A hit, a very palpable hit

Hello everyone! Surprised to see me? I have been in the internet wilderness for quite some time now, recovering from the unavoidable ‘post-show blues’ and getting back to normal life in London.

First of all, WOAH! I can’t believe it’s December… and what’s all that white stuff falling from the sky?… And, why is it so damn cold? Never thought I’d have to wear 2 pairs of socks, gloves and a scarf in my own flat!

Enough waffling, the reason why I am back, is to tell you all dear readers, that HAMLET - our Hamlet - Sheffield Crucible’s Hamlet - has been nominated for BEST REGIONAL PRODUCTION at the ‘What’s On Stage Awards: 2011’

Great news, eh? So yes, I am shamefully pluggin away to get as many votes as possible, which of course involves me coming back to my dear blog and asking you all to support us!

Please click on the link below, follow the instructions and vote. It won’t take you longer than 2 minutes. That, I can guarantee.

http://awards.whatsonstage.com/

We all had such a great time on the show, it was received so warmly and generously by the audiences that trekked up to Sheffield to see it… What better way to see in 2011 than with a little trophy? 

I have failed in my half-promise to blog every night this week. For that, I am sorry. But I just want to say, that today, has been one of the greatest days I’ve had here in Sheffield. Truly, a great, great day.

It started with an early start, venturing into town to get some much needed food before I was whisked away with Jonny Humphreys on a Shakespeare voyage to a local High School in Sheffield. I was fortunate to be asked by Jonny to help in a Shakespeare / Hamlet workshop to a 34 strong group of pupils who study Theatre Studies at their school - who were also attending the show this evening.

It’s wonderful to see eager pupils so interested in drama. A mixture of 17 & 18 year olds who were by the most part, a very keen group of students, interested in the works of Shakespeare and Hamlet. Most of them having never seen a production of Shakespeare, let alone Hamlet, were ever attentive and fully up for getting their hands dirty and jumping in the deep end, so to speak and work through some of the tasks Jonny had set out for them. Starting with the famous ‘To be, or not to be’ speech, they split up into pairs and worked through the thoughts and actions Hamlet is thinking about. Every step, Jonny adding another layer, getting them to punctuate each thought with a different movement, also getting them to question the words in the speech that they didn’t understand to get some clarification. It was so nice to see them so eager to work and I was in awe of their respect for each others work and ideas about it.

It was also nice for me, who’s nothing to do with that moment in the play, to discover how I would say the famous speech. And try some of the tasks out myself, to see if they could bring out in me some deeper understanding of the text. Next, we moved on to the opening scene, very much like the ‘page to stage’ workshop we held at the theatre not so long ago. Again, the scene was met with enthusiasm, and myself reading in my own part of Barnardo. I found it bizarre, a crystal moment of weird-ness to hear other actors read in the lines that I was so familiar of hearing by my fellow cast members. Refreshing then, to hear the words of this scene being brought to life in a completely different way than say of Colin, or Rod.

They broke off in to pairs of 4 or 5, and gave a little rendition, their take on the opening scene. It was lovely to see younger actors, bring a whole new idea to the opening scene - which later I think, would give a huge pay off when they saw it done at the Crucible. After all that, a quick Q & A and off I was, back to the Crucible to do our last Thursday performance of Hamlet! I told you it was a tick lists of ‘lasts’.

Tonight was a good show, everyone on top form, playing, not denying or inventing - but merely enjoying the play and all that it’s worth. Both John’s are forever playing, trying out new stuff, saying lines differently and making the show, then, a completely different one from that of rehearsals. The last scene itself was gripping, mesmerising. The hush of the audience when John collapses in Colin’s arms and says, ‘… the rest they say, is silence’ gave me goosebumps.

But nothing, NOTHING could have predicted what was going to happen at the curtain call. After all the nods and bows we all do separately as a company, at the end of the play we all join hands as a whole and give one last bow to the audience. At this time, almost the entire Crucible auditorium stood, in unison, to appreciate what they had just seen. It was incredible. A moment that I will cherish forever. It is saved in the memory bank. We just stood there, not wanting to bow because the applauding was so overwhelming. Then like a bunch of school kids, ran off to the dressing room and giggled and swooned over what we had just achieved. A moment of pure joy, gratification and sadness. Ay, sadness. Yes, I said it.

Because my dear readers, we have only 3 more shows to go. THREE! And our Hamlet will be put to rest. I wish it could go on for longer, but I think there’s something special in the fact that it is such a short run and not in ‘the home of theatre’ : London. It’s like a present we have bestowed on Sheffield and those lucky enough to have seen it have been a part of that present.

I can’t complain anymore, about the coughing or my own displeasures at a bad performance. I’m in a great show, with a fantastic cast that I will without any hesitation call my family.

How lucky am I, eh? Theatre is a magical thing.

Well tonight’s show epitomised the notion of a Tuesday show, I think! With a two day break, the show was always going to be a ‘fly by the seat of our pants’ show. It’s like you need a little reminding of what’s coming next, what you’re supposed to be saying and doing. It’s only when you’ve said it, or moved to the spot in which you’re supposed to be standing does it all come flooding back. And by then, of course, it’s too late. You’d think that having a two day break shouldn’t be that harmful, but I suppose the break, although well needed, is a chance for you to switch off from Elsinore and think of other things, non-Hamlet orientated. So when faced with going on stage for the opening scene, I find myself second guessing my words, second guessing my moves, as if I have been absent from it for longer than 48 hours.

