex and myself. Lots of hugs.

The intention this week was to finish the first sweep through the play. We looked at sections 28, 30-34 and finally, perversely, section 8.

Notes

Remember the blame ball, the ball of blame. If the police walk in, as they could at any moment, you don't want to be caught holding it.

An extenstion of the anthisesis exercise - literally moving further into or away from subjects as you talk.

It's important here to remeber to play solutions, not problems. IE Don't complain about the situation, change it. Giving someone an unfocussed bundle of your emotions is not going to help, a clear argument will. This isn't to say you won't have emotions. Lines like 'f*****g hell' are not just exclamations, they are there to change something.

Rule reality. This is a cosmic arugment. Your performative speech has real power, the words you say on stage can really change things, by saying something (i.e. I'm getting realeased) you can make it so. By arguing better than everyone else you will confirm your safety.

Section 8 - see if you can tease out of each other their true feeling, behind their great game playing.

Line Changes

Jethro suggested I make a combined page of line changes, which I will do and paste here. For those that are up to date, here are the ones for today's session. There are some I didn't bother mentioning in rehearsal so check.

PG 44 (Section 27) Cut 5 lines from Mark 'I don't understand how this has happened' (nr top of the page) to Gandhi 'You don't know that.' So it now runs

Gandhi: It's not going to change, is it?
Mark: This is ridiculous, they've got to let us know.

PG 45 Change Tom's line 'It's one of you. I hate to say it but I think it's definitely one of you.' to TOM: Let's think about this logically. The way I see it it's got to be one of you. One of you's getting executed. One of you's getting sent down.

pg 45 Cut Tom 'At the end of the day you two are protestors, I'm a policeman. It's got to be one of you. Replace with:

Mark: Look at me. I'm in Lycra for Christ's sake.
Tom: I'm getting released.
Mark: You don't know that.
Tom: They're not going to execute me.
Gandhi: I'm not getting executed.

PG 46 Mark's line at the top of the page, under the stage direction 'Back to the mirror'. Cut the bit in Bold.

Hey! Hello? Can somebody please do something? This is a disgrace.

pg 49 Gandhi's line four from the top. Add in the bit in bold

Gandhi: They said it was a suspicion. In my interview they said it was a suspicion. They said they found things at your picnic. Suspicious things. They said they foudn suspicious materials.

A few lines down change the syntax in Gandhi's line about the bombs so now it reads.

Gandhi: Yes you did. You could've made a bomb from your picnic hamper if you wanted, it's easy.

At the end of the same line change 'I'm sure I saw apples.' to Did you have apples?

Change Mark's reply 'Yeah', to 'It was a picnic.'

Next line cut Gandhi's 'Perfect.' (So the line starts 'Get about twelve ounces of apple seeds...)

Gandhi - A few lines down cut the bits in bold.

Gandhi: I used to make them when I was a kid. Only Little ones. My Dad was a chemistry teacher when he was younger. It's really easy. If they wanted to say you were going to make a bomb they could.

pg 51 Change TOM's 'Don't lie to me' which is about 9 lines up to 'You're lying.' (NB this is the second, 'Don't lie to me' not the one higher up)

pg 52 From Tom's line 'You weren't there for the protest' Cut the bits in bold, and add in the bit in italics.

Tom: You weren't there for the protest. You had a bomb didn't you? What was it? Homemade? Did you sit in your flat with your sick little Paki Dad coughing and wheezing next to you while you wired it up? 'It's alright Dad, I'll make them listen, I'll make them pay for this. Was that how it was? Homemade, stick a few nails in there just to be sure?
Mark: You're going to get me killed. They'll think I organised it. You know that, right?
Gandhi: **** you.
Mark: Things like this; it This takes away everything I've wored for. Everything I've done.

PG 56 Tom's last line 'Right. Well. Sorry Mark. I don't really know what to say.' Cut 'Good luck.' and replace with 'Chin up.'

PG 12 Mark's line We all need arrests, officer.' Cut 'officer' So it is just 'We all need arrests.'

PG 5 Change the Policeman's line four from the top that starts 'Look in that mirror' entirely to this:

Mark: Whatever you say officer.
Policeman: Look in those mirrors. You know what's behind that glass? That's your audience. Oh yes. There's people back there who can see and hear everything that's going on. Judge you. Form opinions. Get you down on tape. Little eyes and little lenses, little cameras, and everything you do in here, every thing, is evidence. You think about that. I'll be back in a minute.

Thanks so much for your patience and understanding in making these changes - this is a growing piece of work. I've been writing this play for three years now and so many times I thought it was 'done'; your generosity it helping me push it further is humbling. Thanks.

Toys

NAlderton — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 20:47:12 CDT

Released to coincide with the 50/50 - Daring Pairings collaboration with The Hampstead Theatre.

Following on from Fracture, Nic Alderton developed Join The Dots, a toy to stimulate creativity in writers.

Join The Dots creates a script with holes and challenges you to fill them in.

In order to do this, it needs a repository of exciting lines - and you can supply them. Take a look at Join The Dots, see how it works and then add some lines of your own. The richer the repository of material, the more useful and intriguing is the toy.

Thanks!

Join The Dots

NAlderton — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 19:29:51 CDT

Join The Dots is a theatrical writing toy which followed the development of Fracture, also available here on the site. Join The Dots takes a random selection of lines, spreads them out across a selection of characters through a few pages of script and challenges you to fill in the blanks.

You can also add your own lines to expand Join The Dots' repertoire. Try to add lines that work in context.

Have fun.

Fracture

NAlderton — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 19:20:52 CDT

During the course of the 50/50 Daring Pairings workshop session, Nic Alderton developed a small application for writers inspired by some of the workshop discoveries.

You can read more about Fracture in Nic's blog: here.

It has been included here on the site to allow writers to play with it.

Boiling Frogs Session 20

SteveBloomer — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 05:15:04 CDT

Subtitle: Oh, that's what Alex was talking about!

We welcome Dean!

In this session we explored further the idea that 'You Play Chess Until You Box.' We've been bandying this idea around for a few weeks but I felt we hit on something useful here, that the difference is between covert and overt actions. Sometimes we want the other people in the scene to know we are trying to have an effect on them, threaten them, challenge them, tease them, antagonise them or whatever. But sometimes we don't. Alex's example is of picking up girls - sometimes we want to them to know we are interested. Sometimes we want to keep our flirting under the radar, so we can't get caught out! Similarly, when talking to someone sometimes we want to show that we know what they're up to, that they are attempting to change us, and sometimes we want them to think we remain ignorant of their tactics. Recognising an action, a threat or a challenge for example, can both amplify it and destroy its power.

Section 6

We started by trying to make all our actions covert by saying 'What? I'm not doing anything, I'm just saying...' before every line. We were trying not to get caught.

When we were obviously playing something the listener was asked to call us out by saying 'No you're...' and naming the action, or saying 'No, you're doing something.' Pretty soon we refined this to merely 'Caught you.'

It was noted that we are almost always aware that the other person is trying to influence us, as of course they always are, but that sometimes the action was so covert we can't quite call them on it, or sometimes we feel it is the smarter move not to. This is the chess approach. When we felt this we were asked to say 'Ok.'

So, on each line the person tried to play their action without us noticing, and if we felt they were too overt we called them on it by saying 'Caught you' and if we felt we couldn't quite pin them on it we let it slide with an 'Ok'. After being 'caught' the speaker had two choices, to deny it and say 'What? I'm not doing anything I'm just saying...' and repeat the line again trying to be more covert, to appear more neutral and simply helpful to the other person. Or they could say 'Yes, I'm saying...' and repeat the line playing the action even stronger, more overtly. This is where boxing comes in. We played the scene developing this game and then played it without the extra words, but keeping an awareness of the implications of how covert or overt the other person was being.

