Stars

Photo: The Telegraph

Last night, following a show at the Sunderland Empire, Ed Grace and I watched the skies, determined to see some evidence of the Perseid meteor shower; whilst furtively polluting our view with the bright lights of our smartphones, nonchalantly trying to find out what the Perseid meteor shower actually is.

It was a pretty rewarding hour. We saw seven or so shooting stars slice through the North Eastern night sky: sometimes as clean as a laser beam; occasionally tired and haphazard, like a cigarette tip or a dying firework.

We had just finished our 241st show, which means that we have precisely 100 left. As I succumb to the relentless, accumulative exhaustion and occasionally hysterical mania of touring, I take quite a bit of solace from the words of Christopher Boone:

"When you look at the sky at night you know you are looking at stars, which are hundreds and thousands of light years away from you. And some of the stars don't exist any more because their light has taken so long to get to us that they are already dead - or they have exploded and collapsed into red dwarfs. And that makes you seem very small; and if you have difficult things in your life, it is nice to think they are what is called negligible - which means they are so small you don't have to take them into account when you are calculating something."

Ensemble

I was listening to a couple of radio interviews by two of our cast members today - John McAndrew and Joshua Jenkins - to publicise our current week at the Bristol Hippodrome; and they both mentioned a word that gets bandied around a lot with regard to this show: 'ensemble'.

Most directors like to use this word, because it implies that we're all in it together. But so often, it's just a lazy way to refer to a large cast. A proper ensemble production is something that many directors aim for, and few succeed at. The reason for this is simple: a true ensemble spirit means, to a degree, a surrender of ego; and, when you're talking about actors, that's very rare. For a true ensemble to work, actors need to be happy with the fact that they can be forgettable, even faceless. The production is the only star.

As I've implied, I've watched directors try and create this atmosphere a few times, and it often doesn't work. I was in one show where I was described as a member of the ensemble and yet wasn't invited to attend the first month of rehearsals - a contradiction in terms if ever there was one. To build a theatre company where actors can truly work together as equals is a rare thing; and it demands a director and a cast that are united in pursuing this vision. A couple of strong egos, or a director who simply doesn't know how to build a company, and the whole thing becomes a charade.

I'm very happy to say that I think this is genuinely an ensemble piece. Many of us play numerous parts throughout and there's a real team spirit. Of the fifteen actors, there's quite a wide spectrum of involvement in the play, but we're a team and we view it as such. We pop up here and there, sometimes as named characters, sometimes as bits of furniture; but it all fits together cohesively and democratically. When, in rehearsals, we were addressed as "ensemble", I didn't mind. Because, for once, we actually were.

Liverpool

 The Beatles: Liverpool Empire, c.1964

This week, we perform in the largest venue of the entire tour: the enormous Liverpool Empire. Like last week's theatre, it's more than served its time as a music venue. I was talking to someone who's been here to see Jerry Lee Lewis, Gene Vincent, Roy Orbison, Marianne Faithfull and Clarence 'Frogman' Henry. Bob Dylan played here in 1996. The pub opposite Stage Door boasts of visits by Frank Sinatra, The Rolling Stones and Amy Winehouse. But there's one act that towers above all these.

The Beatles played here on about nine occasions: as The Quarrymen - where, in 1959, they came second in the final of TV Star Search; as the support act to both Roy Orbison and Little Richard; and, in December 1965: where, post-Shea Stadium and now far too big for Liverpool, they played the last concert they would ever play in this city. This is a clip from one of their appearances at the Empire, in December 1963:

The shadow of The Beatles looms large for my generation. Never alive while they were still together, for me they have been passed down as figureheads; their legendary status unquestioned and yet entirely justified. I know that I'm not the only member of the company to be excited by our proximity to their footsteps on this stage; even though it was half a century ago.

Tonight we played to our largest audience; and a figure we're not likely to beat before November: a crowd of 2,187 people.

Here's an interview I did with Joshua Jenkins (Christopher Boone), discussing what he's looking forward to about our week in Liverpool.

Tea

 Photo: Nada Zakula

One of the nicest things about bringing Curious Incident to Oxford is that it's the home town of the book's author, Mark Haddon. Mark has been constantly and consistently supportive of our production for many months now; and it's typical of his generosity that, as well as being there for us on our opening night in Oxford, he extended an invitation to the entire company to join him and his family for tea at his house yesterday.

In the twelve years since he wrote The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, I imagine he's been asked and re-asked every single question about the book that anyone could possibly think of. In a focused and unpretentious manner that reminds me of David Mamet's writings about acting, he's always ready to bring the subject of his protagonist Christopher Boone right down to the bare essentials of character and plot. On Tuesday night, after our first show in Oxford, I asked him a fairly convoluted question about an aspect of the narrative, Christopher's part in it and why he decided upon a particular element of the story. He looked me square in the eye and soberly said - I suspect not for the first time - "You do know that he's not real, don't you?"

