What a farce!

My friend James recently commented to me that he was sad to see in my first blog that I have lately lost the great love I once had for acting. I haven't quite lost it as such, it's more that I am just busy with kids and life etc. and I find rehearsals and learning lines more of a chore than something fun to do these days; but yes there is something else gone from the whole buzz of drama for me at the moment and I can't quite place what it is. I have been desperately trying to regain that wonderful buzzy feeling that only comes with going on stage but as of yet, it still eludes me.

I received a phone call from a different drama group a few months ago asking me if I would like to do a play with them . I decided to say yes as it was a brand new play written by a local playwright and it involved travelling around to different venues and I would also be with a whole new group of people. Maybe all of that combined might be just what I needed to help me to regain my enthusiasm for the craft I thought.

The play however was not really my cup of tea. It was a bit too full of the boo-hoo's for my taste and even though it was wonderfully written and I was also with the most amazing drama group (friends for life made there - I hope!), it just wasn't the type of play that I would normally go to see.

Let me give you an idea of what I mean. The play was set in 1986 and my character has returned from Australia after being banished there 22 years previously for having a child out of wedlock. She is staying with her first cousin who has recently been widowed and her cousin's two children.

We discover that first of all that after my character (Joan) had the bastard child, a nun took it off her in the middle of the night and gave it away to be adopted. Then Joan was thrown into a mental institution where she was told that she had schizophrenia and had never actually had a baby at all. She then escapes from the institution (by 'legging it over a wall'. 1964 - very lax security) and goes to Australia.

It then transpires that her first cousins son is really her very own child that was taken off her all those years ago and then he goes mad so it's off to the asylum with him and then to top it all off it turns out the father of my characters baby was my first cousins husband who has just died but who had actually raped my character 22 years previously, Boo-hoo! Boo-hoo! Boo-hoo - NOT for me.

That's not to say that this was a bad play though! In fact audiences loved it and came up to us afterwards and told us how realistic it was and that was exactly the sort of thing that used to happen. Even a top executive from RTE showed a huge interest in it and wanted to include extracts of it in a documentary that RTE were doing about moving statues (Big references to moving statues in the play). However, while he did come to see it he actually got wasted drunk on the night and fell asleep ten minutes into the play and so our chance for fame passed us by in a great big haze of booze.

Not to worry, on to see a Farce last Saturday night preformed by the drama group in town that I usually go on stage with. Now, I have to say here that I'm not normally a fan of Farce. "More tea Vicar"; "Where are your trousers Vicar?";" Is that the neighbours wife/dog/daughter that I have caught you in an 'it's not what it looks like' clinch Vicar?"
Cue leaping out of windows and in and out of doors and many, many, more hilarious misunderstandings.
It just tries too hard in my opinion but I was with my good friends, Trevor, James, Paudie and Colm and it was being preformed by some other good and very talented friends so I was prepared to have an open mind.

This farce was no different to all the other farces that I have been to see. In fact in the opening scene one of the gags was when the vicar stood up and had forgotten to put on his trousers - I mean you couldn't make that stuff up. The cast though were BRILLIANT. While I might not be a fan of farce, I do know that it demands split second timing and copious amounts of energy and all of the cast had that in abundance but no, even though I had left my prejudices for farce at the door and had a BALL - my love for the stage still hadn't been reignited.

A note to the side though, wonderful and all as the play had been, what would a night out at the theatre be if one or two things hadn't gone wrong? Like, for instance, part of the set falling down half way through the performance. Fair dues to the woman in the front row who didn't even flinch as the set came tumbling down towards her and missed her by an inch. Nerves of steel!

Or when the sound engineer mixed up the sound cues and the phone rang instead of the door bell, and it rang and rang and rang and the cast looked at each other nervously and said, "Is that someone at the door?". Myself and my good friend Trevor couldn't resist a bit of a heckle. "Maybe it's a wrong number" we shouted up, "Damn crank callers"(I am not proud of heckling the cast, but alas, I was caught up in the excitement of it all and just couldn't help myself).

Or at the end of the night during the raffle when Trevor thought he was after winning a prize but so did another woman who had the same ticket. They had sold two books of tickets with the same colour and numbers.I thought there was going to be a battle for the bottle of wine or maybe even a tie breaker question but Trevor was gracious and let the other lady keep the prize without a fight (Well- not much of one, just a few choice words about fixes etc.!) I actually had a belly ache from all the laughing I did but perhaps not in all the right places at the moment.

With two wonderful very different plays behind me, I have come to the conclusion, that it is not the theatre that has changed but it is me. I have become old and cynical and have become a hater of all things theatrical! My God - have I become a MOANER???

Now that I am aware of this maybe it is time for me to do something about it. Perhaps the next port of call is for me to abandon all of my cynicism and throw myself into my next project leaving all of my misanthropic and pessimistic views behind.

Yes that's it! that's what I'll do. Suddenly, I feel exhilarated and full of passion and zeal for the next play that it is the pipe line which I believe is Macbeth.

There's just one problem though. You see, I'm not really a fan of Shakespeare...