Section 9

We got more subtle here, as the listener was asked to give a covert look to the audience whenever they were aware of the action being played on them. We started to allow the speaker more choices, as before each line they could choose to be overt by saying 'I'm laying my cards on the table...' and saying the line, or just say the line without this declaration - covertly hiding their action under the guise of the conversation.

Section 7

We started pushing the boat out in terms of the levels of our overtness and covertness. These covert actions are tricky - as Ben pointed out you can't play two things at once. If your line appears threatening, but you say it as helpfully and sensatively as you can, it may well be deemed as a veiled threat. But the speaker is only doing one thing, trying to set the other person at ease say, or befriend them. So choosing to be covert or overt is also about choosing when we play against the text, and noticing when we are in the same place as the line and when we are not.

LINE CHANGE

PG 11 POLICEMAN
Near the top of the page. Cut the bit in bold

Policeman: Mark Stone...It says here it's your birthday. Congratulations. How old are you? Nevermind What else does it say? Ah yes... (rest of the speech continues as is)

Section 27 - just after the sentences have been given and the police have left the cell

Some notes form Alex:

Remember what you're talking about. One of you is going to be executed.

The blame game. People may be watching. You do not want the blame to be on you for long. It is important to shift it on to the other people to protect yourself.

Time pressure. You don't know how long you have.

Hunt the knowledge. You'll get the answer quicker as a team. Help one another find a solution to the problem. Preferably one that incriminates them and exonerates you.

An interesting point here about staging, and I'm sure we'll find many other examples elsewhere. Gandhi reads the document. This we know for sure. And we know that until he has read it (and for Mark even later as he asks if Gandhi is certain it doesn't say on the next page) that Mark and Tom haven't also read it first. Everything else is up for grabs. So Tom or Mark can pick up the document before Gandhi reads it or after but if they get it before Gandhi they must find a reason to hand it to him to read instead of reading it themselves, an active reason, rather than just handing it to him.

LINE CHANGES
PG 42
Half way down. Swap the order of Mark and Gandhi's lines 'Give it here if you can't see it.' and 'Let me get my glasses.' So Gandhi's line comes before Mark's, directly after Mark says 'What does it say on the paper - does it say anything on the piece of paper?'

PG 43

CUT THESE TWO LINES

GANDHI: There's nothing else, just formalities.
Mark: The formalities are the most serious thing. That one of us is going to be executed is a formality. That one of us is going to spend the rest of our lives behind bars is a formality. Read the ******* formalities.

So it goes from 'Mark: What do you mean pretty much?' to 'Gandhi: 'This is a classified...'

PG 47

So many changes here I'm just going to write out the new text for you to replace/change the old. Starting with Mark's line to the mirror which used to read '(To the mirror) Hey! Hello? We need to talk to you. Hello?' and going down to Gandhi's scream. It now goes like this.

Mark: (To the mirror) Hello? We need to talk to you. Hello?
Gandhi: You said no one was watching.
Mark: What else can we do?
Tom: Oy! Is there anybody out there?
Mark: Will somebody f*****g listen?
Tom: Hey! You. What are you playing at?
Mark: Who gets what?
Tom: Are you just going to sit there?
Mark: Do something.
Tom: Listen to us you bastards!
Mark: Don't you care?
Tom: Hello?
Mark: Hello?
Tom: Can somebody come in here?
Gandhi lets out a long, long scream at the mirror

That's all folks. I'm not here next week so have fun.

About Face

NAlderton — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 03:18:35 CDT

Back in drama school the first role I played was that of Pentheus, torn apart after invoking the rage of Dionysus by the god’s ecstatic worshippers. So, be gentle, Maenads.

I feel eminently disqualified from responding to any of this because I’m male, old, included in the selection, white, atheist, apolitical and I wear glasses. The only thing I have going for me is that I didn’t attend university. Is that enough? Is that enough?

My tendency here is to widen the debate. So as long as we are confessing things:

Age

I sometimes lie about my age.

Every time I come across an ‘initiative for new writers/film-makers/directors’ - or even the plethora of competitions that arrive in my inbox every week courtesy of Film London (if you’re into film, sign up: http://www.filmlondon.org.uk/) - the leap of joy in my heart stumbles when I read in the small print ‘Under 25’s’, ‘Young Film-makers Only’, ’17 And Under’. I have never, not once, seen an initiative for the over 35’s.

It is as if we don’t need the encouragement. By now, as Fed alluded to, the assumption is that you’ve either made it or you’ve given up.

And yet... one of the most interesting projects a friend of mine is currently researching, to be shot as a documentary next year (with state funding, no less), is a study of some of the oldest women in the local community. Despite this epoch seemingly idolising neoteny; both intellectually, as demonstrated by the cacophonous orgies of light and noise wrapped around jejune myths Hollywood calls movies; and physically, as people, men and women both, depilate, rhinoplastify and botox themselves into the forms of children, hoping to escape death; she is spending her time tracing some of the elders of the community, repositories of wisdom and knowledge, giving them voices, recording their experiences, honouring and cherishing them.

When I was little, at a party, an established playwright was holding forth. My father nudged me forward and told him, ‘My son is trying to be a writer.’ The playwright fixed upon me a withering gaze. ‘Young people can’t write,’ he pronounced. ‘That’s not true,’ I said, my cheeks burning. ‘We can write, we just don’t have anything to say.’ I think I saw a smile at the edge of his mouth.

Now I know this would carry more weight, and sound less self-serving, if I was saying it at 14, but the voices of our elders should be revered and encouraged just as much as those of our youth. It wasn’t always that the older you get, the less relevant you become. I think this tendency is turning, particularly where I live, where the older members of the community are held as mines of information about the past, about herbal lore, agricultural understanding, et al, not to mention about human nature.

I’ve already made a commitment to live to 160, so I’m only now just getting to grips with what I want to do with my life; you know, settling down, establishing a career path, getting focused; but not everyone is as gleefully self-delusional. In the murderous ecosystem of the city, if you’re in the wilderness of your mid-40’s and trying to break in then trust me, you whippersnappers, you are invisible. There are no equivalent superlative headlines for us, no ‘Most Middle-Aged Ever Novelist Published’. You’d better not just write, but write five times as well, make ten times the effort, because you have nothing else going for you than your words. And Dionysus help you if you are a middle-aged actress. If you think there are few challenging roles for young women, in that wind-swept wasteland even my dearest 50 year old friends wander hopelessly, eyeing with suspicion offers of ‘Grandma’, ‘Friend’ and ‘Nurse’.

What is young, anyway? Why are there no dramaturgical bursaries for 85 year olds?

Dionysus was also known as Eleutherios, the Liberator, he who freed one from one’s normal self; the self constructed from assumptions, the self that dwelt within the confines of civilisation. Yet despite, this he was considered a promoter of civilisation. He was also the patron saint of the theatre.

Sex

I spell my first name ambiguously for a reason.

Here’s an interesting result on Google:

https://www.pwcenter.org/~pwcenter/opportunities.php?c=7&s=Eng

You can filter opportunities in various ways, by medium (short plays, 10 minute plays etc) by location and also by race. You can filter opportunities for ‘Women Authors’, but not by ‘Men Authors’. Is this because there are far too many opportunities for us? Would I want to enter a competition restricted to male only authors? Would anyone dare to run such a competition?