But it was okay, in the end. The audience seemed to like it, we didn’t add any minutes to the running hour so all was ok. But you know what I mean? Generally backstage, the show seemed to be painful, but out there in the seats, they seemed to enjoy it - so that’s all that matters, right?

Talking afterwards to some of the cast in the bar, I think the mood overall is one of knowing the time is near to call it a day. John Simm I think, is happy that it will end in a week. I know that he feels incredibly lucky to have done this, enjoyed every second, but the length of the run is fitting to him and to everyone else. I know Colin can’t wait to join his wife in Vancouver. I am eagerly awaiting the return journey home to London. It’s a feeling of sadness but of anticipation, too. A knowing.

It’s crazy to think that I still get butterflies before every show. Even this late on in the run, when I see the cue light backstage flashing green, giving me permission to walk on and deliver my Barnardo lines to Joe Mydell, my belly does a little backflip. This, I think, is a good thing. It shows I still care. It shows I still enjoy it. And I don’t think I’m the only one who still feels this. Backstage, we still all care very much about the work we’ve created. Still ever analysing the scene we’ve just done, still wondering if the audience were listening, got that part or got that moment. We’re a great group, always wanting the show to be the best it can be. And finding it disappointing when we haven’t lived up to the best of our ability.

I know tomorrow will be okay, we’ve found our way and will get into our stride, once again. It’s just a show at the end of the day. Just a play. Just a bunch of actors on stage. But what a play! And what a bunch of actors! It will be a good week. A sad one, to say good bye to it all, but a good week nonetheless. 

It’s the last week, people! The end is most definitely nigh. So, as a treat for you all, I will attempt (‘attempt’ being the key word in this sentence) to blog every night of this week, leading up to our very last show on Saturday. I may do one on Sunday, depending on a) my hangover and b) my post show blues.

It’s strange seeing the end so close. If I’m honest, I’m sort of welcoming the end. Not that I’m growing sick of the play or the company, no no no, it’s just that old familiar saying, ‘all good things must come to an end’. I welcome the normality of it all, the return to my flat in London, I even welcome the return to unemployment (but, not too much - ‘cos that would be ridiculous!). Just a sense of knowing our time at Elsinore is almost at an end.

The question that lies on most of our heads now, is thinking what will be next? What’s around the corner for us thesps? You’ve all read on this blog, about a life on actor, in work. I will still be an actor when the blog ends, my life will continue without this diary, but to what course will my career take? I know not.

I do know something: I have been incredibly fortunate. Fortunate to have a document (albeit, an online one) that has given proof of our incredible journey, from page to stage, from rehearsal room to the Crucible, from no character to three solid creations. I am also a very lucky boy to have you readers, continuing still to log on to this page and read the utter nonsense that comes out of my mouth. Or should that be, out of my fingers?

But! Let’s not go too far down the path of feeling sorry for oneself, just yet. There is still a whole week of shows to come! And a matinee! And, on Thursday, I have been invited by Jonathan Humphreys, full time assistant director at the Crucible to attend a workshop at a local school. It’s something that I’m actually looking forward to, I love that sort of thing and feel delighted to have been asked.

So bring on the last week! Let’s venture to Elsinore this one last time and end on an even higher high!

Keep tuned in people. I’ll try and keep it as interesting as ever. Now, there’s a promise.

Something is rotten in the state of Sheffield. This, I can honestly say, without hesitation or pause, is a fact. Now I haven’t done many plays, (apart from drama school and my one theatre moment a couple of months ago) so I have little experience of this, but, talking to my fellow cast members, something seems to be afoot with the audiences here in the Crucible.

To put it out there, bluntly: coughing. Aaaargh! I don’t know where to start! You can chime in with your excuses and reasons if you like, but for crying out loud, is there a plague in Sheffield that I don’t know about? It’s ridiculous. For the last several weeks, the audiences at the Crucible seem to be in some sort of competition, fighting against one another as to who may have the loudest cough. It’s unbearable and disheartening that from the opening of the play, we actors seem to have to time our lines with any gaps of silence. No wonder we seem to have added 8 minutes to the running time. When one person starts, it’s like a mexican wave flooding the auditorium. You have to understand that the Crucible is a great theatre, the acoustics in that space are brilliant - but this has it’s flaws when coughs bounce around, from one area to the next, like a ping pong ball of illness.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but if you cough, you miss things. People say that ‘the language’ is hard for them to understand, it alienates them as it’s not ‘modern speech’, so then surely that following every word is necessary, for you to get the play, to follow each moment. Now I’m not saying that you shouldn’t cough, if by all means you have a tickly throat or a chest infection, then fine. But I have never witnessed a sort of cough tirade as bad as this.

