Down and out and struggling in London – PART SEVEN

As I stroll through a tiny African village, realising humans really are just the same the world over, realising the human experience has little variance person to person, country to country, realising flies are crawling inside my mouth, I wonder what has led me to this point, what sacrifices have I made to be here, all to be “living the dream”.

So anyway. I sincerely hope you are all well. I sure am, having freshly holidayed in Kenya where I was incessantly bombarded with story ideas. There are so many stories out there to tell. Where does one even begin? I’ve written all the ideas in a notebook and hope to visit them again.
So we’re right into rehearsals for my next play, A SIMPLE PROCEDURE, which will be performed at the Pleasance Theatre Studio theatre in four weeks. As with the last play, we’re finding only snatches of time here and there to rehease in living rooms and bedrooms. Running this production are Jess Wood, Lucy Wigmore and Carl Dixon, three brilliant kiwi actor/producers. It’s so good to have a back seat in terms of producing! And they’re so good at what they do. If there’s one lesson I’ve learnt (besides the importance of casting the right person for the role) it’s that life is so much easier when you’re part of a group with a shared goal. Here we all are, struggling the same struggles, yearning for the same success.
The play has a cast of five and I wrote it with four actors in mind. So we have to audition for the final male role. Now, auditioning is something I’ve rarely done before, always choosing to cast my pals, but I am now determined to wrok with at least one new actor with every new production. So, here I am, auditioning people. We put an ad on a casting website with only the scantest of information and we literally had over one hundred applicants within hours. How depressing! All these aspiring actors just wanting a chance to shine. So we went through all the applicants photos and CVs, eliminating until we were left with a shortlist of ten. I know I should just fucking harden up but there’s something a little disappointing in me looking at someone’s photo and making a decision solely on the way they look. How shallow! And anyone foreign? Too much of a risk they won’t have a good grasp on English. Isn’t that terrible!!! So anyway, we got it down to ten and now I’m just waiting for those to read the script and get back to me. Wouldn’t it be funny if no one got back to me having read the script?!

Oh my, casting is just not for me. I just want the perfect Charles/Malcolm/Gareth (the characters they will have to play) to simply land on my doorstep.

Anyway, one of the cast and I were semi-despairing about all the applicants and the sheer volume of talent and competition out there and the conclusion we came up with? You simply have to make your own work. That’s my recommendation to all the actors out there. It’s very liberating and empowering.
So that’s A Simple Procedure. More on it later.

What else is going on? I may be on the cusp of the most ideal of jobs but I don’t want to jinx it. I’m also stressing because it’s almost March already!! And I feel like I haven’t acheived anything all year. I just get caught up in the business of everyday life. I don’t know about yous fullas, but I constantly feel like I’m battling time. I don’t want it to be the end of 2009 and be in exactly the same place. In all my ponderings I’ve decided my only weapon in this battle against time is DILIGENCE. Every single day, doing something towards my career. Don’t just let it all pass you by. So I’ve drawn up a grid and I’m planning to schedule the hell out of my life. Let’s see how long that lasts for . . .
But basically I think I’m about ready for a glut of some frickin’ hard work. I’ve also been dreaming about making a film and have been wondering how the hell one can be made. But, as a buddhist with red glasses told me the other day, the ability to make a film, write a novel, produce a sterling play, is in me right now. So just do it, Sainsbury! Right, I’m off to be productive.
Much love. Oh, and here’s the first scene of a new play that I hope to be doing in NZ later in the year. I was hoping that it would be Mike Leigh-esque.

SCENE ONE
Nicole knocks gently on the front door of Elvira’s apartment. No one answers. She opens the door tentatively.

NICOLE: Hello?

Nothing.

NICOLE: It’s only Nicole.

She looks around the living room. It is decorated brilliantly. Pink and purple abound. After a beat Elvira walks in with a platter of nibbles.

ELVIRA: What the hell are you doing here?

NICOLE: I was so early. Our meeting with the florist -

ELVIRA: Get out!

NICOLE: Are you serious?

ELVIRA: I’m not ready for anyone! Get out! Now!

Nicole runs to the door.

NICOLE: Elvira, it’s -

ELVIRA: Now!

Nicole scurries out of the room. Elvira puts the plate down. There is a tentative knock.

NICOLE: I’m sorry.

ELVIRA: Come in.

Nicole warily enters.

NICOLE: I’m sorry.

ELVIRA: I just wanted everything to be perfect. I didn’t even think you would come early. I wanted everyone to be here when you came in and saw it all. No one else is here. The whole thing is ruined.

NICOLE: It’s not ruined at all, darling.

ELVIRA: It is.

NICOLE: No, it’s not. I love it. I love all the decorations. They’re amazing. Pink. Purple. My favourites.

ELVIRA: I even made aubergine dip.

NICOLE: Babaganoush?

ELVIRA: No.

NICOLE: I can see how much trouble you’ve gone to for this, and I really appreciate it. Can I give you a hug?

ELVIRA: Of course.

They hug tightly. Nicole goes to sit down.

ELVIRA: How was your day? You can’t sit there.

NICOLE: Where can I sit?

ELVIRA: Over in the corner for now. Just until I finish everything. Everyone else better not be early. You’re the bride. You’re meant to be here last.

Nicole sits in the corner.

NICOLE: I know. I was just knocking around, so I thought I’d come over and see if you needed help with anything.

ELVIRA: Well, I don’t. Everything is well under control. How was the florist?

NICOLE: They’re not as good as the old one. But they’re not wankers. And they think they can get it all done in time. Which is great.

ELVIRA: That’s a relief. What’s my bouquet gonna be like?

NICOLE: Still red and white.

ELVIRA: Beautiful. Should go with my skin.

NICOLE: That’s what we were thinking. Oh, Elvira, I’m only telling you this because you’re the only one that I can trust -

ELVIRA: What is it?

NICOLE: I’m more anxious than I thought I was going to be. I thought I was going to be fine. But I’m clearly not. I can’t sleep. I’m getting angry at the smallest of things. It’s horrible. Why don’t they make weddings easy? And James’ mother is such a meddler. I didn’t realise it before. And she and Mum have these fights. It’s so terrible. For goodness sake, Gloria has two daughters. I’m all that Mum’s got. Can’t she just let Mum have a go? And, of course, to avoid even more conflict I just don’t say anything.

ELVIRA: Poor baby. I think that you just have to remember that weddings aren’t really for you. They’re for everyone else. That’s what my sister said before her third wedding. And it’s so true. As long as you love your husband, that’s all you should worry about.

NICOLE: Yes.

ELVIRA: And as long as you look good in the photos. Has that all been organised?

NICOLE: The Granveux Gardens.

ELVIRA: Beautiful. Among the roses? They’ll go with my skin. How’s the diet?

NICOLE: Beyond terrible.

ELVIRA: What one are you trying?

NICOLE: I did the lemon detox. Didn’t work. I lost a whole lot of water and now it’s all back. So now I’m just doing fit for life.

ELVIRA: Tried that one.

NICOLE: Good results?

ELVIRA: I felt great until I gave up.

There is another knock at the door.

ELVIRA: What the hell? It’s still ages before anyone is expected. What’s with coming early? It just makes no sense.

She answers the door. It’s Giselle.