There’s an International Centre For Women Playwrights (http://www.womenplaywrights.org/) but no International Centre For Men Playwrights (ironically, a Google search helpfully asks: ‘Did you mean: international centre for women playwrights?’)

I’m being facetious, I suppose. But Catherine, and Faye in her response, raise a need to examine two distinct areas: the challenges faced by women writing and the challenges of writing for women. The first global, industrial, in need of revolution, the second personal and the work of every writer.

Interestingly the whole brief of 50/50 forced writers to focus on creating characters that must, by their very nature, withstand being played by both men and women. That opportunity contains a trap: you could write characters that are sexless, mere ciphers that can be wielded by actors to serve a theatrical structure. Or, you could take it as an opportunity to write characters that are sufficiently complex and that leave off the sociological assumptions of gender, in such a way that by being played by men or women not merely works but further imbues them with subtle but fascinating depth, as if one were shining differently coloured lights through the same crystal, and revealing hitherto unseen structures and flaws. I had that experience during Round One, as I will explain.

Here’s an interesting thing I learned whilst on a visit to the Pergamonmuseum, Berlin, about the evolution of the image of Dionysus in Grecian art. He wasn’t always a swarthy, bearded god surrounded by ecstatic women. That depiction came later. In the beginning he was a soft, voluptuous ambiguity, both male and female. In art ‘he’ was thus depicted. In text ‘he’ was described as ‘man-womanish’.

Words

One, tiny, barely stapes-sized bone of contention: I put words in no-one’s mouth. I place them on paper and you can choose to speak them or not.

Of course the overarching criticism is that the entire theatrical infrastructure is dominated by a selection committee inherently male; and it is through their choices that women are asked to perform the words of men; that is a valid issue to be explored. However you may be interested to know that in a parallel industry, that of publishing, the majority of gatekeepers; editors, agents, buyers; are women. As someone with pretensions in that field it is something I have learned I should bear in mind but not feel intimidated by.

But from down here in the gutter with the rest of us, sharing pen nibs and scraps of parchment, all of that is irrelevant. We are all writers, we are all evolving and learning together. Those of you who say you are not writers are liars. As Faye and Catherine explained, it’s not a thing you are, it’s a thing you do and, with Fed’s encouragement, they did. The more you do, the better you get. Further, the particular genius of The Factory is that it provides actors the opportunity to be writers-in-the-moment, either explicitly as when performing in The Seagull, or at a more subtle level when taking on roles without prior preparation.

The reason I started to write was not so much a desire to have others perform my work, but because I couldn’t find anyone writing the sort of things I wanted to perform. This contention was much more thematic and stylistic, since I have very clear ideas about what I want to see on stage and no-one I knew was doing it. In order to do that, though, one needs to become comfortable with first principles.

So to address this idea of male writers who furnish women with stereotypical roles, or roles in which they cannot exercise their talents; and, indeed, female writers who do men the same injustice; here’s my rule of thumb:

Any writer, male or female, who fails to provide in their characters full, engaging, complex and challenging roles is not exhibiting sexist bias but bad writing. For me that is a more profound and shattering criticism than one of gender assumptions.

One of the discussions during the 50/50 workshops was of how roles could, or should, be played by both men and women. I recounted an experience I had had during Round One, last year.

I brought along several pieces; The Dialogues, a gender neutral set of duologues; The Misunderstanding, a duologue with a male and female character; and A Quick Myth, specifically written for two women.

Working on these various pieces with three brilliant actors, Kate A, Lucy C, Joanna C, I discovered something intriguing. Whilst the characters in Myth and Dialogues work reasonably well because their themes are heightened to the point of the mythological, The Misunderstanding was specifically written for a man and women, the story specifically gender biased, the themes specifically addressing undertones of sexuality, longing, rejection. What happened when both roles were played by women?

It got better.

As I alluded to above, the roles I had seen as male and female were suddenly illuminated in a new light. Entirely new resonances in their relationship, entirely new, more dangerous areas opened up. Assumptions about the extra-textual world shifted kaleidoscopically. And I wrote the bloody thing.

Does this mean we should all write gender neutral roles? No, I don’t think so. I think it means we should write for human beings, rather than ciphers. We should write better people. Willy Russell, one male author who does write profound female characters, revealed he got his insights as a child, hiding under the kitchen table, listening to his mother, aunts and their friends talking. There is no invisible barrier between male and female insight into each other’s worlds, except when created by our assumptions and those imposed upon us. If we tear apart these assumptions, all that remains is endless exploration and encouragement. For this reason our respective muses are our consorts: a woman has her animus, a man his anima. We each have within us the capacity to step between these worlds. Our goal is to become whole.

Other names for Dionysus include: Dithyrambos, The Double Door; and Sabazios, The Shatterer. Pentheus was torn apart because he banned the worship of Dionysus - his cousin - the androgynous God of ecstasy and civilisation, the forest and the theatre. Pentheus means ‘man of sorrows’.

Debate

I think James’ questions are valid, vital and worthy of exploration. I’m also of the opinion that debate is delicious; action, ecstatic.

What about a future project that calls for submissions from men and women, from younger and older voices, that demands parts written for characters female, male and those in between, for juvenile and mature parts? Then the game is to cross-cast them, to rehearse them, to provide feedback about them, not in order to chastise the writers about their gender or age assumptions but to explore the idea of fully fleshed out characters.

It will be uncomfortable and challenging, I would imagine. Painful. Insulting on occasion. But, by Dionysus, richly rewarding.

Steven Bloomer's rather foolhardy attempt to look at the on-going 50/50 gender debate

SteveBloomer — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 19:05:16 CDT

Prologue

I'll be honest, I've been tempted a number of times to post a response to some of the entries prompted by Catherine's '50/50 from an actor's POV' posting, and the replies it has generated. I even typed something out recently only to delete it. This is a sensitive area and I don't want to piss anyone off. Neither Alex and Tim nor Fed nor Bailey nor anyone. I will most probably want to work with/drink with/sleep with/look eye to eye with anyone of you. But, as I think I say at the end of this, I think open conversation and exploration is most probably the only weapon we have to guard against any perceived bias the company has to contend with.

One final note. It is tiresome to preface every sentence with 'in my opinion' and to end it with 'for what that's worth/for all anyone cares what I think.' So please accept in advance that all I say is offered humbly, at times with great doubt and always with great love.

At the end of Fed and John D's last post the idea of anonymous submissions was floated, which is what got me writing this evening, so that's where I'll start.

Act One

Anonymous entry is neither possible nor desirable I think. They are a little like those amnesty bins the police have for guns and knives and stuff - they manage to be simultaneously a good, proactive response to a problem and a damning indictment of the world that created it. I thought one of our aims was to create a better world, at least among ourselves. And that means open debate, open criticism, or in our evolving lingo open busting and useful offers. There are more male plays than female selected (or at least more plays written by men, is that the same?), Hamlet and The Seagull have more male parts than female, Boiling Frogs has no female parts whatsoever and the factory has many brilliant female actors and writers. I'd like to point out in the case of Boiling Frogs that the play also has an asian character, and when we started rehearsals the factory had no asian actors in the company and now we have two great new regularly contributing members and a number of interested others (OK, Bedi kind of counts but I think claiming Sarah as an example of our racial diversity might be stretching it!)