Now, during our show the auditorium is flooded with ‘haze’. This is a effect used in most theatres, it’s just a mode of creating atmosphere and so that the beams of light are visible. But that’s all it is. Haze. Not dust. I can understand the mentality to a degree; you think you see dust, your mind plays tricks on you and so you feel like you must cough - BUT please notice that throughout the entire production, we the actors, who are in the same space as you, NEVER cough.

For those of you that have already seen Hamlet, what do you think? Am I wrong in being so outspoken? It’s an irritant that I have mentioned a couple of times in my tweets. Most notably, getting a lot of reactions from you guys telling me to calm down. Which is fair enough. I’m ranting, I know I am. Sorry. But it’s a bug bear that I need to get off my chest!

Last nights show was a success and Paul Miller was very happy. Great. We all went out to a local mediterranean restaurant after the show, which stayed open especially for us and had lovely food with the entire company. We had drink, too. Lots of it. The wine poured and we all stumbled home in a drunken manner, very late at night. Or should I say, early morning? It was lovely to see Paul, all of us in good spirits and the show being a particularly good one made the night much more enjoyable. I had some very close friends in, so I didn’t stay there as long as the others. Some of the cast were a bit worse for wear. Fragile I think is the word.

Tomorrow is a double whammy, matinee and evening performance. I enjoy these days, as it’s almost like you fall into a time loop. You get to a particular point in the play and it feels like 10pm at night, then when you look outside your dressing room window and its daylight, it sort of throws you - having being so used to the night time shows.

My whining about the coughing put aside, it’s not that I want you thinking I’m ungrateful or disloyal to the audience, because they are in fact brilliant. Warm, receptive and encouraging. It’s just those damn coughs that sort of make you think we should start handing out cough sweets and packs of lemsip with the programmes! Right, rant over. My bed calls.

‘To cough, or not to cough, that is the question’…. The answer, ‘not to cough’ - please?? 

Oh my dear readers, how I have neglected you! Please accept my most sincerest apologies… but, to avoid plodding down ‘excuse lane’, I have had quite a busy weekend.

“Not good enough”, I hear you all cry, and quite right too. Sorry. But to crack on as if I have never been away is my intention, and so I will do just that. Starting… now.

‘Treat Week’ was fun, wasn’t it? Eh? I hope you all enjoyed my fellow cast members entries. I find it so interesting how other people perceive the show, their methods and their outlook on the whole thing. And anyway, it kept it nice and refreshed.

Since I last blogged (my oh my, that was a depressing one…) the show has been turning along nicely. A well oiled machine. Playing to packed houses, the reception and applause at the end, just wonderful. It’s so comforting that a magnificent cast like the one we have can go out to full houses every night, it’s what the play and production deserve. We as a company are becoming even more tight-knitted, it’s slowly beginning to change from a company of actors, to a family. Which is wonderful. But then, that makes it all the more sad when in a week and a half time we will say goodbye to our hard work and watch as another company and cast step on to OUR stage and perform an all together different show. ‘Me and My Girl’ will be the next production to grace the boards of the Crucible, the cast photos and information has already started popping up on info boards around the backstage area. Which is daunting. Another more daunting fact that in 2 weeks time, I stop getting paid! The familiar sign of seeing a payslip at the end of the week will have vanished, I will go back to being self-employed (cross fingers, not for too long I hope - my agent, take note!)…

It is sad though, that we have to say goodbye to each other. I think this must become a thing you learn to expect when you’ve been doing it a long time, it’s just another job at the end of the day, everyone moves on to pastures new. I think it’s me being a relative newbie that I don’t want that feeling of not hearing the beginners call over the tanoy to get into my place ready to walk on as Barnardo. I don’t want to not be able to play a game of Rummy in the dressing room during the interval with Ben, Harry & Tim (as I type this, I am currently top on the leaderboard - which is good news, as the loser buys a round of drinks!). I don’t want to not have that stupid bowler hat for Osric and front up to John’s Hamlet. I enjoy that little battle, every night wondering “how camp will Osric be tonight?”, he’s a real gem of a part and I enjoy opening the centre stage doors and welcoming that moody Prince back to Denmark.

So yeah, as I mentioned in an earlier blog, leading up to press night seemed like a tick list of things to knock off before the big day. Now sadly, it looks like a new list has formed, ‘the last’ of everything. The last wednesday matinee (that’s already been ticked off), the last Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday/Friday/Saturday shows. The last time you say those lines. The last time you do a voice warm up. The last time, the last time, the last time…. Yes. A new list, of sad things.

And to sign off on this post, I leave you with a question, that I will then answer.

If he were alive today, what would Shakespeare think of our production? The answer, I think and hope would be, that he’d bloody love it. We’ve been known as having a very clear production, people following the whole story and not getting put off by the ‘Ye Olde English’, they have marveled in our dexterity, our use of the stage and with these glorious words. HIS glorious words. I’m sure he’d be really proud that his play was getting a good outing, even now, and that it is so well received. That we don’t need props and fancy technology to help us/mask us… It merely gets in the way of his fantastic play.

So tomorrow Paul Miller returns to see us. I hope and pray that it won’t be like last time. That dreaded performance. No. There isn’t any post weekend blues, we’re in full swing, going through the motions. Delivering.

I’m off to the land of zzzz now. Au revoir you lovely readers. Let’s not wait that long again until we see each other, yes? 

