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33. PLANES, TRAINS AND AUTOMOBILES
(Well trains and automobiles at least.)
You know I had so many people tell me I was crazy when I was thinking I could probably do Much Ado and Wind in the Willows together. They breathed a sigh of relief when it looked like it wasn’t possible and jumped back on the calling me crazy bandwagon when it was actually going to happen. Turns out they were dead right. I was feckin crazy. But I didn’t care. I could do it. Even if it killed me.
I was REALLY looking forward to starting Willows. I loved doing the show last year (knackering and all as it was) and seeing as all but one of the cast were coming back to do it , well it was like a school reunion. And its a mega part. I’ve heard it referred to as the King Lear of role’s in children’s shows. Now I don’t know if I’d go that far but it wouldn’t be far off. Also because I wasn’t playing anything substantial in Much Ado (now I’m just stating fact there and not complaining.) it was nice to be able to crack into something really really meaty. So I couldn’t wait. Well actually I didn’t have to wait, the rehearsals started the Monday after the Wednesday that Much Ado opened, and it was straight back into all guns blazing. I had come back into the London on the Saturday night after doing a matinee of Much Ado and went down to the National to have a drink with Dots and his lovely wife Natalie, and sitting on the tube for the first time since the bombings was a weird experience. The way people were suddenly looking at each other. I didn’t want to even think about it to be honest. Twas good to see the man who killed Glenroe and of course I was able to boast about me swanky new job that I’d just gotten:
‘The National Dots? I’m off to New York, love.’
‘Go way boy, sure I’ve played there meself.’
Of course he had. After leaving him I went looking for me flatmate of the O’ Sullivan clan. Gary turned out to be in an all-night night-club called ‘The End’. Well sure I’ll head in for the one before I go home. The ‘one’ lasted until I was standing on Oxford Street at 6 in the morning waiting for a bus and watching the sun come up. Oh my god! And I suddenly got very worried. I mean the last time I did Willows I was losing me voice all over the shop, this time I had the added strain of doing another show at the same time and what do I do the day before I start rehearsing, go on an all night bender!!!! I really thought I was going to be fucked on the Monday.
I thought wrong thank Jesus.
Monday morning I decide to walk to rehearsals, now this had nothing to do with me being cagey about the tubes, I just thought it would be good exercise for me. Honestly. It takes about 50 minutes and its a grand stroll which takes you past Abbey Road and the famous zebra (or Beatle) crossing. I get there and meet all the old familiars and our new Badger and we craic into the read through. And all is well. AHA!! He’s back and he’s green. Then I have a sing through all me stuff with the MD and the pipes are in pretty good form let me tell ya. And the gas thing is they stay that way for the rest of rehearsals. I’m not sure what it was but I had a load more stamina than last year and the only thing I can attribute it too was the fact that I hadn’t come to it cold but was rehearsing and performing right up to and during rehearsals. Good first day to start with and then a lethal session afterwards wherein we start in the Volunteer pub (source of my poverty last year) and end up shitfaced at the bar at the Open Air Theatre drinking staff-discounted wine and free burgers!! We were back in a big way. The next day the travelling started. Now here was the thing. Could I do Willows? Of course I could, sure I had the reviews from last year still in me wardrobe. Could I do Much ado? In me sleep boy. No seriously I could do it in me sleep. Could I do them both at the same time? Feck it sure we’ll soon see. My daily schedule looked a bit like this;
8am: Wake up. Shower, shave and a slice of toast.
9am: Hit the road to Regent’s Park, and I literally mean hit the road as I was still walking to work each morning.
10am: Arrive at the Park for rehearsals and lash into a bit of mad toading.
3.30pm: Knackered after most of a day of mad toading I leave rehearsals to catch the 4pm train to Bath. On which I have a quick sandwich. Hopefully sleep, probably not. And if I do its the kind of sleep that you wake up from with dribble down your face.
5pm: Arrive in Bath. Hopefully sleep, probably not.
6.45pm: Dance warmup (I was still the all singing all dancing dance captain remember).
7.30pm: Hit the boards for a bit of the bard.
10.25pm: Curtain Call and peg it over to the pub for a quick pint.
10.47pm: The last train to London. Hopefully sleep, probably not.
12.45am: Arrive back in the London, at which time the tubes have stopped so I have to get two buses home which inevitably means me standing out in the cold on the Edgware Road and of course the battery in my iPod has decided to be dead as a dodo.
1.30am: Arrive home with a chip in pitta in hand.
2am: Hopefully sleep, probably not.
