Tuesday 30 August 2011

Impossible

Seven Impossible things to consider before breakfast:

...It is impossible to find something you've lost around the house when the one place you're sure it is isn't...

...It is impossible to resist joining in when someone else sings the first the first five cords of "Also Sprach Zarthustra"... 

...It is impossible to post anything through a letterbox that has brushes without bending it...

...It is impossible to watch a film which you know has a 'great twist' without constantly trying to guess it...

...It is impossible to tap the side of a beer can with a pen without thinking of the old cricketing theme tune...

...It is impossible to play Monopoly without one player sulking and another becoming a money hungry despot...

...It is impossible to remove a bogey from your fingertip in less than three attempts...

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Friday 12 August 2011

Transformed

"Will you look at that! Look how she moves! It's like Jell-O on springs. Must have some sort of built-in motor or something. I tell you it's a whole different sex!"
Jerry / Daphne, 'Some Like it Hot'

One of our old tutors from drama school, recently surfaced on Facebook which reminded me of an acting exercise we did with him.

The brief was that during a break from the school we were to observe someone well known to us so that we could become them as a character. Unfortunately for me I went into hospital at that time for a minor op which meant I had very little time to observe much more than the shocking state of the ward. I therefore had to make a very quick observation of the only person I was in close contact with between operation / recuperation and returning to school - namely my father.

On returning after the break the exercise began in earnest. As my school was very big on Stanislaski and Method Acting this meant a great deal of wandering around in character as much as possible or even taking it further and walking into the local town. As I moved down the street with the slow measured pace of my father I could see other students hobbling with crunches, fidgeting uncontrollably and generally making a fool of themselves as only acting students can. I gradually became aware that everyone else was dealing with very extreme characters or at least characters very different from themselves. I, on the other hand, was discovering that my father and I were much closer in personality then I had previously realised. However, this hadn't escaped my tutor who also thought this character wasn't stretching me enough.

The final part of the exercise was to 'perform' the characters to the rest of our fellow students. Each person would enter the room, introduce themselves and then take questions from the floor staying in the role the whole time. So before this final exercise my tutor set me a challenge.

"Make your father a transvestite"

This was in 1990 and although society still had some way to go before reaching the level of understanding towards homosexuality that we have today is was becoming less of an issue, particularly within the world of theatre and acting. I was to witness one or two 'spectacular' closet departures by friends during my time at  the school. However, those of a trans-gender persuasion had yet to find their voice in the world. Even Eddie Izzard had yet to publicly find his 'high heeled' feet by then. I wanted to to do the character justice and not resort to a stereotype or, even worst, something out of Monty Python ("Oh, fornicate the Penguin!"). After all, this was my father I was dealing with here, all be it in an alternative reality style scenario.

My tutor very much left it up to me to find my father's new 'voice' as it were. The only thing he did insist on was secrecy. In theatre nothing beats getting one over on the audience so my transformation soon became the biggest secret going. Only the two main tutors for my year plus one friend, whom I called on to lend me some of her clothes and help with my make-up, were in on the 'twist'. So on the performance day with the additional aid of a hair clip, a clutch bag, some strappy-sandals and some strategically placed balled-up socks (possibly the only time you can wear socks with sandals) I was ready. For obvious reasons (to those in the know at least) I was kept until last and on entering the room everyone was shocked into silence as I sat and introduced myself as Barbara.

Some thought it was a joke, possibly in either good or bad taste. Some believed I was playing with fire and that the tutors would drag me (pardon the pun) over the coals for pulling such a stunt. As a result the questions were very slow on coming as no one, especially those who thought my character was based on my father. Finally one student, who was often critical of other people's work and no doubt wanted to be the one to point out the Emperor's lack of clothes, said,

"You have a very deep voice for a woman."

To which I smoothly replied,

"That's because I'm a man."