P.S - ‘Treat Week’ isn’t technically over. I have one more surprise up my sleeve, but you might have to wait until the very end to get that one.

Yes, it’s me again. I have returned from the depths of the blog void. Sorry to disrupt ‘Treat Week’ - but I feel now would be a nice point to have an ‘interval’, so you can all join me in the foyer of my little blog universe for sweets, drinks, a toilet break and return to ‘Treat Week’ galvanized for one or two more guest bloggers.

As I write this, the possibility for me to rush off and be sick is very high (sorry to be so blunt & honest) but I am not a well puppy. On top of that, with our two day break away from Hamlet, tonights show was very muddy indeed. Lines went astray, moments were destroyed by over thinking, nothing was fresh - it was a stale, slow show tonight. ‘Don’t worry though, Alex, it’s not like your director was in?‘…

Ah. Well. Right. Hmm.

Paul has been absent from us, the rabble, since Press Night. Which is common place in the theatre world. The director sees you through that hurdle, shoots off to have a well earned break and can come back, if they so wish, to see the show at a later date. When it’s bedded in. Of all the dates Paul could have returned to Sheffield on, of all the performances he could have seen, bless him, tonight was the one he opted for.

Which is a damn shame, actually. It’s always hard after a two day hiatus to get back into the swing of things with ease. Some of you might find this ridiculous, I mean, it’s our job for crying out loud! Every night should be as good as the previous. But no, tonight was a stinker. And to be honest, I feel incredibly disappointed. A personal disappointment as well. I can’t (and never will) speak on behalf of my cast, I have said that everyone has their own journey in this play. Some people have great nights while others flounder. It’s never a consistent, general consensus that when the show is good, everyone is having a good one. Or vice versa.

But yes, tonight was a personal low for me. Not helping that I’m feeling incredibly ill and down in the dumps, but to add to that Paul being in and not having a good show, you get the sense that you’ve let your boss down. That you’re the sidekick to their superhero and you’ve failed them. Even though I haven’t strictly had any personal notes from Paul himself, (those will follow tomorrow, no doubt) I can’t help think that since he’s left, the play has grown - for better or worse - and moments have developed. I’m the type of actor that when something becomes concreted down, set in stone, that I will try and change it. I have a fear of the mundane, the boredom sets in & begin to try stuff out. New stuff, which haven’t been fleshed out in rehearsal, so they can sometimes work. And sometimes not.

Tonight, I went out to enjoy and continue playing. What followed was a miss match performance with no consistency or depth. An actor, acting, instead of a character, breathing. Not good at all.

Tomorrow is double whammy day - a matinee and an evening show. Also, to add to that, a workshop before the matinee with school children at 10:45am… I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel! The illness couldn’t have come at a worse time, so the objective tomorrow is to make sure I get through it unscathed. Plenty of vitamin C, lots of water, stock up on the medication and pray.

Just pray. Pray that all will be well.

And so ‘Treat Week’ continues with my dear friend and fellow cast member, Ben Lamb. I hope you enjoy it, it’s a great insight from a very talented man:

Alex has asked me to write a little about my experiences during working on Hamlet, particularly being as it is my first professional job since leaving drama school this year, and I might go on to talk about the telephone man on Saturday night’s performance - but only if you, dear readers, behave….

I trained at RADA for three years and on leaving signed with a lovely agent who started putting me up for work, meeting directors, casting directors, etc. It was a long time before Hamlet that I went up for a ‘general’ with Sam Jones who cast this production. I did a couple of speeches and had a chat with her about how I had found drama school, what I had done before etc. Then many weeks later, my agent asked me to go to Spotlight (a place in central London where they cast a lot of things) to meet Sam again, and Paul Miller. The meeting was similar to the general with Sam, only this time, Paul was asking most of the questions, and I had to read a couple of scenes from the play.

Anyway, even further down the line, when I’d forgotten all about Hamlet (I’m finding as I do more and more auditions that the sooner you can forget about them the better - it saves any heartbreak) I had a call from my agent telling me that I’d got the parts of Voltemand, Fortinbras, and a player, all of which I was very chuffed about, and especially because I had liked Paul so much when I had met him.

However, it was now time to stew. I had found out about Hamlet even before my penultimate public show at RADA, and there was another show, and graduation to go, even before we started rehearsing in north London.

At RADA we have something called a ‘buddy system’, which is a slightly naff way of saying that there are actors in the profession who are happy to give of their time to help the new blood coming through. One of my buddies mentioned that the one thing he realised after doing his first job was that rehearsing and putting on plays in the real world was exactly the same as we had done prior to, and during drama school: I.e. Not to worry. And I did try, I promise.

But when you have a couple of months waiting for the unknown, what is there to do but worry and do excessive amounts of work on the play and your characters in order to assuage your fears.

A phone call from Paul welcoming me to the cast definitely helped, but you get the picture!

The first readthrough was a nerve racking experience - I don’t have that many lines and I didn’t want to muck them up - but from what I hear, everyone continues to feel that to varying degrees every readthrough they come to.

Then working round the table - this was a departure from what I was used to, as at RADA we rarely had time to do this due to the other classes (voice, movement, etc) - we discussed each scene in more detail.