8am: Wake up. Shower, shave and a slice of toast............... and the rest you know.
Unreal. Now this was the schedule for the travelling days which I have to say wasn’t every day but was at least 4 days in the week, this was because there was only 4 shows of much ado a week. Of course when I had a night off from the play in Bath I would be rehearsing in Regent’s Park until at least 7pm if not 8.30. No rest for the wicked? I must have done some really bad shit then. The weekends became time to sleep rather than drink so the auld social life took a bit of a knock, but I did slip in some quality session time here and there. Sure you’d have to wouldn't you. Another worry at the back of me head was: what if there was a problem with the train one day. That’s the thing about trains in England, unbelievably expensive (it cost over 600 sterling for a travelcard from the London to Bath for the month) and unbelievably unreliable. Anything could happen, delays, cancellations, trains breaking down en route. I was taking a bit of a risk, and I would have been in awful trouble if I missed a show in Bath. Thankfully the first week went fine and everything was looking good for the second week.
Until the Thursday that is.
We had broken for lunch during rehearsals and I was heading over to the canteen for a bit of food and I tried to give the agent a ring. It wouldn’t connect . It said the network was busy . I tried another couple of numbers and they all said the same thing. Network busy. Now why the hell was the network overloaded? The last time that happened was the day of the tube bombs. I started to get a bit worried. I got to the canteen to see the two Andys that were in the show walking out of there ashen faced.
‘Well boys what’s the craic where are ye off to?’
‘There’s been another terrorist attack on the tubes. A friend of mine just called me. Seemingly they used nail bombs and one of them was at Warren Street.’
I went white.
And then show must go on mode kicked in. If this had happened then they would have shut down the tube network straight away. Warren street isn’t far from Regent’s Park so who knows what roads they would close off as well. If it got worse then they’d stop all transport in and out of central London. This was worst case scenario stuff i know , but I had a show in Bath that night and there was no way I was going to let the terrorists win and stop me singing Hey Nonny feckin Nonny. I legged it over to the rehearsal rooms and told the director I had to get to Paddington as soon as possible just in case there was any problem getting out of London. As always she was great and understood completely so I pegged it west on the half hour walk to Paddington. It was mad because along the way you could see people coming out of office buildings in the fear of being stuck in London with no way home, or else they just wanted to get out of this suddenly dangerous place. There was a bit of that in my head as well. The only thing being that I had to return that night. I got to Paddington and it was absolutely mobbed, everyone had the same thought as me then, get the fuck out of London before the whole system shuts down. The packed train pulled out of Paddington and you could see the relief on people’s faces as they got outside the M25. Now I’m not a pessimist by nature but I really thought there was some bad shit going down here, the reports were of a new and even more vicious attack.
Sure don’t believe everything you hear.
It turned out to be a botched attempt by fools, cowards and bastards. I was angry alright. But mostly angry because it made me feel the way I did and that I had to run. Not cool. Very not cool. Thank God the show went well that night. No, thank God no one got hurt.
The rest of the running up and down wasn’t nearly as eventful and everything seemed to be going swimmingly altough really tiring. When I wasn’t able to do the rehearsals Andy Hutch (who was understudying me) was able to lash into getting a decent go at it, more than an understudy would normally get at the park. I was glad because its always worrying when you have to hand a part over to someone for a few shows. You want it to go really well in your absence sure. I knew it was in good hands though. The mad part (part one) came when we got to the tech rehearsals for willows. Of course I could only be there for some of them so I ended up only having half a tech with Andy doing the other. Meaning there was bits I hadn’t rehearsed at all with the new props and new bits of set and the new car and the new pain in me head and so on and so forth. Ah sure that’ll be no bother it’ll sort itself out.
Or will it?
The mad part (part two) was when we got to the first week of Willows. Or do I mean the last week of Much Ado?
Of course I mean both. It was the same feckin week sure.
Now I was feeling that all the people who were calling me crazy were bang on. I just wish they didn’t look so feckin smug. Normally the phrase ‘to open and close a show in the same week’ is not a good one. It should mean that a show has opened and closes days later because it is so bad. Of course that wasn’t my case. I was living that phrase in a far more literal fashion. This is where it could all go so very very wrong. Here’s how the week went;
Monday: Ok not too bad. In early in the morning to continue the tech for willows and there’s a lot of good work done, But of course the time comes and Cinderella has to get the train to Bath. I do the show in Bath although me head is full of lines from the other show. The cast of Much Ado are laughing at me at this stage at the thought that I’m opening a show in the London the next day. I’m laughing at meself at this stage.