The room seemed to suddenly relax but also lean forward at the same time. Questions now quickly came to people, not only to find out more about Barbara but also about the man behind her (or inside her or outside or which ever way you want to see it). I confidently explained my life and the reasons I did what I did and was what I was, mixing fact with fiction so that my father and Barbara flowed together. Fianlly the session ended and Barabra slipped away.

But if the questions had came think and fast during the exercise then it was nothing to the barrage I received after. Or rather the same question over and over,

"Is your dad really a tranny?"

It took quite a while to explain the whole plot and reasons behind the birth of Barbara. But I thoroughly enjoyed the experience and the effect it had on everyone. However, I did feel a little bad for my Dad. Partly because I'd had to 'enhance' his character for the performance. But mostly because when he next met some of my friends he was relentlessly ribbed about the day he'd been turned into a women. And the name Barbara also stuck for a while. (Sorry Babs)...

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Tuesday 9 August 2011

Think

Think
Think first
Think of what you are doing
Think about whether it helps or it hurts
Think if this solves anything or just makes it worse
Think of the innocent
Think about what you do does to them
Think of the pain you cause and in whose name
Think of the others
Think of those on the top floor
Think how happy they are that you screwed up once more
Think about yourself
Think about what is true
Think about how they will just use this against you
Think of an answer
Think of being heard
Think of dropping and swapping a brick for a word
Think again
Think

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Monday 8 August 2011

Glimpse

There are so many brightly burning stars in the world of film, television and pop culture, and all we mortals wish for is the chance to meet one of two. Especially as a child.

Nowadays everyone gets to feel a little like a friend to the famous through the magic of Twitter or Facebook, although it seems to me more akin to 'licensed stalking'. However, back in my childhood touching the hem of the great and the good was far more personal. Back then it was about writing fan mail and hoping for a reply. Or clutching an autograph book while waiting hopefully in opportune places. Or though chance meetings in obscure locations.

Before marrying my dad my mother was lucky enough to have brushed shoulders with several famous people. Firstly as a teenager when she danced in Summer Season in Weymouth and again when she later worked at the BBC. There she was part of the production team of, among other shows, 'This Is Your Life'. I always remember two photographs of my mum which sat with pride in my grandparent's house. One was of her in a chorus line of dancing girls with Benny Hill in the middle and another was of just her and Eamonn Andrews standing together in a corridor at the BBC Television Centre. Although she moved on from there to raise a family Mum still knew people who worked at "The Beeb". One day, thanks to one of these friends, we all got to take a trip around the Television Centre.

I think her friend was an assistant producer at the time and would later on go on to work on 'Only Fools and Horses. Just then she was working on a small comedy ironically called 'Mr Big', staring Peter Jones, Prunella Scales and Ian Lavender. On the day we went there they were rehearsing the show prior to shooting in front of an audience. We first got to see briefing inside 'The Booth' where the production team worked and then sat in the studio itself  while the cast ran a couple of scenes.

I remember thinking how small the whole place appeared to be. In front of us was the set which the actors were working on; the regular 'home' set which was used for every episode. To the left of that a second set waited ready for a later scene. Stacks of lights and monitors hung from the ceiling obscuring most of the action. I don't remember the dialogue but we basically watched them pretend to cook some beans on their small stove for about twenty minutes while the cameramen slid backwards and forwards in their own little ballet. Unfortunately as they were working we didn't get to meet these particular stars before continuing with the tour.

We walked round the circular corridors of the inner part of the building looking at the statue of Helios in the central courtyard and taking in Mum's old office. We also had a drink in the infamous BBC canteen before sticking our heads into another studio. Here they were rehearsing that badly conceived yet amazingly popular 'Black and White Minstrel Show'. It seems impossible to believe that such a programme ever made it to mainstream TV but that was the seventies I suppose. I'm just glade that things have improved since then. Being a rehearsal there was no make-up so it was just the 'White and Whiter Minstrel Show'. Still doesn't excuse it but at least makes for a better memory. With or without make-up they meant nothing to me so we moved on again.