Oxford

Oxford town, Oxford town. Something of a step up after the comparative intimacy of Truro, where we were playing to audiences of roughly a thousand less people than we were last night. Suddenly, we're back in a big theatre, and it changes the play back to what I'd forgotten was the norm.

As well as hosting plays like ours, the New Theatre, Oxford (previously the Apollo, from 1977 to 2003) is a music venue: Elvis Costello played here last month. It feels like a theatre suited to loud, dirty rock 'n' roll, which I like. But, most significantly for me, I came to my first ever gig here, 30 years ago. My brothers and I, with my late parents, came to see The Everly Brothers here in December 1985. A poignant memory; but even more moving for me is to look out at the stalls and imagine, seated there, people I love and can't be with any more. I'll be giving them a little mental wave every night.

Cornwall

Painting by Fergus Hare

We're at the Hall for Cornwall in Truro this week. I think, of all the places we visit on this tour, this is the one that I've been looking forward to the most. Cornwall's my favourite part of the country, it has a deep significance to the story (I wrote about our trip to Polperro here) and Cornish audiences, in my experience, are right up there with the Irish. We've had a wonderful reception so far, and the reviews have been lovely.

We get very little free time; so there'll be no surfing, long walks or paddling at remote, unspoiled beaches. The week will largely be spent sweating through our usual physical routine and then moving on, with scarcely a moment to look up and enjoy that we're here. But, in many ways, just being in Cornwall is enough.

Next week we'll be in Oxford: home of Curious Incident's author, Mark Haddon. Anyone with a passing interest in his book and 45 minutes to spare should listen to this.

Update: we received this from an audience member who'd come and seen the show in Truro:

"My husband and I were lucky enough to see you all perform in Truro on the 11th of this month. The show was sold out and we were only in town for the weekend on a whim, but we waited at the box office with nothing to lose and fortune smiled on us.
It was worth every second of that wait and more.
Every detail was so incredibly well executed and I can’t tell you what an emotional roller-coaster you all took me on.
My heart burst with emotion on several occasions. I spent the whole show fluctuated between booming laughter and uncontrollable tears that continued throughout the show and long after. I could not look away, even blinking through tears, it was all so deeply captivating. It hit me so strongly. It was immensely powerful and hit (on occasion) a little too close to home.
It was moving and cathartic and beautiful. If nothing else, it was beautiful. The range of human emotion portrayed so delicately and truthfully draws the viewer in so deeply it was like looking into "Christopher's" psyche and watching his thoughts and memories unravel.
You should all be so proud of what you've all achieved. It was a joy to watch. I congratulate each and every member of the team for creating such an incredible and unforgettable experience."

Southampton

This afternoon saw our long-awaited relaxed performance at the Mayflower Theatre, Southampton. To an audience of over 700, we performed the play in a specially adapted - although hardly muted - version. Much of the audience had been prepared with a special introduction pack, designed to minimise confusion and prepare those who might need it for the specifics of going to the theatre itself:

 

The most significant difference is that we were prepared for the audience to in no way censor their vocal reactions as the play went on. This is something that some people felt the need to warn us about; but, in a funny way, I think many of us welcome that kind of reaction. Personally, I've no interest in a thousand people just sitting in a theatre reverentially holding in their feelings: theatre is - or should be - interactive. It's not television. For me, the most disappointing sound that I hear on this job is the commanding "Shhh!" that kicks off many matinees, or shows where large parties of schoolchildren - who laugh a lot at things like swearing - are having to be policed by teachers. Because, personally, I'd rather hear their reactions than have them all go silent for an hour - which is usually what happens once they've been instructed to be quiet.

There was no fear of that today. Everybody said exactly what they wanted and whenever they wanted to, which led to some wonderfully spontaneous outbursts. There was one very popular member of the cast who managed to initiate three rounds of applause without even speaking.

But, in all seriousness, it was another reminder of why we do this play. Relaxed performances are part of the repertoire of many shows, not just ours; but obviously the subject matter of our play makes it particularly pertinent. It was especially rewarding to be able to hear from the audience themselves after the show, in a brief Q&A session. Huge thanks to the Mayflower Theatre for the opportunity to give this performance. I hope that eventually, relaxed performances become standard: like signed, captioned and audio-described performances.

Photo courtesy of@curiousonstage

Another treat for us today: the unveiling of the new trailer which we filmed on May 19th, in Canterbury. I'm very proud that this will be advertising the production, worldwide, for a while.