Act Two

What am I saying? That this may link to a bigger idea. Should a theatre company, any company, have its artistic agenda dictated by the current composition of its members? Is there an implied responsibility on Alex and Tim to only pick projects that are reflective of the current membership of the company? Similarly do they have a duty to champion people, of either gender, choosing their work over others out of loyalty or a sense of fairness when it comes to casting projects or choosing plays? Or should they follow their own judgement at all times? Trying as best they can to guard against inherited or unconscious prejudice and making sure that the opportunities to explore are as open and free to everyone as possible, that everyone gets the same support, before making final decisions based on nothing but their own artistic taste. These are real questions, I have no answers and I think neither option is heinous. Some theatre companies have regular open meetings, at which everything from the finances to the artistic direction of the company is openly debated and voted upon by all its members. Others, such as Complicite, are united by common beliefs and a shared willingness to experiment but are ultimately guided by the tastes of a far smaller number. It is all a matter of taste. I think on this The Factory as a company are still finding their/our feet. It takes time.

Act Three

Do I think the tastes of the 50/50 selectors are biased? Furthermore do I think they are good/right as a representation of our best work? Am I in any position to comment as someone who has both been selected and is a man? (And isn’t it interesting that the only men stupid enough/brave enough to comment on this have all got pieces in the final selection. Maybe a little guilt going on? A little self justification perhaps?) Well, I haven't read the final drafts of the whole selection, I have barely considered the effect of the plays in a big theatre space as opposed to a rehearsal studio, I didn't for a moment consider the make-up of the selection in terms of variety or style of pieces, and I wasn't in the room with the Hampstead guys to hear their outside input on the work. So I'm not sure I can judge their decision. So where does that leave me?

Act Four

There is an act of faith that happens in every relationship, an act of trust to which we cannot defer to statistics or precedent to back us up, but must rely only on our conscience. To return to my opening simile: an awareness of this gender-bias concern may be the only weapon we ever have against it. Anonymous submissions are a cheap solution (and how would they work for casting, or the picking of future projects?), and in my opinion positive discrimination is patronising and places other concerns before the work. The work should come first. So we are left with this web site, with open debates online and in person, and our good faith in each other and in the people who make the hard decisions (not just Alex and Tim, but in this case Fed and all at the Hampstead too). I hope all would agree that everyone in this company has a right to have their voice heard, both artistically and in these conversations, and for being brave enough to speak up I sincerely hope (and believe it to be true) that people will only be encouraged and thanked for their contribution and that all voices (again artistically speaking and otherwise) are listened to with equal consideration. After that, when it comes to the decision making, I guess it is all a matter of good faith and taste.

Epilogue

Maybe that's not enough. I have no answers really, I guess nobody does, just these few thoughts which for all my good efforts remain as inevitably skewed by my own perspective as anybody else's. But I do believe open conversation is the key, which at least solves one question that has been nagging at me for the last hour or so - why the f**k did I even try responding to this?

With much love for all things Factory, especially this debate.

Steven Bloomer xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Johnny Donnelly's Response

NAlderton — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 07:21:08 CDT

This response by Johnny was submitted over several teeny replies. I've collated it for him into one full page. Hope you don't mind, Johnny. - nic.

Fed, you must rest assured, I am a man. And when women start to voice their thoughts, whether it is any of my business or not, I make it my business. This is the history of the world...

If any of you like sport you’ll know that statistics are never the whole story, but they tend to be worth a look.

I had a look at the archive for the 5 buildings in London that commission new writers - Royal Court, Hampstead, NT, Soho and Bush. Right or wrong, these tend to be thought of as the big 5 commissioning houses (I’m not equating big with either good or bad by the way, and whether these are actually the big 5 is debatable. There’s the Almeida for instance, but I only have a certain amount of time on my hands so there we go...).

I counted quickly and only included productions of about a week or more so this is pretty rough. If you look at new plays that opened this year, something like 42 were authored by men, 18 by women. Which is more than 2 to 1 in favour of the boys.

Here’s what I counted.

Hampstead 5m 5f
Royal Court 8m 5f (and one co-authored by a man and a woman)
Bush 9m 2f
NT 12m 3f
Soho 8m 3f

The two theatres who are closest to equality in terms of numbers – Hampstead and the Court –are both run by men.
If you look at the theatres with the most significant imbalance – Bush, NT and Soho – two are run by women, one by a man.

I have no idea what this means.

I didn’t included Paines Plough above cause they don’t have their own building and all their plays I think are included in the above numbers. They have a female artistic director, female literary associate and their writer in residence in female. Which means that if you look at these six major producing theatres, there’s an equal split of them being run by men and women. So it’s equal men and women who get to say what goes on and what doesn’t, generally. But it’s still 42-18.

I don’t know what this means either.

Interestingly (to me, anyway), until this month, Hampstead was 4-1 up, girls to boys (yes, it’s become a competition now – I’m a boy, I need these things to keep me interested). It’s only a late flurry of productions by men that evened out the numbers.

And no, I don’t know what this means either.

These aren’t the only theatres in London, or indeed the country that produce new plays. But certainly this year it’s nowhere near even in terms of plays produced by men and women. I suspect this is the case most years.

So why is this?

Are more plays submitted by men than women? I don’t know what the answer to that is either generally or at the Factory. Anecdotally, I would say from the script reading I’ve done for theatres that significantly more plays are submitted by men than women. Which could mean that the 42-18 is a fair reflection of the number of plays that are out there. But I have no facts to back this up at all.

Or are the criteria by which we judge ‘good’ writing skewed towards a boy’s way of thinking? I run a playwrighting MA and the basis or most of what we think of as Western writing is Aristotle (boy). Also Mamet’s a pretty big influence on ‘how to write’ (he’s about as ‘boy’ as you can get) and we owe a big debt to Pinter (pretty sure he’s a boy). Much writing theory focuses on the tactics by which we attempt to overcome the obstacles to our desires. Which is a pretty good place to start with writing as it goes but I do wonder if it’s a bit ‘boy’ in its conception of drama as a kind of sport. This is a question really. Is the way we think about plays a bit ‘boy’? I think you know what I mean by ‘boy’. It’s not the same as male or female.

Or maybe boys are just better at writing than girls? I’m tempted to suggest this is the case just for the perverse thrill of starting a big fight, but I just don’t believe it myself. Plus I’m a bit scared of the girls. I’m joking. Well, I’m not, but I am.

By joking I don’t mean to imply it’s not an important thing to talk about. It is. As if lower pay and workplaces geared towards men aren’t enough. Pshaw! 42 to 18 is a big difference. Maybe it actually is fair, but it certainly doesn’t look fair, and that’s worth thinking about.

It can be hard though, because if (as I’m suggesting might be the case) ‘boy’ thinking is ingrained into theatre culture, then how do we even know if we’re doing it? And even if we do suspect we might be programmed to praise ‘boy’ more than ‘girl’ then how do we stop? If I like a play I like a play I like a play. If I like play A more than play B because it has ‘boy’ qualities that through cultural indoctrination I’ve come to assume are ‘good’ qualities, and the level at which I make that assumption is so deep I’m not even aware I’m doing it, what am I supposed to do about it? Pretend I like play B because I think it’s the right thing to do?

Here’s another anecdote. I was recently commissioned by a theatre to write a play. I wrote the play. They liked the play, they accepted and optioned the play (this is the heavily abridged version, you understand?). They allocated a director. And pencilled in a slot in the theatre programme. This is good. It means someone is going to produce your play. It never means anything else. I was told this by other writers with names you would have heard of.

