Playing the Padre

I've been rehearsing the play, Hamp, over the last few weeks. It's a Stageworks production, and performances begin next Wednesday (the 13th, August).
I'm playing the otherwise unnamed 'Padre'. He doesn't appear until the beginning of the second act, when the court martial of the title character takes place. He has three pages of dialogue at that point with the prosecuting counsel, and then vanishes again until the third act, when he comes into his own.
He's a no-nonsense character, has a true Christian faith, but is deeply troubled by the events taking place around him: not just the War itself, but the particular problems relating to Hamp's trial. His anger rises to the surface quickly, and often, because he's forever having to face men who treat other men too casually, and who regard Army rules as of more value than human life. It's a difficult part to play, but rewarding.

Little Women at the Playhouse, Dunedin

At this point, there hasn't been any review of Stageworks' latest production, Little Women, so this may fill the gap for the time being.

This adaptation by Peter Clapham of Louisa May Alcott's popular book play is being presented at the Playhouse, Dunedin, and is directed by Liz Nisbet, who also directed two other very successful productions in recent years: A Christmas Carol, and The Diary of Anne Frank.

There have been three film versions of Little Women over the years, the most recent in 1994. All three films had strong casts, and were very popular, so the story is probably still very well-known. Certainly people I've spoken to are familiar with it, and women in particular remember reading it with fondness.  This dramatised version focuses mostly on the original book whereas the movies have included some of Good Wives, the sequel.

It concerns the March family: Mr March has gone to be an army chaplain during the American Civil War, and has left his wife (Ruth Wheeler) and four daughters at home, along with the longsuffering housekeeper, Hannah (Sandra Shaw-Bennett). The March family are struggling financially, something that their wealthy Aunt March (played with enthusiasm by Carol Kruger) delights to rub in their faces. She also attempts to use the withdrawal of her money as a threat at times, to keep the family in line. In spite of their somewhat straitened circumstances, the March women are concerned for those poorer than themselves, and attempt to help where they can.

The four daughters, Jo, the writer (played with great energy and humour by Clare Thomson), Meg (Imogen Davis), Amy (Ava Straw) and Beth (Imogen Corbett) love each other - and squabble with each other, as siblings will.  Each has her strengths, and each of them is forced during the course of the story to deal with situations that extend them in some way.  The Christian underpinnings of the story are clear, from the need to forgive even the most 'abominable' behaviours to acting sacrificially when the need arises. Marmee (as Mrs March is known) has definite Christian convictions and presents them quietly and confidently to her daughters. She is a gentle woman, yet strong enough to keep her daughters from making enemies of each other.  Her highest moment of passion - in the play at least - is when she makes an urgent trip to Washington to care for her husband, who has 'the fever' (that all-encompassing word that covers anything that laid low people at that time).  For once we see her almost losing her calm.

There are male characters in the play (Mr March himself appears only at the last minute), but they tend to be satellites in orbit around the vividly drawn females. Laurie, the shy young man from next door (played by Lyndon Katene), is seen as a 'brother' to Jo rather than a lover - Jo isn't into falling in love. Laurie is a gentleman at all times, and willing to help the family in any crisis.  His grandfather (Bert Nisbet) is a seemingly severe old man - we understand why this might be in a moving scene in the second half of the play. However, he's also willing to use his sizeable income to help the family out when necessary.  And Laurie's relatively young tutor, Mr Brooke (James Tregonning) falls in love with Meg, as well as accompanying Mrs March on her trip to Washington.

Since the play relies heavily on its female characters, it's great to see an excellent group of women in the roles. They skip the play along at a great pace, and there's never a dull moment.  In fact, while the first half was entertaining in itself, the second half, where there are more dramatic scenes, proved even more engrossing. Last night's audience was thoroughly involved in the story, with some laugh-out-loud moments, some tears, and a satisfying feeling of having seen a good play well done.

A set of photos by Ian Thomson from the dress rehearsal can be found here.

Printer to Script to Plays to Television

Following the example of my daughter, who has to print out pages and pages of University material this year, we bought a Brother printer which prints at speed - but only uses black ink, no colour.  (But there is a cash back promise comes with it.)

No problem, we thought: we hardly ever use colour.  Of course the first two things I print out both have colour in them...  We haven't got rid of the printer that does do colour; if really necessary we can just hook up that printer and go for it.

One of the items I was printing was the script for Grimhilda! - the prompt needs a copy.  It was printed in record time.  Stageworks, the company that's producing the musical, has a wonderful lady called Jan who'll be doing the prompting.  She prompted for The Mousetrap, and very occasionally got herself accidentally seen by some members of the audience (if they were paying attention to what went on backstage) when the downstage door was opened just a little too far by one of the cast.  Or when, as one night, it opened by itself...

Jan also prompted for The Christmas Carol, which we did a couple of years ago.  Prompting is not a job I'd like to do.  It seems simple reading along in the script as the play progresses and hoping nobody will dry.  That's the easy part; it's when an actor skips a section and another actor has to follow, and the poor prompt isn't sure whether they'll catch up with what they've missed, or forget about it entirely.  That's what happened to me once, in The Magician's Nephew.  The young fellow playing Digby skipped a page or so of dialogue, and, because I was in the wrong place for the line he spoke, I went completely blank in a way I've never done before.   The prompt was on the opposite side of the stage, and was prompting like billyo, but for some reason I couldn't pick up what he was saying - there was what seemed to me to be an eternal pause before we managed to find our own way back to native soil.

I always admire actors who do weekly television series, especially those who get long speeches that they've got to have memorised within a couple of days and be able to say with the utmost conviction.  I'm a slow learner, comparatively, and like to feel my way into lines so that by the time I'm on stage with them I feel utterly confident.

Which reminds me, for some reason, of last week's Doc Martin episode, and the uncongenial Doc's remarks to the funeral director's son who was taking supplements of various kinds in order to make himself stronger and bigger (and more attractive to the ladies).  He was also having cod liver oil (which made him unattractive to the ladies - one of them telling him to stay 'over there, your breath stinks.')   He was also tanning himself, and the cellar in which he was doing this was not only full of muscle-building supplements, but tanning supplies.  Doc Martin stormed in there, barely managing to avoid hitting his head on the very low beams, and verbally set the place alight, giving the funeral director himself an earful for letting his son go through all this nonsense - and bringing on him some obscure medical problem in the process.

People on these medical dramas/comedies never have plain ordinary illnesses.  You wonder where the writers dig up all the peculiar problems that beset the characters.   I understand that variety is the spice of life on television, but some of the illnesses are just plain ridiculous - though not to the characters, obviously!