Níl áon thinteán mar a thinteán homestead as we used to say in the 80's and 90's.
I miss Waterford very much (everybody say awwwwww now and get it over with. Now.) so at the least opportunity I hop on an auld flight and head back to recharge me Déise batteries. Or drink meself stupid as is most often the case. When I'm poor I thank God for Ryanair and when I'm feeling a bit rich I say thank God for Aer Arann, but poor or rich I will never thank god for the bus from Dublin. Four and a half hours of pure torture which ruins any happy homecoming to the land of blaas and the blues. I tell ya my heart always sinks when I see the sign for the Naas bypass only to realise that the bus is not going to avail of it and happily heads the long way. I hate it when I see the Gem approaching. Some day I'll blow it up. Needless to say I get the train when I can. It's not that much better but more than somewhat.
There are various factors that come into play when I plan a trip home. The only time I can go home is when I'm not working on a show in England (Except for this Christmas when I flew home for Christmas day. Lovely day but I was not a happy bunny sitting on a plane at 8.00 on Stephen's morning heading back to Birmingham to do two shows! Painful!) and in those times of unemployment I need to be auditioning. So the best time for me to go home really is when i know I have work coming up, as was the case when I finished filming Judge John Deed. I had about three and a half weeks until I began rehearsals for Wind in the Willows, so I started making plans to head home because surely there won't be any auditions I can do between now and July.
Don't bet on it.
I was just about to book me flight when the agent rang,
"You have an audition for a new film version of Pride and Prejudice. You need to do an RP (posh English) accent. I've told them you can do that. Can you do that?"
Of course I can do an RP accent, was it not with an RP accent that I wowed the audiences at Regent's Park last summer as that sorry English fop Sir Thurio in The two Gentlemen of Verona? Well maybe not wowed but they didn't know i was Irish that was for sure. Hey look I got nominated for a frigging award for it so it can't have been that bad.
"Yes I can do that."
Sound. So I now know when I can go home and as I'm waiting for the script to be biked over to me from Working Title Films (I kid you not! I'm going up in the world!) I hop onto good old Ryanair.com and book meself a lovely flight to dublin for £15 including taxes. How bad. At prices like that i don't mind the journey to Waterford. The train mind, NOT the bus. I hang around for the few days to do the audition taking in a few shows, being the culture vulture that I am, two of which are the press nights for this year's Shakespeares at Regent's park which feature Waterford's best known redhead Mr. Keith Dunphy. And pretty good they are too, helped of course by the fact that because I'm about to be working there myself I get a handsome discount at the bar. Sweet. Oh it shall be a very merry summer methinks!
The audition goes ok, I would say it went very well only for me and me big mouth saying stupid stuff. I arrive at Working Title's office on Oxford Street on the hottest day of the year so far, full biked over script in hand and I'm ushered into a room by a very pleasant casting director. Her first words were;
"Hi jamie, please follow me, I thought you were great in Calico by the way, congratulations."
Nice one! Well that's a good start. How bad. I'm then introduced to the producer and the director.
"Hi Jamie, pleased to meet you. Well done on Calico by the way I saw it on press night and really liked your performance."
Ah Jesus! This is the business. They've already seen and liked my work so that calms me down no end, but maybe too much as the chat is flowing freely for the next few minutes. But they're a grand crowd of people. Then the director's ready to do a little reading. No problem buddy. And I ask him, seeing as the scene is set in a church during a sermon, does he want the delivery 'Colla Voce'? It's only after i say it do I realise. I try to impress the panel by using a musical term, ya know me with the degree in music and all that, and I only give him the wrong one! I should have said 'Sotto Voce'! But it's ok, they'll never know.
"Don't you mean 'Sotto Voce'?" Quoth the producer, who heretofore has been very quiet.
"Yes," I reply, "that'd do too."
What a pleb.
But the reading goes well, and he gets me to do it a few times and films me and all seems pretty cool. they seem pretty happy and we part company and as I'm leaving I utter the immortal line;
"Bye now, enjoy the weather."
Its one of the nicest days of the year and these poor people are stuck in a stuffy casting room for hours on end and I say that. You can only laugh. Otherwise you'd cry. Ah well I have me trip home to look forward to don't I? Well, not necessarily. The day after the phone goes and its the agent telling me I have an audition for an Irish play that's going on at the Glasgow Citizen's Theatre. This is from a tip off I received from that stalwart buachaill Dermot Crowley whom I had the great honour to share the stage with in Calico. He had been offered it and turned it down, but rang me to leave me know it was happening and that I should get on to my agent as there were a couple of good roles in it for me. Top man. Top actor.
"They want to see you Tuesday."
Aw crap. That, of course, is the day i have my flight booked for. Ah well it was only 15 squid, that won't break me. I'll get a cheap flight for the next day. Not a sign of a cheap flight whatsoever, big money. So I say feck it and I splash out on a flight straight to Waterford. 70 notes. Janey its like the days before Ryanair. I grit me teeth and buy it and think of the comfort. The audition goes well though so it seems to be worth it. I had met the casting director for the theatre before when I worked in Scotland in 2002 on Carousel. back then she was very pleasant but i don't think she was very interested as i had only musicals on my CV at that stage, but now was a different matter. The auld CV is a tiny bit better. So in I go and meet two directors and a designer. The Director of the Irish play greets me;
"Hi Jamie, pleased to meet you. Well done on Calico by the way I really liked you in it."