All of this took close to three years. And then they told me they couldn’t afford to do the play. And they were going to do a different play which came with some funding. So they didn’t do the play. The play I’d spent three years working on. The play they told me they liked. The play they told me they wanted to do. They play they’d given me money for the option to produce it. They did another one. And, you know who it was by? It was BY A GIRL!!!

I wanted to kill them. But I was scared. Because they were men. And reader, that is why you find me here, in my theatre tower, with my mind-control rays, stopping women getting their plays on, crushing their hearts and their dreams. Revenge is dirty. But always sweet.

Getting plays on is a messy affair. And when yours isn’t picked it feels horrible. It is horrible. It just is. And the people who pick someone else’s pay instead of yours are *********. And I know none of you who have posted so far think that the nice people at the Factory are horrible *********. But I would have. Because I’m not as nice as you. I would have mounted their image onto dartboards, branded them a pervert in influential web forums, made phone calls at three in the morning. “I will hurt you,” the familiar voice would whisper. “I will hurt you and those you love”. Click.

When someone doesn’t pick my play it’s because they’re an idiot. A horrible idiot ******** who wouldn’t know good theatre if it shagged them in a meadow. And time and history will prove me right and so on, and so forth. Then after awhile I get over it and myself. Cause life’s a bit like that.

My only point is this. There are a million reasons why someone else’s play gets picked rather than our play. So it may be nothing to do with our gender that our play is or isn’t picked. After all, there are so many other possible reasons. But that doesn’t mean that sometimes that might be the reason.

My guess is that no one ever sits down in a room and says ‘This year, we need to make sure we do more plays by boys than girls. That’s what we really need to do’. But then my guess is that George W Bush never sat down in a room with anyone and said, ‘You know what this country needs? Oil. So let’s attack a country we know for a fact poses us no threat, and take theirs’. I don’t think anyone ever said that. But just because no one says these things doesn’t mean they don’t happen. They do.

On a practical note, ‘blind’ submissions sent under pseudonyms might be a good idea. The Bruntwood playwrighting award does this.

Johnny Donnelly

censored wetpaint

TimEvans — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 13:27:25 CDT

Just so we all know, wetpaint rolled out a new release about a month ago - September 09 - which contained the beautifully twee "Bad Word Replacement" feature. It is currently unswitch-offable, and means that any profanity (including the three letter British slang for cigarette which begins with f) - will be fully asterisked by the prissy US nabobs of wetpaint. What a bunch of schoolmarmish twats, says I (knowing it to be an exclusively British profanity and therefore off their radar). Sigh. So from now on, in all show reports etc, when we're relating our beautifully colourful speech, please type only the first letter and then asterisk the rest. Or do something similarly creative. Perhaps post a photograph of the offending noun, preferably one of your own, whatever it may be. It's 2009 by the way.

http://www.wetpaintcentral.com/page/08%2F31%2F09+-+release

Also

If you want to add to the growing dissent and outrage at this draconian censorship, please let Wetpaint know here

http://www.wetpaintcentral.com/thread/3235472/Feedback+appreciated

11th October 2009 - Arch 635 Clapham

AlexHassell — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 07:37:03 CDT

CAST:

Hamlet: Jimmy Garnon
Ghost: John Hopkins
Claudius: Colin Hurley
Gertrude: Jo Croll
Polonius: Jono Oliver
Laertes: Scott Brooks Bank
Ophelia: Elena Pavli
Horatio: Ben Lambert
Rosencrantz: Maddy Hyland
Guildenstern: Katie Morgan
Barnardo: Sarah Bedi
Fransisco: Claire Redcliffe
Marcellus: Alex Blake
Osric: Alex Blake
Players: Scott Brooks Bank, Marianne Oldham, Maddy Hyland, Sarah Bedi
Gravedigger: Liz Richardson
2nd Man: Paul Rigel Jenkins
Priest: Faye Thomas
Messenger: Leila Crerar
Sailor: John Trindle
Fortinbras: Rhys Meredith
Captain: Very good audience member, who should think of taking up a career of either a Captain in some capacity....or acting
Ambassador: Paul Rigel Jenkins

ACT 1: played-in main space, using central area

Really enjoyed the start and had the terrible thought process of "yep, this is gonna be a good one...yep, it's reeeal smooth" not that this wasn't the case throughout, it's just a wankerish and presumptive thought process which is best rid of! Jopkins' use of tin foil wrapped around his head and hyperventilating deemed to be very affective, despite then perspiring profusely for the entirety of the show.
What seemed like a paper mache (as bits were falling off it all over the shop) oversized skull was used as reference to the “Old King” throughout this and latter scenes and was then sworn upon...along with continuous 'reminders' from the forces above- the trains passing over our heads.
Enjoyed watching attempts from Alex B and Ben to pin Jimmy to his spot, coincidentally during "I do not set my life at a pin's fee".

ACT 2: played in space, with audience spread across the space as evenly as possible.

I don't know whether it's because I haven't seen all of the Hamlets or if it was a new concept but Jimmy's entrance during Elena's speech about his knees knocking each other and him looking piteous in purport forced her to really acknowledge these momentary physical defects whether she choose for him to be visible to Jono or not.
Very affective use of palm reading and kissing of an audience members face (which proved to be the running theme for the show...) for the reading of words.
Players used a mirror to ‘reflect’ each line on each other- nice.

ACT 3: played in the bar; obstruction- both Jimmy and Marianne playing Hamlet

Rather daunting prospect I’m sure whereby Jimmy and Marianne had to make sense of sharing their lines whilst still making it feasible- towards the end of the act, this was done with Jimmy using Maz as the object of his frustration, anger, passion. He directed the lines to Maz, which were conventionally intended for Jo and/or Jono, which gave an implication of Hamlet being angry with the ‘Imp of his perverse’. I felt it really worked and gave such an exciting spin on “Look here upon this picture, and on this” which was delivered to Jo but used Hamlet as being in two minds.
Due to the length of the bar, it became difficult to hear any text if you were furthest away, therefore at first Hamlet was split into two separate areas at the same time and then Colin rather cleverly conducted Alex B, Alex H, Scott and himself as Claudius in harmony. Alex H later commended the use of height in this scene in order for the voice to travel i.e. Jo standing on the bar. The Players were also split into 2 groups-all of which was not set as an obstruction but rather took it’s course naturally simply so all of the audience got a bit of the action (may I ad here that this was incredibly brave and showed just how well the actors knew the parts to be able to step in as they did, and boldly too).

ACT 4: played in main space, to one side of the room

Here we saw the brilliance that was the audience member who had learnt his lines and put some of us actors to shame by not knowing ours as well! Rhys also pulled off a sequence of rabbit ear-movements (mouse, they were supposed to be mice) with the audience in conveying Fortinbras’ commandments. Umbrellas used for both Hamlet’s letters to Horatio and Claudius.

ACT 5: played in main space, with the audience either side of the room

Unfortunately I can’t note anything more in much detail for Act 4 as I started to become somewhat nervous towards the end of it and I do confess that my eyes were frantically looking around the room for suitable props for the grave and skulls. Not that this can be used as an excuse, but I did find the audience’s lack of props difficult and therefore resorted to newspaper sheets as graves…and plastic bags as skulls- not very inventive at all. I also hold my hands up to the ‘characterisation’ note from Alex H, which I massively resorted to and tends to be my default mechanism when experiencing the fear.
Elena did not enter as the dead Ophelia for the ceremony, rather just remnants of her as in her shoes, necklace and shades.
Osric’s “bonnet” came in form of a toothbrush and caused much amusement throughout the audience…but maybe not as much as Jimmy and Scott’s dual. This, I’m sure, was the highlight for many in the evening’s proceedings- both Hamlet and Laertes snogging women chosen at random from the audience in order to win. It almost became like a ‘How to kiss a girl…seductively’ by Jimmy Garnon instruction book and left a lot of jealous looking men AND women amongst the audience AND cast! All parties involved looked to be reeeeeally enjoying themselves! (I hope Mrs Garnon and Mrs Brooks Bank aren’t reading this).
Once again, I don’t know whether it’s because I haven’t seen all of the Hamlets or whether it was a new choice made by Jopkins to enter at the end of the play and, like himself, wrap foil/cling film around Jimmy’s head and lead him off…but I liked the symbolism (if I dare say that word).