Next, we were on our feet and working through each scene, very similar to the way in which we rehearsed at RADA most of the time. However, what I realise as I continue, is that every director is different. All you can compare between working professionally and not, is the quality of the acting, which is undoubtedly a step up. Beyond that, every director has their own process, every play it’s own unique challenges. I just hope those of you that have seen or are going to see this production think we’ve done it justice.

And now onto: the phone man!

You may or may not have read on twitter (we certainly did, after celebrating Tim Delap’s birthday in the interval) or elsewhere, about the interruption to the show on Saturday night on account of a gentleman’s mobile phone going off (6 times).

It started in the first scene, as soon as Alex walked on. He said in our dressing room that he wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but thought it was interference on the speakers in the downstage entrances.

Then Harry and I went on in the scene 2 court scene, and thought it might be music from an iPod or something. We came off and mentioned it to Colin, who had also heard it in the opening scene. He went on to tell us of an occasion when he was on stage in a production of LOOK BACK IN ANGER and was treated to a local police car chase which was somehow being transmitted over the theatre loudspeakers!

Back up in the dressing room we heard the phone several more times, during important setup scenes, such as Laertes bidding farewell to Ophelia and Polonius.

As Harry and I came back down for our next scene, Barbara asked if we had heard Colin stop the show (- we had missed this because as you come down the corridor from the dressing rooms to backstage, there is a section where you can’t hear the show relay on the microphones). Barbara also expressed her frustration that there wasn’t any announcement in the theatre telling people to turn their phones off - in general the Sheffield audiences have been very conscientious about turning their phones off, but to be honest, we couldn’t understand why the audience member continued to let his phone ring: there was one more (particularly loud) ring even AFTER Colin had asked him to turn it off. But that was the last one.

People might think ‘actors should be able to deal with phones going off’ and I would agree with them. We should be able to deal with distractions (within reason!). And generally we do. But there were two problems in particular which happen when the distractions continue: 1) the audience’s concentration lapses and they’re taken out of the world that they have paid good money to enter into, and 2) the rhythm of the play - which is inherently written into any piece, and honed by the actors through rehearsal - is interrupted, also affecting the audience’s enjoyment of the play.

Thankfully the audience seemed to be almost galvanised into enjoying the play, and their reaction to many bits was the best we have had; no more acutely noticeable than when Hamlet was giving his notes to the Player King - ‘to split the ears of the groundlings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipped…’ The audience erupted into spontaneous applause!

So in this instance, while the play wasn’t ruined, if you’re after a good night out, I recommend you turn your phone off…

Ben Lamb

Sorry for the late blog, but I feel I need to post this amazing blog by Tim Delap, (Laertes), so enjoy you lovely, lovely people:

Another episode of Mad Men comes to an end as Hugh cries ‘I am slain’ and so, welcome to my life as Laertes!

Apart from a brief moment at the end of the first half when I appear as one of the players I’m off stage for a good two hours. Lots of time to fill. Apparently when Colin played Hamlet at the Bristol Old Vic his Laertes would go for a run, when Rory Kinnear played him he apparently lived so close to theatre he’d nip home and cook himself a meal. But I’ve decided that Mad Men, cups of tea and the Guardian quick crossword will see my Laertes through his time in France.

Tonight I’ve also got the middle finger of my left hand on ice as during last night’s fight it got whacked. I put my hand to ground a little too early and came a cropper. I cried out ‘A touch, a touch I do confess’ cutting through John’s line in genuine agony. Its not the sword waving hand and its just a bit bruised so all will be fine. When I first got this job mid-way through rehearsals the fight was without doubt the thing I was most worried about. Not having done any sword fighting for about ten years and not much even then I was really concerned whether I was going to be able to learn it in the two weeks we had.

As it turned out I seemed to pick it up fairly quickly and felt rather pleased with myself… until during tech week when we put it on stage for the first time. Perhaps it was due to the generally anxious atmosphere of the tech or just the fact that under the lights and in the space it all felt so different to the rehearsal room but the fight seemed to fall apart. We couldn’t quite get it. Tech time was running out and I just vividly remember Malcolm Ranson’s panicked grin, Paul in a state of total shock and John and I slightly hysterically convincing each other that “We know it!” and “It’ll be fine!”.

By the first preview it was (during the public dress there was an extended moment of improvised foil waving) and it quickly became something I really look forward to. For John and for anyone playing Hamlet it is insane.

He’s been onstage for 3 hours slogging his guts and pouring his heart out and then he has to do a sword fight. Where as I’ve been off stage for two hours falling in love with January Jones.

Apart from my poor little finger last night’s show was a cracker. No texting teens in the front row, no mobiles going off (which has been the case tonight - more on that to follow) but a genuinely rapt audience who gave us an incredible response at the end. Theatre is a weird and tricky bugger. Some nights everything just clicks, feels right, is so exhilirating and on other nights everything can feel a little disconnected.

There’s often no obvious reason why one show crackles and another feels stodgy. But I guess that’s why we do it. Constantly striving for the perfect show and the buzz that comes with it.