Tuesday: 1st preview! In early again, this time to do a dress rehearsal which doesn’t go at all well for me. Sure I never got to finish the feckin tech the day before!!! Jesus! So I was on a real wing and a prayer for the actual show. But it went fine! Thank godddd!!!! That’s the thing when you have an audience in front of you, whether its sheer determination or just pure fear I don’t know but you always seem to get through it and its never as bad a you thought it was going to be. Famous last words I know. But get through it I did and the old buzz was back. AHA!! Now that was why I enjoyed doing the show so much last year. Its just a big load of craic from start to finish. Seeing as I didn’t have a show that night in Bath and I wasn’t doing Willows the next day I got in the horrors as only I can to celebrate the sleep in. I have zero recollection of getting home. Fuck all new there so.
Wednesday: Roll out of bed in an awful state and thank me lucky stars I don’t have a show at 2.30. And while I don’t, me poor understudy does. I had heard him practising the songs after the show the day before and he was in top voice. Big time. We were all standing on the picnic lawn at the theatre having some champagne when he was giving it sox and I turned to me fellow actors with a wry smile;
‘Enjoy that while it lasts lads, because you’ll never hear those notes out of me!’ quoth the bass upon hearing the tenor sing his role correctly.
I knew it was in good hands so and on me way to the train station I dropped into the theatre to leave him a bottle of wine and a copy of the book to wish him luck. But as I walked out of there it was the strangest feeling. Not doing the show .... yes the show was going on, but without me. I felt strangely uneasy and probably a bit jealous. Ah cop on Jamie for feck sake it happens all the time. So I head to Bath and check into the very swish B&B I had treated meself to for the night. Ah sure tis a hectic week I deserve a bit of comfort. We do the show and of course there’s a nice bit of a session afterwards, which turns into a serious bit of a session and before long and ends up being a back to the digs session. 5 of us end up back in the digs of one of the girls as her landlord and landlady were away for the week and we lash into a fair bit of their booze. How bad. The craic was good an the clock ticked on and I ended up falling up the hill to my B&B at 6 in the morning which would make it;
Thursday: I got to bed at 6.30 and breakfast there finished at 8.30!! AH shit, well that was a waste of a B&B but there was no way I was gonna miss the breakfast, I paid enough for it for feck sake. That day was spent sorting out me hangover and sleeping in the theatre to be able to do the show that night. The buzz was now going around that Sir Peter wanted to meet us after the last show on Saturday and the rumour was a West End transfer. Which of course would be lovely but meant feck all for me as I was booked up till December now with Winter’s Tale (Jammy!). Show went grand and I sat on the midnight train to the London with the press show of Willows looming over me cause that was happening -
Friday:
Now I was properly shitting meself.
Why? I hear you ask? Well this was the day of reckoning sure, wasn’t it? Now I know I’d done the show before and there wasn’t that much changed but the pressure was really on me this time. I mean they really pulled out all the stops so I was able to do the show again this year and that meant I had to produce the goods. The only thing now was I had to produce said goods after having two days off from the show and the rest of the cast were just getting used to a new Toad! Jesus this could all go horribly wrong!
It didn’t.
Well from my point of view anyway. I lashed into it like there was no show tomorrow (which for me there wasn’t, I was heading back to finish Much Ado). It turned out to be a lovely sunny day which always helps the crowd at the Open Air Theatre. Obviously. The big boys were in as well; The Independent, Time Out, The Evening Standard and The Financial Times (don’t know how many kids read that to be honest), but I didn’t let the pressure get to me and I poop pooped and AHA’d me way through the 1st act no hassle. Which was a surprise seeing as last year I barely got to the end of the 1st act without an asthma attack, the auld stamina was better this year alright. Then came the 2nd act and all went well until the scene in the secret tunnel. After a bit of banter with the audience about whether to send me home or not Badger would normally grab me and throw me back into line. This time he grabbed me and a bit of my costume came off in his hand and he uttered the immortal words;
‘Oh Shit!’
Oh shit indeed Badger because you said it while your feckin mic was on, so the whole audience heard it.
‘Oooooooooooohhhhhhhh’ went the audience.
‘Ahhhhhhh ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha’ Went Toad, Ratty and Moley as we went into the convulsions.
