Two out of three ain’t bad

And I’m back again with shameless advertising part the second! I was meant to be keeping some kind of writer’s/director’s/nervous wreck’s blog on The Mourning Primrose, but what with one thing and another I’ve had neither the time nor inclination.

I never thought directing this play was going to be easy, but it sure feels like it’s been a lot harder than it ought to have been. At least compared to any of the shows I’ve ever been involved in – though I’m sure my former directors will want to take me to task on that, the Fish in particular!

The Primrose has been beleaguered right from the outset. Firstly, there’s a lot on at the FBS this autumn and I’ve been struggling to find suitably sized rehearsal space at the times we need it.

Then an injury in the second week of rehearsal meant I needed to find a replacement for a character that never shuts up and is in every scene of the play bar one. The replacement was half way up a mountain in Chile for three weeks.

After reshuffling the cast, sod’s law stated that it was the reshuffled people we’d been focusing on thus far, and we needed to redo everything with the new cast. But a variety of stealth business trips, illnesses and general wtfness meant it was an unbelievable five weeks before we had a rehearsal in which everyone called actually showed up. (And as there were only two people called that day, it was a bloody good job too!) At the nadir, I was on stage standing in for three different people, a nightmare for all involved: ‘No, no, no! It’s quite simple: when I’m wearing the antlers, I’m Cuthbert…’

Sorting out all the above and being sick with salmonella for a couple of weeks also means I’m personally way behind with admin, costumes, whatever you care to name.

Yet we’ve just survived a horrendously long weekend containing two of the most laborious rehearsals of any play. A first full walkthrough (with blocking incomplete) on Saturday that went straight into a full off-book walkthrough on Sunday was cruel and unusual, but necessary under the circumstances. So a huge thanks to all cast and crew – it went far better than I’d hoped it ever could!

It’s now six weeks and four days to curtain up. We’re under-rehearsed, but pretty much back on track.

There was a point – after everything that could go wrong seemed to have done – when I wondered why I ever thought I could do this. Someone being hurt so badly in rehearsal they had to pull out of the show – a failure for me, whatever the extenuating circumstances, because I was in charge. Gaping holes in the backstage and technical crew (still true), and hordes of people not showing up to rehearsals – a failure for me, because I couldn't motivate people to do so. Struggling for rehearsal space – my first failure in the management skill department, plus all the things I'm personally behind on. Top that with the seesawing confidence that comes with dealing with your own work and...

The Players had just been asked to do something to commemorate the 250th anniversary of William Blake’s birth, and the director of that was finding it tricky to put together a cast as our rehearsal periods overlap almost perfectly. I asked myself, what if I just say to him, ‘You want a budget, a theatre and a cast? You got one!’

Anyone who read my preoccupations will know I have one for independence, the flip side of that coin being a horror of dependence. I hate to need anything or anyone. If I can’t do something alone, I shouldn’t be doing it.

So I put on my Meatloaf mask, looked in the mirror and asked, do you want it, do you need it, do you love it? I do want love it, I do want it, but yes, I could give it all to Blake. And when I realised I could walk away and survive, I knew I didn’t need to. The show will go on.

Those two out of three aren't the traditional ones, but they still ain’t bad, and are what I aim for in all aspects of life.