I haven’t blogged for a while, it just sort of seems like maybe when you can go onto a website, type for a bit and then end up fucking another human being (more often than not for free) that my little spluttering on what I’ve been up to seems somewhat less of a sexy option.
Unless of course you are slumped on your sofa after a web based jizz session, tired, and up for a bit of reading, well then you, my sticky friend are in luck.
So, today, I went to Brighton. I’ve got a little part in a play on at The Brighton Fringe, one which I’m not producing, writing or worrying about, so it’s been lovely just taking a couple of trips down from London to rehearse my bit. However, when it comes to the beach, I have to confess, I’m not a fan. I mean, I like the theory, a bit of water to break up the tedium of all that land we’ve got knocking about, somewhere for the Seagulls to circle around and occasionally shitting on a tourist, a place to soak up the UV and transform into “Short Wearing Lobster Boy” but, ultimately, it’s not really for me.
I guess my disapproval comes down to the fact I can’t swim. I know, shock horror, a man in his 20’s can’t stay afloat in water. I mean, we don’t need to swim do we? I’m quite bad at sex on dry land so I have no interest to “love up” in a pool, I look terrible in small wet pants (so much so that my parents had to write a letter to my school requesting permission for me to wear swimming shorts to avoid embarassment during swimming lessons), I’m not that interested in flapping alongside some dolphins and I really don’t want to get a veruca nor glide through some snotty kids piss in a local leisure centre. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything exciting yet every time I step onto a beach my seaside anxiety creeps in. What if a gang of crabs sneak under me and drop me into the water, what if a man on a stag do dressed as a giant Seagull rolls me into the wet stuff and I drown both angry and humiliated. What if I, at some point in the future become a Dad, what if I take my delighted child to the edge of the cobbled stones for the very first time and get sucked up in the current, separating us in an emotional Finding Nemo style recreation and I leave behind the legacy of “the grown man who couldn’t swim”.
The sea is mocking me, every single time, but I guess I’m ok with that, whilst strolling along the pier, tiptoing carefully over the slats with the waves crashing beneath me in a sarcastic tone I know at the end there will be Waltzers, and I fucking love waltzers.
Thanks for reading, there’ll be another one soon, for now I’m off for a bath and need to find my armbands.
A very lovely review of my play “Between Ten & Six”
“I’d like to preface this by announcing to everyone that I am not a man who takes travelling from Northampton to London lightly. Seriously, I have to catch a bunch of trains, I get lost, and I end up in Camden spending all my fucking money before travelling home at 2am, drunk and £60 lighter.
With that in mind, my recent trip to London was actually the best idea I’ve had in a while. Ever heard of Chris Mayo? Writer, standup comic, serial tweeter? Well if you haven’t, you should have. I’ve found this guy funny since I saw his cynical and self deprecating humour on my friend Jessi’s twitter, and when he announced that he’d written a play… well…
Between Ten and Six is a one act play, set within a dingy flat, and with the main focus being on two main characters. Charlie, played by Mayo, is a neurotic, anxious, quivering guy, towered over by Ed, played by Owen Llewelyn. Charlie moves in to Ed’s new flat, and is pressured into waiting with his new room-mate for a package, due to arrive between 10 and 6 (aaaah, see what they did there?). What follows is a tense, hilarious and striking performance…
Sat in the sold out Et Cetera Theatre in Camden I slowly and cautiously sipped my pint as the actors took to the stage. I took one last gulp, and didn’t get to drink any more for about an hour afterwards. Not that there were rules against this, I just spent so much time laughing that I didn’t want to spit-take all over the three rows in front of me.
I was stunned, Mayo NAILED his character, every little awkward thumbnail bite, cross of the legs or hair flick all looked natural, and his stammering voice delivered his lines with startling authenticity. The same can be said for Llewelyn, who was essentially every flat-mate’s worst fucking nightmare - a bulky frame and booming voice made even the slightest twist of his words “It’s pea stew, NOT soup.” just make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
I’m trying so so hard not to put spoilers into this, just by the way, so read the following paragraph with caution if you’ve not seen the play already…
Supporting actors Samantha Spurgin and Tama Pheathean deliver pretty solid performances as Charlie’s (pardon me) insufferable nag of a girlfriend, and the Courier - Everything seemed to be either very well rehearsed, or seamlessly improvised - the two characters having their final conversations with Ed being some of the mostly darkly humorous scenes I’ve witnessed since Evil Dead.
Just watch it. Seriously, just go, it’s worth the train journeys and getting lost in London, it’s worth losing your life savings in Camden. Just go. NOW.”
You can book tickets here for the London run in April at The Leicester Square Theatre (16th-20th at 7pm) http://leicestersquaretheatre.ticketsolve.com/shows/873488846/events
New stand up video. Filmed at The Covent Garden Comedy Club, Dec 14th 2012.
New theatre company run by myself and actress Rose Leonard. We are currently raising funds for our first production, with a view to doing a full run in 2013.
Any help or spreading the word you could do would be amazing!