Already I'm a happy camper. I'm liking this trend. The side-effects of Calico are finally being felt. Sound. And it goes really well. I had read the entire play before I went in, 'A Whistle in the Dark' by Tom Murphy, terrific play. She likes my reading and asks me to read a couple more pages (good sign). She's happy and the other director asks me to read a scene from another play they're doing (Very good sign). I like sight reading because its real shit or bust stuff and some good things can come out of nowhere. And indeed it does go well and he explains to me that they might be casting the same people in both plays (through casting as its called) so happy days. I leave, obviously none the wiser whether I'm going to be doing it or not but feeling good after a good audition and happy that I stayed for the day. But happier again that I'm going home the next day. And so home I fly, back to the land of the Déise and the crystal and the lovely blaas in the morning and family and friends and.......Bulmers! That fine sweet cider which is very hard to obtain in the London (Strongbow is rank). It's not good for ya, indeed its the cause of many an ulcer over the years and I gave up drinking cider last year, but I always have a few large bottles when I go home. You just have to. I'm off the plane, up to me mother's for chops for dinner, down to me grandmother's (Where I live when I'm home) for a chat and then straight out into town. And sure I got quite drunk me first night there on the fine alcoholic apple juice from Clonmel. MMMMMM Lovely. Perfect day, in other words, to start a grand 2 and a half weeks of me holidays. Spain? Greece? Italy? Feck all them! Give me Waterford. I wake up me second day there with a nice mild cider hangover and tuck into me ham blaas and I'm very very content. No stress of the London. Time to chill out.
The phone rings.
It's the agent.
"You have a meeting with the casting director of Neil Jordan's new film."
Holy shit! THE Neil Jordan of The Crying Game, Interview with the Vampire and Michael Collins fame?
"He's doing a movie of the novel 'Breakfast on Pluto'. Do you know it?"
Not a hope, but who cares its Neil fecking Jordan! When's the meeting? WHEN'S THE MEETING?!?!?!
"Wednesday."
Crap.
I'm just home and I have to go back. Hang on though! Neil Jordan? Irish movie? Is the meeting in London or.......Dublin????
"London."
Crap.
I book me flights a half hour later, again from Waterford. No sooner than I have them booked and the €130 (ouch) paid on the credit card (I'll be sorry in the end) than the phone goes again, but this time it's not the agent its the casting director from the Glasgow Citizen's Theatre.
"Hello Jamie, we were wondering if you were available to come in to read some more of the French play with us."
Please let it be Wednesday........
"We'd like to see you tomorrow."
Crap.
I guess they were happy with what I had done for the Irish play but wanted to hear me do more of the other. Common practice, just shite timing. If only they didn't want to through cast I might have a lovely Irish play to go to after Wind in the Willows. A bit of meat to follow a bit of Toad. But no. I politely tell her that I'm in Ireland and would be back in london the following Wednesday if that was any help.
"I'll mention that to the director."
I have yet to hear from her.
But not to worry, sure I had a meeting for a new Neil Jordan film. How Feckin' bad? The few days leading up to going back are filled with the usual sights sounds and characters of the town i loved so well and a huge amount of booze is imbued (Not all cider I hasten to add as I am happy to keep the lining of my stomach) parties were sought and found for the most part. I sat in Adrian Dowers house at 6.30am, after a party, off me head, watching a video of a local production of Sweeney Todd and still I did not feel I was pushing the envelope. 3 nights on the trot not getting to bed before 7am all was still fine. Twas only when I found myself falling asleep during Kill Bill 2 at (the now very long-haired) Robert's house that I felt, ok, enough, chill. I got to bed at 8 the following morning of course. Still I did not think it too many. And all this revelment despite the fact that the cost of a night out in waterford would cripple the economy of certain small 3rd world countries such is the price of happiness...sorry....alcohol in Ireland today. Mental. But thank god for the smoking ban. Now I can wear the same clothes the day after a night out. Not that I'd ever do that but its just nice to have the option now. The downside of course is the smell of BO that can now be registered from the area of Muldoons frequented by chaps from certain parts of the county. You also can't get away with leaving a sneaky fart out. Not that I'd ever do that but it was just nice to have the option. Enough of odours, I think you get the idea of the kind of break I was having. But it was all in a good cause. If I say that enough it'll come true.
So like a rich movie star this very poor stage actor hopped back to the London for a meeting, sure y'know? And it goes well. I arrive at the house of this very nice lady casting director and she invites me in;
"Hi Jamie, nice to meet you, thanks for coming. I have to apologise but I haven't seen a single thing you've done,"
Ah, well that's the end of that trend.
"Which you were obviously terrific in."
Now that's more like it! And of course the usual banter starts, your typical first meeting conversation. I mean what a job this is, it seems like I just sit around all day talking about myself..........no cheek from the back please! Anyway she gets on to talking about the film;
"I'm afraid you're not right for the part I had you in mind for, you're too old."
Whaaaaaaaaaattttttttt???????!!!?!?!?!?!?!? ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY YOYOS TO HEAR THAT!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
"The character begins at 14 and ages up."
Ah sure that's alright then. 14 I can't do, but have you seen my 23?
"That said though I would like to get you in to meet Neil, he's asked me to find new Irish actors rather than the same people that are in every Irish movie."
Well that's me to a tee baby! I'm in no Irish movie whatsoever. So how bad. She says that she will take a good look at the breakdown to see if there is anything else I could get seen for, but she is very positive and wants to bring her daughter to see Wind in the Willows. Nice one. And I leave feeling that I haven't wasted a load of Euros by coming back, it seemed like a very constructive afternoon. But still no news from Working title and still no news from Glasgow either. Well we'll see, for all of that would have to wait. I had thought about just going back to the London and staying there until Wind in the Willows started, thereby saving money on flights and lethal nights on the sauce and cider. Yeah I could have done that. But I bought a return ticket for the next day. I had to.
Waterford were playing Cork in the Munster Hurling Final.
And I had a ticket.
