Did I really write that?

Put 14 chairs in a circle, pass out a script, tell people who’s who and get them to read it to each other.

There’s your makings of a ‘read-through’.

To the uninitiated, this can be painful process. And we had a few ‘actors’ at the read through who have never trod the boards before. They found the process decidedly uncomfortable, as they wanted to wander around the stage, interact and put some physicality behind their lines.

And I can understand why. But this isn’t the function of a read through. It’s there to ensure the cast has a common understanding of the script and its plot from the director’s standpoint. It’s more of a challenge with something like Denim, as for all but 5 people attending, this was the first time they witness the story from start to finish.

In the auditions, the director purposefully only employed scenes from Act 1: to keep the twist and the counterplot of the second act hidden from the cast and potential audience.

To walk the stage and perform a read through would take at least twice as long – hardly and effective use of time.

So there we were, sat holding a script and talking when it was out turn. It was delightful to see that people had already developed some form of character for the person they were playing. Everyone was modulating their voice to attempt to convey some from of emotion… But they joy for me was there were a number of belly laughs! There were also some physical flinches… To me, that’s job done! The words were enough…

If my words spoken aloud with no direction or coaching can get people laughing and reacting, it means that the dialogue is right. No one was saying “that would never happen” or, “isn’t that stretching the imagination a bit”. They were behind the play.

And you could see the casting choices were correct: Customers 1 and 2 play too nicely against each other; one wide and cheeky; the other thoughtful and concerned. Pete was a joy, setting himself up well as the total wideboy, but developed into his true self as the play developed. Hazel had a true command and has a voice that enables her to put true emotion behind what she is developing. And Sybil… Dear Lord… She’s really going to steal the show as she displays no shame.

And there I sat, acting the disgusting drunk blurting out my lines at the appropriate point. I was overjoyed to see nearly all my lines attract a laugh (as I intended the character). But I felt myself wince more than once, knowing the guttural level of humour which was about to be delivered. More than once I found myself thinking “I am a very naughty man”. I remember when my wife and I saw the Pewsey Vale production and she kept on elbowing me, saying much the same.

Where did I get these lines from? I don’t talk like that in real life… I don’t use humour that base on a day to day basis… So where does this stuff come from.

Throughout the read through, I started to worry the remainder of the cast would assume these lines showed my true character. I needn’t have worried as it turned out, as they asked me how I thought these things up.

And I was reminded of something I wrote many years ago. “It’s like controlled schizophrenia.”

When I write, I try and place a shape to the characters. Before the scenario, I write detailed character biographies to guide me to who this person its. As the scenario develops, the characters take over in my mind and they ‘tell’ me what they are going to do and what they are going to say. Sometime I have to hold them back, but many is the case where their ‘idea’ is better than what I had in the synopsis.

So, although I’m the one that put the words on the page, in many ways it’s not me writing – it’s this person I’ve created telling what words to put down.

Anyway, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it!