Just as we we finishing the day, and having yet to actually meet anyone face-to-famous, I saw someone I truly idolised. If I tell you I was seven years old at the time you may understand my wonder when there in front of me stood - Derek Griffiths! He was strolling down the corridor towards us, as cool as anything, top to tail in denim. I know that to children of the seventies there are certain names which even when spoke softly to oneself will evoke the warmest of feelings. Names such as Chloe Ashcroft, Johnny Ball or Fred Harris. Floella Benjamin, Carol Chell or Stuart McGugan. These are names from the two big roles of honour; 'Play School' and 'Play Away'. And of them all Derek Griffiths was my hero as he clearly was the joker in the pack.

To my joy he stopped and chatted to the family, gave me his autograph, joked with us and also called over and introduced Toni Arthur who happened to be passing by (there you go - another warm, fuzzy name). After what seemed to me to be hours of banter he said goodbye and went off to work. I left the TV Centre feeling like I was stepping off Mount Olympus having shaken hands with a god...

Altogether now... 

"It really doesn’t matter if it’s raining or it’s fine, just as long as you’ve got time 
To P-L-A-Y play-away-way, play-away-a-play, play-away-way, a-play-away, play-away..."

(Many years later I was to have another brush with a icon from the 'Play Away' hall of fame, but I'll save that for another day...)

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Friday 5 August 2011

Beef

August Mooo-vie Quiz

We've done chickens so now its the cows!

...In the Australian Outback a reptile monikered man pacifies a cow by waggling his fingers and humming (beat that Paul McKenna)...

...In mid-west America a group of storm-chasers are stopped in their tracks by the sight of a flying cow...

...In depression hit America three escaped cons discover that the one thing George Nelson hated more than his nickname was cows...

...Outside a castle in East Germany two members of the French Resistance try to gain entry disguised as a cow - in boots!...

...In the old West a man rides into town on a bull, just don't shoot him as you'll only make he angry...

...Three buddies from New York go cattle herding and along the way one of them delivers a calf, buries two horses and finds his smile...

...On a remote island a yet to be opened theme park delivers a live cow into an animal pen, not as an exhibit but for 'lunch'... 

...As our world in invaded by little green men several strange sights are seen including a stampede of flaming cattle...

... In a village in Transylvania a vampire hunter, fresh from tackling Mr Hyde, witnesses a flying cow...

...Inside an English castle, surprisingly inhabited by the French, the order goes out to "Faites chier la Vache", what could happen next?...

Answers

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Monday 1 August 2011

Scattered

Once closely caught up in each other
The group at distance fondly wonder
What each member now is thinking,
All together separate. Linking
Only through a webbed wide world
That so miraculously unfurled
To serve, to mend the gaps which grew
Through time and space, and start anew.

Seeking out the wandering host
To join once more; to laugh, to boast.
Share images of recollection
Plus proud parental snapped affection
Prove we could grow up. Who thought
Shadows could slip away uncaught?
But lives which went in parallel
Now converge again and swell.

Globe is girdled in an instant.
"Is that you? No! It isn't!"
"Oh yes it is! Well OMG!"
From homeland to antipode.
She cracks a joke. They drop a line.
“Saw Such-a-one today. Looked fine”
Warm remembered clicks and clinches
Mixed with future hopes and wishes.

Standing, sitting, fingers weaving
Feeding truth, dreamers believing.
As messages go out through ether,
Calling back yet urging further.
Here all moments captured show
What we want those gone to know.
Sharing out our troves and treasure
Before all goes beyond all measure.

The seeds of grain once castaway
On winds of friendship swoop and sway.
As solo motes that swirl as one,
A flock of folk dance in the sun
To glint and shine like dusted gold.
So as we shift and life unfold
Let change not hinder us, nor matter
But fly together as we scatter...

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