AFTER THOUGHTS:

I, myself being new to the squad, found it to be the experience to kick-start the sheer vastness to be explored in Hamlet. I feel that myself and the other new players made steps towards letting go of the text (not too loosely though) and hopefully in the future being able to delve into what the Factory want to continuously get from it, which I see as to be exciting and fresh every time. Admittedly it felt at times that for new players it was the chance to make the first tentative step and learn massively from it; for existing members to take it down paths I for one have never seen explored and the dare to be different; and for those returning ,to add their seasoning that flavours and compliments the existing base recipe so well. I truly believe that it can and will always be so very different and unrepeatable for as long as people never stop questioning it. Nothing is right, nothing is the way and affecting nothing or no body is boring.
I’m sorry if I have missed parts of the play that people really felt stood out for them but the whole evening was a whirlwind and I can only collate a few things from it. N.B Always watch the show as though you are going to do the blog...

Liz Richardson

Seagull Show Report - 4th October 2009

RhysMeredith — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 16:35:34 CDT

The Seagull – Stoke Newington International Airport
4th October 2009

(The show where we all announced our full names at the beginning, where there was a lot of snogging, and where we didn’t get in the way of the play, but simply let the story tell itself)

The Cast
Steven Bloomer – The Son
Katie Morgan (sometimes known as Amanda) – The Girl
Leila Crerar – The Actress
John Hopkins – The Writer
Scott Brooksbank – The Bailiff
Liz Richardson – The Bailiff’s Wife
Faye Thomas – The Bailiff’s Daughter
Steffan Edwards (Sometimes known as Rhys Meredith) – The Schoolmaster
Colin Hurley – The Brother
Simon Muller – The Doctor
Madeleine Hyland (Sometimes known as Maddy) – The Servant
Alexander Hassell (sometimes known as Cow Face) - MC

Act 1 – Audience in chairs all over the airport. Cast weave through them
Faye and Steff wander through the crowd, Faye is on chewing gum.
Steff walks miles to see Faye everyday and all he gets is “this darkness.”
Colin and Steve crash in on this scene. Colin says his brain is “sticking to the inside of his skull” after a long sleep. Steve adjusts the lights from a switch at the back, as some audience arrive late.

Maddy is not a sneaky servant, she is in the scene, as real as everyone else and is “desperate for a swim.”

Steve reckons not one of John Hopkins' books are close to being good. Colin wishes he’d got round to kissing a girl.

Katie negotiates her way through the audience and denies Colin’s accusations of crying “no, I ran here and the wind was in my eyes.”

Colin senses that Katie and Steve want some time alone and makes a big show of leaving: ”When shall we three meet again? I’m always quoting stuff, even if I don’t know what it’s from...”

Katie frets about performing in front of John, and Maddy squeezes her arm on her way out “You’ll be amazing.” Steve calls Maddy back and she peers in through a doorway, half dressed after her swim. Maddy: “What?”

“Silly. Silliness.” (Liz to Simon regarding his flirting with Leila)
“You’re a sex pest. Do you or do you not fancy Leila?”
Simon defends himself by saying any interest in Leila is simply a fascination with actresses and celebrities and that it is “aspirational.”

Scott flatters Leila about an open rehearsal in which he saw her, when, “she wiped the floor with everyone else.” Leila responds, “If ever I’m feeling s**t about myself, I just come and see you!”

Leila enters the set of Steve’s play which is the stage, with a wicker screen at the front bathed in red light. A drum kit is upstage. Leila beats the drums. Steve asks the audience to imagine the world in thousands of years, and everyone chips in.

Steve silences them, “That’s what the play’s about, so wait and see.”

Katie performs from behind the screen and Maddy plays chords of the guitar.
Leila: “It’s good for a rehearsal isn’t it?”
Colin: “Shhh!”
Leila: “Sorry! It’s funny though. It’s good!”
Steve: “Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop.”

Leila insists that the play was embarrassing and she indicates John who has been quietly sitting and watching: “I mean, we’ve got company.”

Colin announces Katie’s arrival, “Here she is, the winner of the x factor!” Leila encourages Katie, “a little bit of training and you’ll be brilliant.” John gives Katie a brief critique: “Your acting was exciting, and the stage was… red.”

Scott begins to tell an anecdote about a Punch and Judy show he saw once. He cracks up as he is saying it. Everyone tries to hurry along his story with prompts, but Scott is only encouraged by their interruptions.

Leila: “Get to the punchline.”
The punchline is: “bollocks.”
Simon: “Scott, have you considered stand-up?
(pause)
Simon: “Don’t”
Scott is visibly rattled by this.
Scott: “Have you ever done stand-up?”
Simon: “I’m a doctor.”

Everyone takes up Colin’s offer to go inside and we hear them exiting for ages and ages, really nice distant echos from somewhere in Stoke Newington.
Simon really asks the audience what they thought of the play.
Simon: “What did you think of it?”
Audience member: “Me?”
Simon: “Yeah.”
Audience Member: “I thought it was fascinating.”

Simon asks another audience member what they thought, and the audience member says they liked it.
Simon: “What was your favourite line?”
There is an audible gasp – the pressure to answer! The audience member is quick to respond: “The line about death.” Simon and the audience member are in agreement about this and it is a nice live moment.

Simon and Steve stand opposite eachother on the stage. Simon tells Steve that he enjoyed his play. Steve is concerned about Katie and berates Simon when he hears Katie has gone. “Why did you let her go home?”

Faye catches up with Steve asking him to go inside. “I’m not coming inside, so deal with it.”

Simon excuses Steve’s behaviour; “He’s a bit emotionally under-developed.”
Faye finds the red light and stands in it, “I think I’m collapsing.” Simon hugs her. Faye hugs back.
Simon: “Ow.”
Simon: “I don’t know what to do.”
Then he asks the audience: “What should I do?”
Just before Alex announces the end of the act, an audience member near me says: “Give her a kiss!”

Act 2 – Same configuration as act 1
Simon started reading the book aloud before the end of the countdown.
Leila is younger-looking than Faye in Simon’s eyes. Leila attributes this to her having learnt how to take a punch. She just tenses her stomach and takes it. When her agent calls: “Too old to play Juliet. Bam. Too tall to play Hermia. Bam. I am like Jean Claude Van Damm. You, Faye, are like John Candy.”

Faye is chained, shackled and giggly. Leila says she has the chains too, and tells her "so does Simon." She asks where Alex is, before Simon corrects her, “you mean John?”

Leila greets Katie as “A little fighter!” referring her to Faye.

Leila asks about Steve. Faye says he is “sick at heart,” and compliments Steve’s poems: “He reads them to me sometimes. It’s cool.”

There is a row between Colin and Simon about health and drugs. Steff offers: “Maybe if Colin didn’t smoke so much he wouldn’t need his mobility scooter.” (The ‘mobility scooter’ for this Seagull show is a bright pink child’s bike thing.)