This was funny but not necessarily good, because he did it in front of about 600 kids and representatives of the national media. I may not have a show to come back to on Monday!! After a bit of messing we got back to doing the show and the animals still beat the Wild Wooders in the end so all was well with the Willows. I was pleased with it and hopefully the reviews would be good but I felt relieved that that day had gone well. The celebrations started. Straight off to the volunteer for flatliners and then on to the Duke of Sussex for Karaoke fun as Hardwick was back doing Saturday nights which all ended up with me falling asleep at the baby grand in the corner only to be dragged home by the buachaill in question. The Willows gang had headed off early as they had an 11 o’clock show the next morning. I didn’t thank Jesus but I did have a 2.30 show in Bath. Bollocks.
Saturday: Woke up with a bastard behind the eyes to have to head up to Bath with Hardwick (who was coming to see the show). It went grand as last shows do although it was weird because it ended on a matinee. We were all on best behaviour as well as Sir Peter Hall was in the building and he had a chat with us all afterwards. It wasn’t going to the West End but it was going to be revived in September 2006 at his new theatre, The Rose in Kingston, and he hoped we’d all be available. Hmmmm .... we’ll see. And that was the end of that, we went to the pub for a swift pint and a lovely pie and the cast swiftly went their separate ways. Hardwick then said to me he was going back to Bedford rather than London so do I mind being dropped off somewhere near the M25 and sure I said not to worry that I still had the travelcard to London so I’d get the train back as it’d be quicker. He dropped me off at the station and I thought that would be the last I’d see of him till the following week. I reckoned without British Rail. I walked onto the platform only to be informed that all trains to London were cancelled due to a fire on the line and that they would be laying on a bus to Paddington. Fuuuck that. I’m bolloxed after the maddest week of me life and now I have to sit on a bus for four hours. I think not good sir!!! It was typical that after a month of problem free travelling there’s a problem on the last day. So I was straight on the phone to the Hardwick to see if his offer of a lift to the M25 was still good. Twas. Happy days. I headed down through the foyer to wait for him outside and on me way I bumped into someone I really didn’t expect to see again. My next phone conversation with Dickie will tell all;
‘Well boy listen we have a passenger coming with us if that’s ok, and you might want to clean up the car.’ quoth I.
‘Why? Who’s coming back with us?’ quoth the driver.
‘Sir Peter Hall.’
‘Fuck off you’re full of shit.’
‘No seriously Dickie, he’s stuck here too and I’ve said he can get a lift with us.’
‘Look, stop taking the piss or else I’m leaving you here. I’ll be there in a second.’
You could hear his eyebrows hit the roof of the car when I walked out of the station followed by one of the most famous directors in the world. NOW he was sorry he didn’t clean the car. It turned out Peter had planned to head back on the same train as I did, so found himself stranded. I literally just bumped into him at the ticket office;
‘It looks like we’re stuck here Jamie.’ quoth the maestro.
‘Well actually Peter I have a mate coming back to pick me up and drop me close to London, would you like a lift?’ meekly quoth I.
‘If that would be ok?’
And there transpired the most surreal car journey I’ve ever experienced. I did not know how this was going to go. 3 hours in a car with Richard Hardwick and Sir Peter Hall. I may never work again. Of course I needn’t have worried. Peter was full of chat and very funny and meself and Dickie were on good form as well. Of course Dickie got in a load of comments about him being a writer now and all about Karaoke Kings and I got to leave him know that I was going to be working with his son Ed again and Richard got him as only he can;
‘Peter, do you mind if I ask you a strange question?’ Quoth the chauffeur to the stars. I was now curled up in a ball in the back dreading where this might be going.
‘Ok........’ Cagily quoth the founder of the RSC.
‘Well, you know when you get knighted .......... is there food?’
Aw thank god. It was a joke. And it was funny! My career is still intact. I think that lightened the atmosphere as well and he went on to tell us about how he knew Tennessee Williams and when he met Marilyn Monroe and also told us stories about auditions and asked us questions about ourselves as well. In those three hours in the car I got to know the man better than in six weeks of rehearsals. Goes to show. I wouldn’t mind having a few scoops with the man. The idea of dropping me off at the M25 went to shit the minute we had a celebrity in the car and Richard drove all the way into London and dropped Peter close to where he lived (but didn’t drop me as close to where I’m going, the fecker.). Peter got out of the car, gave Dickie a few pound and shook my hand wishing me all the best. And with that handshake ended the maddest week .... actually no ..... the maddest MONTH of my life.
I had survived it.
They thought I couldn’t do it but I did!! I opened and closed a show in the same week and as well as that me credit cards were clear (ah sweet double bubble eases the pain). All I had for the next two weeks was one show of Willows a day.
Ahhhhh sure that was no bother to me at this stage.
I’d be grand as long as it didn’t rain.
Some hope boy.
