Sunday 17 July 2011

Acting Odd


After the Shylock triumph, Texan Jack - the young Leonardo diCaprio with the wild eyes and intense posture - and I get talking. He says something about my performance and I say something about Shylock and he looks at me in surprise. "You mean that was Shylock?" I nod. His face lights up. "Shylock's the man! I really want to do Shylock!" "So do you think Shylock's a good guy or a bad guy?" I ask him. He looks at me, uncertain. "I don't know," he says. "But you know the story, don't you?" I ask. He shakes his head. I wonder whether I should point out that it's a little strange to admire a character you don't know from a play you haven't read or seen after hearing a speech that you didn't know was by the character that you profess to admire, but instead I say that the play is quite simple - it's about a man who wants revenge on someone who has humiliated him. He looks interested, so I go on to add the bit about Jews and Christians, moneylending and wealth. He's still paying attention. I bring in Portia, referring to a competent monologue given by Bethany earlier in the day. At which point Texan Jack throws up his hands in confusion - "you lost me" and walks away.... (that's Henry Irving as Shylock, by the way - one of the few pictures on the web which doesn't pander to stereotypes)

The afternoon class is taken up by rehearsals for The Odd Couple. Since there are more of us than in the cast, some of us are sharing roles, and we're doing both the male and the female versions of the play. Ideally, Tracy, the director - who, with her glasses half-way down her nose, book in hand and no-nonsense attitude, fits the role of director to a T - should give us all equal time, but at least half the afternoon, it seems, is given up to blocking the early scenes of the male version, particularly the part where Felix arrives and we all rush around worrying whether he's overdosed and trying to stop him from killing himself. I've learnt my lines, but like everyone else, I haven't learnt my cues, so we're all on book. What with the script in my hand, a wandering accent, uncertainty as to what to do with myself in the long periods where Roy has no lines, and Tracy giving me notes (mostly "speed up") on the lines I do have, the fund of confidence that I built up with Shylock has quickly depleted. But I'm not complaining, because it's fun to do and it's good to see the others develop and of course I'd rather be on stage fluffing lines than watching bored from the sidelines.

At the end of the day there's another bonding session in the pub where we explore each other's backgrounds a little further. With each revelation comes a vulnerability; today I learn that alpha male Sean, 31, and gentle Balbeer, 35, are both reluctantly single, and both willing to seek partners from outside their cultural background (respectively Jewish and Sikh). There were more insights from others, but they got lost in the haze of gossip and alcohol, noise and elation. Another two weeks to go, who knows what more I will learn and what embarrassing facts I will let slip . . .

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