Before I sign off it was exactly a month ago that I took the call from Paul and anxiously arrived at Jackson’s Lane to join rehearsals. What a mad, manic, brilliant month its been. I couldn’t have wished for a better, happier way to round off my year. The cast threw me an interval birthday party tonight. I love them all. Now its time for a few birthday pints!

Tim Delap

‘Treat Week’ is in full swing - I hope you’re enjoying other people’s take on Hamlet - And so, to kick off October in the best possible way, today’s entry comes from the beautifully talented Michelle Dockery (Ophelia):

Afternoon, Ophelia here. Before I talk about last nights show, I want to say what a fantastic time we are all having. Sort of seeing the end ahead already, and it makes me sad…!

Last night’s performance was in my opinion our most interesting so far. We had a crowd of students in, around 16 years or so, some of which (mainly in the front row) were distracting little buggers! Whispering, texting on their silent phones, eating sweets, fidgeting and generally being annoying. This made the performance difficult for us. I felt like I was desperately trying, on the one hand to impress them in order to shut them up and get their attention - and on the other, trying not to lose my temper and say something to them, mid speech!

For those that don’t know the Crucible well, it is a very intimate space in the relationship between the audience and performer. They are right there, with us. So my only option as to infact, where appropriate in the play, directly deliver lines, and parts of speeches at them. To which, at first it stopped them frozen - as if suddenly realizing we were actually real people standing in front of them, and not a hologram - but then would simply look at eachother, giggle and simply continue to whisper and misbehave.

The interval came and tempers were increasing. I caught John in the corridor saying ‘If they aren’t moved by the time the 2nd half begins, I’m not going back on’. Too right I thought. It’s impossible having to compete with distractions like this. And so… 15 minutes later we were informed that they had not only been moved from their seats, but removed from the theatre entirely! We returned to the 2nd half with a gaping whole in the auditorium!

We then in fact, started to feel terrible. Some of those kids, I’m sure were loving what they were seeing and wanted to be there, but had to leave as a result of a few misbehaving fellow students. This brought about a discussion back stage between the burial and the sword fight - we talked about disapline, teachers, parents, schools, media all sorts to question why these students were acting in such an unthinking way. When I was at school doing GSCE drama we often had theatre visits. If we were so much to have breathed during a performance, detention or some other form of punishment was guaranteed.

It’s such a shame that it came to that. I almost feel like we sould go to the school and chat to them and tell them why they were dealt with in this way (it may not have been as extreme had there been more seating available in the auditorium. it seemed there was no other choice but to removed them entirely).

Anyway, the first half was a hell of a challenge and in some ways made us work a little harder and from that came about fresh moments in the play. My, “O what a noble mind is here o’er thrown” speech was directed almost solely to one group of people…hmmm, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Farewell friends!

Michelle Dockery

DAY 2 of Treat Week and they’re coming in thick and fast!

So, without further ado, here is Mr Hugh Ross (Polonius) blog entry for today:

It’s been a period of adjustment. All the tension and anxiety from last week, the Press Night ballyhoo, has eased. The notices came out, some of us read some of them and others chose to pretend that they didn’t exist; a lot of critics are inevitably far too familiar with the play, and any objectivity has become an impossibility. 

Here at the Crucible though, something rather wonderful is happening. I’m sure that because of John Simm’s breathtaking popularity, over half of the packed audiences have never seen Hamlet  before, or indeed any other play of Shakespeare’s; and their rapt stillness, their listening, and their wild and ecstatic applause at the curtain call are thrilling to be a part of. It’s a production that in the best possible sense tells the story, and it is delivered by an accomplished and very happy company. 

We were all a bit “lagged” by our luxuriously long weekend. Most of us went home, and doing this huge play took us all by surprise on Tuesday evening; anyway, the audience, including my delightful landlady, her daughter and grandchildren, weren’t small changed. Then yesterday a double whammy, with a matinee.

I met a friend, Annie Firbank, who is in Billy Liar in Leeds, who had popped over for lunch and our first half, and my heart sank at the droves of very excited school kids waiting to get in for the show. In the end, they were terrific, apart from gales of laughter at some sexual references in poor Ophelia’s mad scene. M &S did their usual brisk business supplying our suppers, and then we all wondered where the energy was going to come from for a second show.

We didn’t need to worry. As often happens, the fatigue leads to a sort of relaxation, and it was a great performance, full of invention and new minted. Even though I have been in 5 different Hamlets,  I am still surprised by words, phrases and thoughts I have never really heard before!

Hugh Ross

So here we go, the first of the treats. I shall dub this week, ‘Treat Week’ - catchy, no?

Expect some other cast members to have their say, but to get us off to a flyer, here his Mr Adam Fosters (Guildenstern) blog entry:

Afternoon. Alex has asked a few of us to contribute to what has become, i’m sure you’ll agree, a fantastic blog. So firstly nice one alex. Sterling stuff. As the tannoy relays the last of the show in my ear it is now down time for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. With Hamlet being such an epic play, it provides early baths for some characters and myself and comrade Rosencrantz find ourselves packed off to England with a third of the show remaining.

