7th september

this time last week I was a few rows from watching Stephen Fry in action – and what action. Every word, of millions of word, chosen so carefully, each progressing the thrilling narrative. And this week I am back stage at the Garrick’s production of Corrie, a very random, actually totally random, celebration of Coronation street – a list of famous scenes barely linked together. An enjoyable piece of fluff but a piece of fluff that takes about 35-40 of us to fluff it each performance. Sadly the audiences are thin, to say the least.
I also did a talk for the sale Waterside, and I rather enjoyed this one, on a roll about the device and storytelling and making every frame and every element count. With that I’ve been writing a short film to submit to the BFI in a month or so. I’ve probably chosen a subject that could support a feature, but hopefully this will work as 15 minutes, and there will be nothing like it. I hope the animation gods, would that be Prometheus, are looking down on us.
And I’m missing one performance of corrie as I am doing a talk for a group of senior ladies, and with supper to boot. The trick of this one is that I have only thirty minutes. Heck, that’s much more difficult.
It’s odd, sitting here, getting ready to do shows today – the whole day revolves around that, and though I am merely stage crew, I’m still going through my mental list, and tidying up anything that could be honed after last night. I know why we do all this – for a brief moment, we matter and have a purpose.
I have tried to keep up with the politics this week, but really, I have no idea what is happening. What a farce.