Acting Earnest

I’m back! Apologies for my absence these past few weeks I’m afraid I’ve been busier than a bee. I was lucky enough to get a role in the ensemble for a community production of The Importance of Being Earnest at South Hill Park. We had three weeks of rehearsals before we hit the stage for seven performances in five days so it was all a bit hectic! I tend to stay off the stage and behind the computer screen but on occasion I like to act. This was the first play I’ve done since I left school and I had an amazing time. Everyone at South Hill Park was super friendly and made me feel so welcome.

Lady Bracknell was played by Gwen Taylor which made the whole experience even more exciting. Gwen was lovely to work with and so supportive of me as I took to the stage for the first time. Alastair Whatley, the director, created a wonderful interpretation of the play and had us doing crazy things like raves and carrying people across stage. All the actors did a fantastic job bringing Oscar Wilde’s words to life that I was still chuckling away three weeks in.

Acting in the play was great fun but I guess it’s the writer in me that kept being drawn to the script, listening back stage, waiting for my favourite lines to be spoken. I decided early on that my favourite part of the whole play is Algernon’s response to Jack announcing he is going to be christened:

“JACK: Yes, but you have been christened. That is the important thing.

ALGERNON: Quite so. So I know my constitution can stand it. If you are not quite sure about your ever having been christened, I must say I think it rather dangerous your venturing on it now. It might make you very unwell. You can hardly have forgotten that some one very closely connected with you was very nearly carried off this week in Paris by a severe chill.”

For those of you who don’t know the play the person that was ‘very nearly carried off this week’ is Jack’s fictional younger brother. A character he made up only to then kill off when he became an inconvenience. The hilarity ensues when, just after Jack informs everyone that his ‘brother’ is dead, Algernon walks in claiming to be said brother. The extract above is not only funny because of the ridiculous suggestion that one might be made ill as a result of being christened but because of what follows. A technique named the ‘call back’. The ‘call back’ is when a joke that was made earlier is brought up again, later in the show. If you watch any talk show or comedian you’ll see this happen all the time and it never fails to get a laugh. You’d have to talk to a psychologist to figure out why we find it funny, all I know is that when Algernon reminds Jack that he is ‘closely connected’ with someone who was ‘very nearly carried off’ the joke is familiar, yet fresh and down right hilarious. Wilde, of course, adds to the humour through the complexity of the story and the fact that not only is Algernon’s excuse for Jack needing to be careful about getting christened completely fictional but he himself is posing as the very person who nearly died.

The story is a beautifully organised mess that remains relevant and funny to this day and I am honoured to have been a part of the production.


A script for Spring

A little while ago, I attended a script-writing workshop up here in St. Andrews, the theme of which was ‘Spring’.  For no other reason than I want to, I’ve decided to post the script I wrote up here for perusal.  It was meant to be about 10 minutes long, we gave it to a group of actors who performed it and gave us feedback (very helpful, dramatic readings are always the best).  Whilst I imagined one of my characters to be a teenage girl, both were played as male and it came off brilliantly.

I’m obsessed with citrus fruit

I was in a Film Studies lecture recently, being told about avant-garde cinema, when we were shown a 7 minute long video of a lemon.  It’s safe to say that I’m never going to get these 7 minutes back (all that happened was the light changed slowly around the lemon, not the kind of film we’re used to but I suppose that was the point).  I did send many snapchats of this film, and received many more, and so by dinner time everyone had heard about the 7 minute lemon video.  Why, you wonder?

It’s the lemons.

I understand that’s not very explanatory.  Most recently I’ve been working on a play called Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons, by a guy called Sam Steiner.  It went up last week and somehow we haven’t been able to escape the clutches of citrus servitude.  Myself and the rest of the crew have been roundly accused of not shutting up about lemons, of both the real and metaphorical variety.  It’s entirely true of course, I now point them out every time we’re in Tesco.  I laughed the other day because my friend got a lemon sorbet.  It’s possibly the oddest in-joke I’ve ever been a party to.

Especially because the play itself has no actual lemons.

It’s about a couple called Oliver and Bernadette, who live in a world which has just passed a ‘Quietude Bill’ that restricts everyone to only being able to say 140 words per day.  I love it as a play, and have a simultaneous hatred and affinity for both of the characters.  It’s quite tricky to pull off, as the scenes jump backwards and forwards from the time before the bill is passed and after.  The title is in reference to a scene where Bernadette wants to get all of her words out in one go, so says a random list that includes five mentions of a certain acidic fruit.

My role in the production was publicity, so my hard drive is now full of pictures of lemons, yellow objects, videos of people juggling lemons, people using lemons as phones, people using lemons as hats, people eating lemons in pubs and videos about lemon-stealing whores (that one’s the intro to a porno – involving lemons?  Was hilarious to a group of people who do nothing but talk about lemons).  I have a dress covered in lemons that I wore to the opening performance.  Soon, I will tear off my outer skin to reveal the lemon underneath.

However many lemons I now have that I now don’t know what to do with; and however many awful lemon puns we came up with; I genuinely enjoyed the experience so I’ve now joined a team that’s taking a production to the Edinburgh Fringe this year.  We had a publicity meeting the other day.  Guess what the ‘symbol’ of the play is going to be?

A banana.

There is no escape from yellow fruit.