It’s a stange feeling. There’s nothing else left for us except the curtain call in about half an hour. Whereas for others like Harry who plays Cornelius, he is on lots during the show but his big scenes take place after our departure. It’s similar to when we enter as there has already been 45 mins of the story so it’s up to us to come into it as new characters and inject a different energy and vigour.

Alex talked about keeping the ball up in the air and this is something that we are very aware of having to do when we enter. We’ll have listened to the beginning of the show and will be keeping an ear out for the pace and rhythm of the show and how we are going to fit into it.

The shows are gradually ticking by and last week we were really put through our paces with afternoon calls and then shows up to press night, so this week it is nice to get into the swing of performances.

Every show is a pleasure and as I was born and raised in Shef so it’s extra special walking out onto that stage every evening. It’s good being back in the steel city having not lived here for this long for about 10yrs. I’ve a lot of family and friends here and it’s great that they can come and support us all. Right i’ve got to go and make Rosencrantz a brew or he’ll get mardy so i’ll sign off. Enjoy the rest of the blogs. I’m sure they’ll continue in as fantastic a vein and it’s a privilige to be able to give you an insight.. Ta…

Adam Foster

As I write this, the date on my laptop turns to Wednesday. So, I’m technically cheating with my date of entry. But, pah! Who’s watching over me? The Blog Lords? Poo to you all. I’ll write what I want to write and you can’t stop me!

After nearly getting mugged in the streets of Sheffield tonight, it’s safe to say that the students have returned and are now embarking on the most important week of their academic year: ‘freshers week’. To segue into any relevance of Hamlet whatsoever, tomorrow is our press night, and tonight was our last preview! So yes, up yours Sheffield boys who attempted to steal my money, this is an important week for me too!

On my last entry I wrote about the feeling after a performance. Recently, we as a cast have felt that certain nights have gone well. Funnily enough, those nights Paul has felt hasn’t gone so well. Errr, eh?

Then on the other side of the coin, the nights where we feel are not so good, Paul has been welcoming us with open arms, saying how wonderful the show was. Hmmm. As you can gather, if something feels right on stage, that you yourself or others around you are doing well, it might not read like that for the punters paying their money, sat in the theatre. It’s a conundrum that one.

I feel as a whole, we have had some great previews. All of which have been lessons taught and learnt from us. We are growing with each performance but that doesn’t mean we get it perfect every night. No no no. As far as I’m aware, there have been no duds. I think because it’s such a great play. You can do no wrong, really. But as each performance passes us by, we are as a collective of people trying out something new. We’re testing each other on stage and with this comes some things that work and some things that don’t. That’s the joy of previews I guess. Testing the water and seeing if you float or sink.

Personally, I’m only now (I told you, I’m not a rehearsal man, I’m a audience man!) getting it. Like really getting it. We’ve been talking recently about when not on stage, how to judge your entrance, how to keep the ball in the air so to speak. How to bring on a different energy so that the play stays alive. Now, and only now do I get this. And feel that I’m beginning to participate in this exercise. Others are masters at this. John Simm is taking the show by the balls (again, excuse my language, tut tut tut…) as he quite rightly has to! He is Hamlet, and the show rests on his shoulders. If he’s tired then the scenes begin to be tired, if he’s on it then we can come in and join in with his ‘on it’ness. Bad grammar, apologies. But you get the idea.

We have some pros at moving the play along steadily. ‘Keeping the ball in the air’ is the term used at drama school. I think it comes from understanding how a play works. And experience. But in our cast; Joe, Rod, Colin, Barbara, Adam & Dylan are truly great at this, I think. Not saying the others aren’t but their roles are vital in the piece and keep the play moving along at a steady pace.

Tonight, as previews go, it wasn’t the best. You personally can have a great one (which I did, I loved tonight) but across the board, it wasn’t. The audience was… umm… how do I put this? Loud. Yes loud. As in coughing loud. Bless them, I know how hard it is to keep a cough in, but I think tonight was an exception of the rule, they just battered the coughs out left, right and centre. So we as performers think they’re not listening. So we try harder. But actually, it’s the furthest from the truth.

Tonight they were listening. And the reception we received at the curtain call was ridiculous to say the least. Nice, wonderful and lovely, but ridiculous. It was like being back in the 60’s and we were the Beatles. Lots and lots of screaming girls. Now I may be generalizing here, so slap my wrists if I am, there may have been a few blokes screaming too, but it was a bit weird.

And that’s the point I’m trying to make. It’s a difficult thing, to get an audience. If they are understanding and following the play. We should never try and second guess them. So as press night is only hours away, (again another thing I’d most happily tick off the list) we must do ourselves justice on stage. Connect, enjoy and play. These things I have mentioned time and time again, I know, but they are important. But when the auditorium is full with lots of pen scribbling reviewers, backstage tomorrow we must take it into our stride and go out there and be wonderful.

Because that’s what we are. All 14 of us are wonderful, no matter what the papers will say, no matter how many stars we get or good write ups are received. We are wonderful and I want to take this opportunity to say to my fellow cast members, that it’s been a pleasure, and I can’t wait to see this journey through with you all, to the end.

We are a fascinating bunch of mammals, why do we put ourselves through this? Press night is upon us. I hope they like it, but if they don’t, poo poo to them, I’m enjoying myself and that, in the end, is all that matters.