Simon can’t write Colin a prescription for an unfulfilled life.
Faye: “It must be lunchtime, my leg’s gone to sleep.”

Scott enters and stands high on a chair. He asks Leila what her plans are for today, and Leila says: “Liz is coming with me to town, we are going to have a girly one.”
Scott: “She’s not.” Leila thinks Liz deserves to let her hair down. Scott says they can’t go because none of the cars are available. He starts to take his clothes off, offering them to Leila as tokens of all the things he would give her, aside from a car into town. He removes his shoes and Leila takes them, saying she will put them on and walk into town. Scott takes his removed jumper and makes the sleeve into a puppet: “Look, look, I resign” says the puppet. Leila casts one of Scott’s shoes as a puppet and says: “Here’s my puppet: ‘I don’t give a s**t.’ “

After Scott’s exit Leila tells the group that he is a little Hitler and they should stand up to him.

Colin gets wound up: “This is the bit where I get pissed off. It’s like a script. It’s like Emmerdale.” He shouts after Scott, then realises that he can actually see him and brings him back into the scene: “Don’t pretend you can’t see me, Scott.”
Scott then stands up and pulls his jumper over his face so he can’t see Colin. Colin weeps.

Everyone leaves except Liz and Simon. Liz is distraught: ”At what point did I ever think marrying him was a good idea?”

She tells Simon she can’t bear him looking at other women. Then chastises herself “Oh God, what am I doing?” Simon touches her shoulder.
Liz: “Don’t touch me, cos it’s patronising.”

When Simon can’t give her the promise of leaving with her, she shrugs it off: “It’s all right.” And Simon goes to walk out. He is stopped by Katie, who gives him a flower. Liz throws it across the audience. (oh my god health and safety oh my god.)

Katie is left alone. She bravely asks the audience if anyone has a magazine, like Hello or Heat. She encourages them to own up; “Come on…” someone gives in and presents her with: “Ah…Grazia. Look here, Kate Moss, Kelly Brook… look at them here at fashion shows, looking all glamorous. They have off days, they go to the toilet – we just don’t get to see it.”

Steve enters and presents Katie with a dead seagull (a bike saddle).

Katie: “Thank you. That is special. Thank you Steve. I’m really touched. I don’t get it and I don’t want it.”
Steve: “Why the sarcasm? Why are you being so weird? I wish you could understand how unhappy you’ve made me recently.”

This whole exchange is calmly delivered, as Steve goes on to describe his feelings of loneliness as being like waiting for dawn to break, and it gets to 6am, and it doesn’t come, and 7am, 8am, and it is still night. In the audience at the back, I get goosebumps.

John enters. Steve, to Katie: “Enjoy him.”

John: “There was an argument involving a bald man and a blue car. I would like to have met you more.”
Katie: “And I wanted to get to know you.”
John: “Why?”
Katie: “Because you’re really famous!”
John: “Deep.”

John talks about those adverts for cocoa pops, where they insist that there are no artificial flavours, or preservatives, and even though it is clearly a bowl of brown death, you know that the sweetness is real. But however, it is still bad for the teeth. This is like Katie’s sweetness as she flatters him.

John describes his experience of writing as like being in a tin box orbiting the planet, looking down on it all, whilst listening to static. He tells Katie he’s looking at himself, not experiencing it in the present: “I’m looking at the hairs rising on the back of my neck as I’m talking to you.”

He embarks on another epic simile, something about it being like rolling the planet up into a ball, before abandoning it “that metaphor won’t work.”

When Katie tells him how good his writing is, he answers, “I’m good. That’s all I am.”

Katie then walks slowly and purposefully over to him, and stands very close. It looks like there might be a kiss. Then she reveals that she has been examining his face: “No, you’re just tired,” she confirms.

Leila breaks it up by calling out for John.
John: “Gotta, go. Don’t wanna go.”

John manipulates Katie to get her to make Leila stay; “Ask her for acting lessons. She likes you.”

John leaves Katie alone. She puts her hands in prayer and looks up: “Thank you.”

Half-time notes:
Don’t be afraid of the peaks in the show
Find the light as the sun is going down
It’s going well, don’t f**k it up

Act 3 – Entire act to take place on stage
Faye and John at a table. Faye has a glass of red wine, from a bottle hidden under her chair. She says marrying Steff will work at ending her infatuation with Steve as “new troubles will drown out the old ones.”

John thinks that he has to leave because Steve has tried to shoot himself in the head. “And now he’s trying to shoot me. It’s rude. It’s bad manners.”
Faye: (re: Steff) “He loves me, and he’s cute.”
John: “Your marriage sounds amazing already.”

Faye asks for a dedication in one of John's books: “To Faye, who will stop labouring under false pretences.” She waits silently for John to note it down, then leaves.

Katie enters and asks John to guess the playing card in her hand. There is a lot of preamble as to whether he has to guess the suit, the colour or the number. In the end he guesses 6 of diamonds. Katie she reveals her card: the 6 of diamonds! Katie is totally stunned, as are the audience. I still don’t know if it was set up or not – I suspect not. It was a great coup either way.

Katie gives John a necklace with a fish on it, because he loves fishing. He is touched “Is it a trout?” He then sees that Katie has wrapped a note up around the necklace. We can hear Leila shouting, “No, no, no” from the back of the audience, “You’re not coming with us Colin…”

Maddy asks “Mr Hopkins” if he’d like his luggage taken out. John reacts with surprise at being called “Mr Hopkins.”

Leila gives John a big kiss when she turns up, a very public display of affection.

John goes to find one of his books in the library and Colin and Leila sit at the table. Colin gets depressed “stuck here like a boot, or a fish…” Leila says that Colin is needed by Steve because, “You’re like the father he never had.”

Colin begins to describe Steve’s situation using dots of white paint on the table that they sit at. “This one is jealousy…” Leila takes up the dots game too: “And these are all his opportunities – this one looks like a job!”

Colin: “And this one… oooh it is a pot of gold, given to him by his mummy!”
Leila: “I’m waiting for my pay to come through from Harry Potter.”

Colin starts to look queasy as he says “I feel bad for you. I feel bad full stop,” the lights in the venue flicker for a second. Colin has a violent seizure and Steve and Steff enter in response to Leila’s screams. Steve tells Leila not to worry “Let him work it out” and Colin slowly comes round. He apologises to Leila, insisting on coming to town at “1 O’clock in the blue car.” He is helped off the stage slowly by Steff.
Leila starts to freak out, but Steve quietly stops her until Colin is out of sight; “wait..."

Steve heads to a chair upstage and gets Leila to change his bandage. She reacts to seeing the wound on his head:
Leila: “It’s fine Steve.”
Steve: “I don’t believe you.”
Leila kisses the wound.
Steve: “Ow.”
Steve starts to reminisce about the time Leila took Moira, the costume woman from a musical Leila was in, to A and E when she came into work with a black eye and a busted arm. Leila doesn’t remember until Steve mentions the dancers that were in the show. Leila: “Oh god, the dancers. They were beautiful weren’t they…”

This scene has been gentle.

Steve: “John’s an idiot.”

Leila plays the positive on acidic phrases like “you are draining my energy”. The scene keeps reaching a sort of plateau where it looks like they are coming to a resolution, but then suddenly the voices rise again – like a real argument. Steve tells Leila to go away.

Leila: (Hugging Steve) “I’m a s**t mum aren’t I.”
Steve: “Yeah.”

John wanders in with a copy of his book. He finds the quote Katie wanted him to find at the top of page 188: “I can’t imagine I would not like being with you.”

John tells Leila that “Katie did an amazing thing, she made me a fish necklace and in it was a quote by me... my work.”
Leila: “We both know why you wanna stay. Because of the fish.”
John: “Free me.”
Leila: “John! You’re not that into her! She’s sickly sweet! She’s like a big stick of rock!”

When this doesn’t permeate, Leila makes to leave from the back of the stage: “I’m gonna do something stupid…” John tells her to “Stop acting! Stop being the heroine who does noble things!”

Leila runs with this metaphor: “John, you’re the big lead!”

There is some discussion about feeling like an extra in someone else’s life/film, or talking to the stage manager… then this is abandoned when Leila protests that John is “God’s gift to readers! And I’m an atheist!”

John is won over. He never wants to be in a room unless Leila is in it. There is a big passionate kiss. Leila looks to the audience, exhales with relief, and gives me a high five because I’m in the front row.

Scott is blustery as he enters with Liz and Maddy, and starts to talk about a funny thing that happened when he went to see a production of Oedipus once. John collapses in his chair. Scott blithely continues, and Leila takes a seat – she knows it is going to be some time. Scott continues, describing how the actor playing Oedipus had insisted that when he has his eyes bandaged, he really can’t see out. “Did Oedipus fall off the stage?” Says Leila, in an attempt to hurry things along. Scott is unaware of how rude she and John are being, and is simply fuelled by his perception that it is some kind of guessing game on their part – proper playing to win. He rounds off the story saying that the actor with the bandaged eyes did his entire big speech facing upstage when it should have been to the audience. There is genuine laughter in the audience and on stage. Leila has to admit that actually that was quite funny.

Liz and Leila seem to have a real friendship as they say their goodbyes. Liz apologises for any shortcomings and gives Leila a tiny model of a lighthouse. Leila hugs her “It’s really not your fault”, a look in Scott’s direction at this point is not unnoticed.
Scott: (irritated) “Come on.” There is much bustle as everyone leaves, with Leila calling for Steve. As they are leaving, Liz is given the lighthouse model she gave to Leila moments before, by Maddy as she clears the room. Liz looks hurt. I feel like crying.

John comes back in for his book which he left on the table. From behind the audience Katie gets his attention: “It’s a 1 in 52 chance. I’ve gotta do it.”

John is suddenly busy. He tells Katie to go to a hotel off Piccadilly called The Stables: “I keep a room there. For… it doesn’t matter. You’re like a sexy giraffe.”
Katie giggles, the audience guffaws, they kiss.

Act 4 – Audience round the edge, playing space in the middle, lighting adjusted as it is getting very dark in the space.
Steff and Faye negotiate the pools of light, sofa, chairs and table.
Steff: “People get lonely when they are on their own.” He goes on to talk about the theatre by the lake looking like the rotting carcass of a dinosaur that died there. Faye couldn’t care less. Steff suggests they go home because; “Little baby Pip is missing his mother, and babysitters don’t grow on trees.”

Liz comes in with pillows because “Colin would like to kip on the sofa tonight.” Steff goes to leave.
Steff: (To Liz) “Bye Mum.”
Liz: “Oooh, what have I said about calling me that?”

Liz embarks on an excruciating appraisal of Faye to Steve.
Faye: “What are you doing?”

Steve leaves. Liz berates Faye, “I feel sorry for you Faye. You had every opportunity.”
Faye: “You don’t need to feel sorry for me mum. I’m not you.” Ouch.
Steve plays “Yesterday” on the piano from the next room.

Colin comes in with help from Steff. He attacks Simon; “Here I am at death’s door, and I still can’t get a pill.” Simon engages in this argument, sat on the edge of the sofa and holding Colin’s foot in a friendly way.
Colin: “So cos you’re holding my foot that makes it OK.” Simon giggles at this.
Colin: “When you peep over the cliff, then you’ll be scared.”

Steff asks Simon the best place he has visited. Simon talks about Norway, and how you could run around naked in the snow – “it was amazing.” When there is laughter Simon is insistent: “No, it was. You could hear a wolf howling. I thought if I died now, I’d be happy.” He says that last bit to Colin.

Simon asks Steve about Katie. Steve talks about her acting career; “I don’t think she’s ever been paid. She was rubbish. Except, how she died, or how she screamed.” He says her letters were “excruciatingly positive” and she signed her letters off as “The Seagull. Like the Joker.”

Colin: “I saw her naked once.”

Colin weeps. John and Leila turn up. John sees Colin and tells him “you’re not dead, you’re not alive, make up your mind you tosser!”

John, evidently in buoyant mood, makes a very public apology to Steve, saying his good will is very big of him.

Monopoly is set up and Steff makes a subtle exit for the second time; “I’m not good at monopoly anyway. Not good with money.”

Steve tells the audience John is a prick. He exits and plays the Moonlight Sonata on the piano.

The monopoly gamesters discuss Steve’s reviews with John saying they are “Harsh, but fair.”

Leila suggests they play monopoly with real money.
Leila: “Remember when I was in Planet of the Apes?”
Scott: “You were still beautiful.”
Leila: “But hairy. Anyway, a fan gave me this!” She holds up a banana.

No one can get the game of Monopoly past the choosing-a-piece stage. Steve goes to open the main metal doors to the airport. It makes a loud rumbling noise. Leila tells him off, because Colin will get cold.

John blatantly cheats, and wins, and Simon is outraged as they are playing for real cash: “Have you lost your mind?”

It is dinner time and Colin is extracted from the sofa. He gets as far as the monopoly table and goes to sit down. They kindly tell him “No, all the way," Scott says, “He’s clutching his cushion…” lots of lovely chat as they exit.

Steve sits alone at the monopoly table. He reads his latest work, something about a “decaying diaspora” – like he’s “just discovered alliteration”.

There is a knock on the door and the low rumble of steel again. It is Katie.
Steve: “I left you messages…”
Katie: “I was scared you would look at me and say: who the hell are you?”
Steve: “Could your eyes have got browner?”
Katie: “I’m a seagull.
Steve: “What?”
Katie: “I’m a seagull.”

Katie has a job in Cornwall to go to. Steve says Cornwall is nice. Steve says “God, I’ve hated you so much.”

Katie gets a copy of Steve’s play out of her pocket.
Steve is gobsmacked: “I ripped that up! I ripped that f***ing play up!”
Katie: “I liked it! I copied it out!”
Steve: (quiet and blank) “I’m so lost. Katie. I’m so lost.”

Katie exits. Steve is alone and tears up his papers. He picks up the banana and gives it to an audience member. He leaves.

Simon enters through the thunderous door with a f*ag on the go. Everyone settles back down to monopoly. Scott brings the Seagull on, mounted (a bike saddle stuck on a broom handle).

A gunshot is heard. Loud from where I sat.
Leila: “F**k!”
Leila: “I feel sick.”
Simon takes John aside: “Get Leila out of here. Steven’s killed himself. He’s blown his brains out.”

I see two audience members opposite me in the light, one with a hand on her throat, both with jaws dropped. Awesome.

This was a beautifully pitched show I thought. There were times where I couldn’t see everything in Acts 1 and 2, but I still listened actively because people were behind what they were saying. It felt like people weren’t inventing stuff, just letting the play do its thing. Also, The Airport was just a brilliant venue, especially when were sat in the round, as you could see the audience so clearly. They were fascinating and I kept finding myself watching their reactions as they were so compelled by what was going on. Well done.