Further to my grumblings about auditions last time, shortly after my last post, I received an email informing me that I did indeed get the lead in a short independent film for which I auditioned. Despite the 5.30am start to a day which began with feeding the two overly-excitable pedigrees I was dog-sitting that week, and a struggle with a rogue arachnid in the kitchen, the first day of filming turned out to be an exciting new challenge - as different to my previous roles as it could have been. I play a patient in a psychiatric ward, who decides to escape from the hospital for reasons I won't disclose until further notice. As a result of what was - in my experience - the luckiest bit of location-finding in the British independent film industry, we managed to film the first block of scenes in a disused ward, in a real psychiatric hospital.
Aside from the loveliness and co-operation of the receptionist and nurses I encountered, this was a weird and confusing experience. I should start by assuring you that I did, in fact, write my dissertation on the presentation of the mentally ill on-screen and onstage, and that I do try to be an advocate for acceptance in this sector at all times. However, filming in this particular environment did take some getting used to. This was principally because - even in the disused ward - all corridors are electronically locked, and require a fob to be entered, and so on; the entire cast and crew had one fob between them, for opening what, I assume, were sound-proof doors. My main concern was being trapped between two said doors (in, say, the disused ward), with no one to hear my screams. This was only just second to the fact that I was dressed as a 'psychiatric patient' in a psychiatric hospital; a place in which many genuine psychiatric patients are treated...I honestly wouldn't have known what to say, had I encountered a real patient, nurse or doctor, donning my stereotypical white pyjamas, unkempt hair, and impractical footwear.
That said, a job is a job (albeit expenses only), and hey - I'm the lead! Edgy stuff like this is showreel gold, and any part where I get to wear pyjamas all day and be strapped to a bed for a sustained period of time has to be better than your average nine-to-five. Watch this space for trailers.
Onto the stage; recently, I saw Too Clever by Half at The Royal Exchange; a Russian comedy about class, money, and deceit. The physical performances - under the direction of theatre company Told by an Idiot - were fantastic. As was the use of 60s music, audience participation, and multi roles. I found myself bemused by the plot at times, but it was [mostly] all neatly tied up in the end. Most of all, though, I was intrigued by the individual actors - they could dance, they could switch identity from one scene to the next, they could make you laugh...where did they come from (apart from the one who was the mum in My Parents are Aliens - I knew that much)? How did they get to be so good? Can I join in? Well, after a series of unrelated events, a group of friends and I ended up at a club in Manchester - the same place, so it happened, where the cast were conducting their end-of-show-run celebrations. Being the shameless networking whore that I am, I wasted no time in speaking to the lead actor. He was warm, receptive, and happy to speak to a fan and fellow actor. It was a huge breath of fresh air for him to tell me not to worry too much about getting an agent - "Just do what you want" were his exact words, I believe. So, there we have it - while I'm waiting for the professional world to open its doors to me (even if I have to use a crowbar), maybe wandering the corridors of hospitals in my pyjamas, being eaten by mirrors, and following a deranged girl in a wedding dress around is the way to go. It usually helps if someone's pointing a camera at you, I might add.
'Too Clever by Half' at The Royal Exchange |
So, all that's left is for me to fill you in on my latest 'project'. I mentioned last time that I'd taken to writing a story, or novel...a friend of mine, having read that post, suggested that I make lemonade with my lack-of-acting-jobs lemons, and turn this into a screenplay (inevitably, casting myself as a lead role). And 46 pages later, here I am. It was a wonderful suggestion; you know who you are! I really have found writing my own film a fulfilling, relaxing occupation, and I'm itching to write more as I speak (well, type). The characters have developed nicely, and I'm starting to picture exactly how each scene should look on the big - or small - screen. After what I imagine will be a long editing process, once the first draft of the script is finished, I will advertise for a co-director (to do all the hard stuff), a crew, and a cast. Having acted in a number of films already, I do have a rough idea of the resources I'll need - principally, sandwiches. The long and short of it is that I'm excited, and that I'll have something to do for the indefinite period of no real work.
And - you're up to date! On a slightly more positive note than usual, I hope. I'm off to do some more scripting, and look over what scenes we're filming this week (this time, I get to wear my pyjamas in public - exciting!).
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