No matter how happy you can feel after a show, no matter how good it goes, how happy you are with your performance, you can still feel pretty down. Being completely honest in an online blog can sometimes be a hindrance, people feel obliged to say that you’re wrong or have a need to comment on certain stuff that is mentioned. But I feel I have to be honest, or what would be the point?

At the moment, my mood is as ever changing as the Sheffield weather. The highs and lows are constant. You have to understand, the pure adrenaline after doing a show is unquestionably why actors perform. The buzz. The kicks you get when your hard work as a company pays off. Some people have the fear, the fear of speaking in front of a big audience, they baffle at why you would want to perform and let yourself be scrutinized by others. It’s an acquired taste. We choose this profession because it’s what we want to do with our lives. Being an actor, performing on stage or in front of a camera, we do it ‘cos we love it.

Of course, there’s also the other side to the coin. In theatre especially, there’s always the anti-climax of doing a show. This can happen at different points to different performers at different parts of the run. Usually, it occurs at the end of a run, you have what I call, the ‘post show’ blues. 

It’s hard, you invest so much time and energy into a project that when it’s all said and done, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You’ve built up relationships with fellow cast members, there’s a bond there as you’re working in such close proximity. So, it can be devastating to leave a show feeling at a loss. Now of course, I’m speaking from my own experience here. I’m only young. The biz is still new to me. I’m guessing that with age and experience, you learn to deal with this sort of thing. A job is just a job, it’s what pays the rent. But just starting out in this wild profession, knowing stuff like this is vital - not that it stops you from feeling what you feel. And I tend to be the worst sufferer of the lot.

And again, to come at it from my own point of view, I’m wary of the whole thing. This is an excellent job and to leave it at the end will be difficult, but part and parcel of this crazy thing we call ‘acting’.

Now, enough of that.

The show! Yes! Well, it’s going well, you’ll be pleased to know. Saturday night was the best we’ve done it, I think. Speaking to the others after it, there was a sense that we’re warming into our roles, getting the rhythm of the piece. It’s nice to know that with so much of it to go, we’re not at the best stage yet, so the full fun of playing is still yet to come. We’re not all on 100% - and it’s not a worrying thing. This show is a beast and it will grow with time. To be a super beast, if you like!

My girlfriend came to visit over the weekend. She saw the show on Saturday night, it was so nice to have someone in the audience. So nice to have her in the audience. Both of us are working actors and find that time together is precious. So when I had to say goodbye to her today (knowing that I may not see for another 5/6 weeks) was tough. Really tough. Being in a relationship with someone who’s in the same profession as you is rewarding as it is difficult. Both of us are completely fortunate to be working in great jobs at the moment, but, this means that we’re spending more time apart than together. I will miss her so much, happy though that she got to see the show and that she liked it!

Press night is only days away. Another thing to tick off the list before we can just crack on. And that is what we all just want to do: crack on.

So that’s that then. Technical rehearsal: over. 3 days of perfecting our work from the last 4 weeks of rehearsal, onto the stage, adding the lights and sounds, putting on our costumes and creating the show. Easier typed than done.

For those of you not knowing what a technical rehearsal is, or a ‘tech’  (pronounced t-e-c-k) as we call it, (theatre lingo, it’s all the rage these days, apparently) is something of a special process only theatre actors would know about. It’s everyone collaborating together to create something magical, a process over a period of 3 or 4 days (depending on the show) where the objective is to realise the vision of the designer and director. People can understand rehearsing a show, and people, of course, can understand performing a show, but, there is that little nugget of hard work that is rarely acknowledged, smack in the middle of those two things. It’s one of a kind.

A slow, sometimes infuriating couple of days where we lock ourselves in the theatre, working 10 ‘till 10, with stage management adding their little touches to the play that we’ve created in the rehearsal room. You have your sound, your lights, your props, your costumes and your entrances/exits to be worked out. You have the space to contend with too, (the rehearsal room is in by no means a comparison to the magnificent Crucible) and it can sometimes be tedious, but more often than not, it’s a joy to witness all the components slot together. The finished article being what you see when you rock up to the theatre. The highs of the tech are great, just knowing and loving the hardwork of the unseen people, working together, a sense of something magical taking place, to create this show. The lows of the tech are painful. A lot of waiting around seems to be the main one.

But we should not complain, as it is our job, very alike an artist waiting for his paint to dry. Yes. An awful comparison, but hopefully you understand what I’m trying to say.

And that’s that. Tomorrow is going to be an exciting day. Lot’s going on and it’s crazy to think that this is it. We are doing a ‘closed dress rehearsal’ at 1.30pm, basically putting on the show but with no one in the audience, just to fine tune the thing before the public get their mits on it. Then at 7.15pm we will open the doors to the audience and perform an ‘open dress rehearsal’. Things will go wrong, some bits won’t look right and I can guarantee you there will be times where the actors (probably me) will walk on and do one (or all) of the following: be in the wrong clothes, say the wrong lines, come on too early, too late or not at all. This is bound to happen and I’m the optimist! True story.

Yet again then dear readers, I will love you and leave you. Big day tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep.