Apologies for downtime
Apologies for the period of downtime today and during the night. There was a problem with our server and a reboot was required. Everything should be back to normal now. 
29 June 2005
20 June 2005
Correction
Just a couple of small corrections on my last post. My dearest, darling Claire who apparently loves correcting me told me that I got a few things wrong! Here's what she said:
"The quick change rooms aren't really for if they are late (if they were late, it's tough — the play would have to wait). They're for if they have two subsequent scenes with two different costumes, when there is little or no time to get up to their dressing rooms, so they would all leave their quick change clothes in there."
"The two stuffed doggies were for the curtain call only; a sculpted dog was used in the pie."
I stand corrected!
19 June 2005
Theatre of Blood – backstage tour and play
We went to see Theatre of Blood on Wednesday evening, as an end to our week-long holiday in London and Disneyland Paris.
We also booked to go on a tour of the National Theatre during the afternoon before the play, so that we could get acquainted with the place and also learn a bit about what goes on behind the scenes. I'm very pleased that we chose to do the tour, as it was very informative and interesting. There were about fifteen of us on the tour, which was hosted by a lovely lady who worked at the theatre's box office and reception area. She was incredibly knowledgeable, friendly and funny, and very willing to answer any questions the group had.
First she took us into the Lyttelton auditorium (where Theatre of Blood is staged; there are three auditoriums at the National Theatre) and told us we'd have to "excuse the mess" as the actors and crew might be preparing for the matinée! She said we'd have to "work around them" and I wondered what that meant! We sat in the empty auditorium and looked at the set, which was rather elaborate and spooky-looking, and watched a few crew members who were checking out the lights and speakers. We sat at the very top of the theatre, right at the back, and had a perfect view of the stage, so that's something to remember if any of you are planning to go and can't get seats at the front. It didn't seem that far back at all.
After that, we were taken backstage, and into the area with the "quick change" dressing rooms and props. If an actor arrives late, he/she can use one of the "quick change" rooms instead of going to his/her main dressing room. We were told not to touch the props as they'd been laid out for the matinée performance, but a few people had a little stroke of Rachael's long, flowing wig, which was apparently made out of "real human hair from Europe and Asia"! There were some very interesting props indeed, including two stuffed poodles, which we would later see atop a platter in the play. There were also champagne bottles, swords, glasses, etc. We saw a verrrrry long sword on a table, which I very nearly walked into, and we later saw this used in the play during the sword fight. We were told that beer on-stage is usually apple juice or cold tea, while wine is cranberry juice, and vodka is water.
The vast quantities of blood used in the play is simply made up of a coloured glycerine mixture and is usually wrapped in a piece of cling film so it's easy for the actors to "explode" it when necessary. Fake blood was also on sale in the theatre gift shop! Apparently, in the past, fake blood capsules were used, but they're not anymore as saliva is required to make the capsules "bleed" once they've been bitten into, and actors' mouths get too dry on-stage for it to work effectively. All very interesting! There was also a lot of blood splattered around the props room and up the doors, which I found highly amusing!
After that, we were taken to see the set of The House of Bernarda Alba, which is running at the same time as Theatre of Blood. We were told some fascinating information about how the set is revolved so that two plays can run concurrently on alternating nights. We were also taken behind the main stage of Theatre of Blood, where we saw the areas of the set that weren't yet visible from the auditorium. We then passed some props around to have a closer look at them (unfortunately not from Theatre of Blood, but from older productions). The props included a severed human head and foot, a tortoise, a burger, some fake glass, and a side salad! Then we looked at the "Paint Frame" room, where artists paint the sets. This was absolutely incredible and I couldn't believe how intricate the designs were. The artists were all milling about, admiring their work. Hehe!
We were then taken on a little tour of the other theatres (and told about Michael Gambon's "birthday banging" craze, which Rachael referred to in an interview!) and in total, the tour lasted about an hour and a half. It was incredibly interesting and though we didn't spot Rachael anywhere (which was kind of a relief, as I get easily starstruck!) I'm pleased we did it.
Then, in the evening, it was back to the theatre for the evening performance. We had a bit of a panic and worried that Rachael would be understudied (just as we have worried — unnecessarily! — the past two times we've been to see one of her plays!) so we were very relieved when Edward Lionheart's accomplice strolled onto the stage, complete with dark sunglasses, suit, moustache, wig, and those unmistakeable cheekbones.
Unfortunately, I had a bloke in front of me with rather large hair, and who kept moving his head in the direction of Rachael (well, who can blame him?) which meant that I had a fairly poor view of her for most of the show. Still, that didn't spoil my enjoyment of the play, which — although not my favourite of the three Rachael plays we've seen (A Woman of No Importance holds a special place in my heart, perhaps because it was our first!) — was still very entertaining and incredibly funny. Rachael got several hearty laughs from the audience and had some cracking lines, which she delivered with that mischievous humour of hers.
One of Rachael's lines I found particularly interesting was when Miranda was speaking about her father, and she said that sometimes she dreamt that he would come home one night and take off his face, and there would be a person she'd never met underneath. Why I found this interesting is because Rachael said something very similar about her mother in a recent interview. "Before she went to bed, I would watch her take off her make-up. Sometimes I dreamt that underneath the slap was someone I'd never met. The layers would come off, and I would be left with a complete stranger." I wondered if Rachael said that in the interview because it was something she'd read in her ToB script, or if (and this would make more sense), she suggested that line herself as it was something she identified with. I don't remember if this was a line from the original film. I'd be very interested to know where it originated from.
I must say that although Rachael looked stunning with her long, flowing wig during the first three quarters of the play, and hilarious in her various disguises, I much preferred her when she took off the male disguise at the end and had messy, cropped (real) hair, and was wearing a little white vest top (with no bra underneath! and she can get away with it!) with black trousers. She looked very sexy indeed, I have to say, and I think the man sitting to my left agreed with me. *Ahem* I absolutely loved the curtain call, when Jim climbed up a little step ladder to take a bow, and Rachael stumbled around in hysterics laughing at him. It was then that we saw Rachael, not Miranda, and it was very cute to watch.
All in all, I really enjoyed the play, although there was less of Rachael in it than I'd imagined there would be. Perhaps I just think that because in a lot of the scenes, she was present on stage but didn't speak much. But in the scenes where she did speak, she absolutely shone. As for Jim, I feel very sorry for the criticism he's received from the press. He's playing the part of a bad, over-dramatic actor, and the press have taken that to mean that he's a bad, over-dramatic actor himself, I think. I thought he was splendid and hilarious. I loved the way he pronounced his words (especially the rolling "R"s) and I thought he was perfect for the role.
Bloody good fun.
8 June 2005
Last update until the 17th
I've just made a very small update, including an update to the fanlisting. I have added a few new (watermarked) Theatre of Blood images to the gallery, and also a new review from West End Theatre World. In addition to that, I added two airings of Tipping the Velvet to the calendar. It's showing on BBC Prime, which is apparently available in 100 countries, so there's a good chance it'll be available where you are! You'll have to check your local TV listings to see, though.
This will be the last update I make until June 17th, as we (Claire and I) are going on holiday tomorrow. We'll be staying in London tomorrow night and seeing the musical Blood Brothers, then heading to Disneyland Paris for four nights. On our return to London, we'll be staying two nights so that we're able to see the lovely Rachael in Theatre of Blood at the National Theatre. We've also arranged to go on a backstage tour at the theatre during the afternoon before the evening performance, which sounds exciting! Maybe we'll spot some of the supplies of fake blood… er, I mean Ribena! In any case, we're both really looking forward to our trip, and I will report back on our backstage tour and the play when we return.
Au revoir!
6 June 2005
Diary — Rachael Stirling
The tension in the wings causes a cast member to fart. I get the giggles, and the tape holding my moustache in place comes unstuck if I so much as smile.
It's 7pm in the great grey Stalin of a building that is the National Theatre. The dressing rooms all face on to a central courtyard and, as has become tradition, the cast of the Henry IV plays gives us a good-luck "banging". We've had birthday bangings, preview bangings, congratulatory bangings. These involve actors leaning out of their windows and cheering while pounding on the panes of glass. In full medieval costume, they are a funny sight: putty warts, greasy grey wigs, fat-suits and facial boils. An outsider might easily mistake them for the inmates of an asylum in revolt. Michael Gambon, whose window is opposite my own, is by far the naughtiest — the Jack Nicholson of our Cuckoo's Nest.
Then the dreaded announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen of the Theatre of Blood company, this is your act one beginners' call." A few minutes' grace, thank God, as press night never goes up on time. Which is just as well, because I have false eyelashes dangling dolefully from one of my lids, and I can't see to stick them back on.
Our play is a revamp of the 1973 film starring Vincent Price as Edward Lionheart and my ma, Diana Rigg, as his daughter. It tells the story of a grand ham actor entrapping London's leading theatre critics and murdering them one by one. And the critics (their modern-day equivalents) are out there now: an army of them poised with leaded spears. Sitting at my dressing table, I've come over all peculiar. A kamikaze vibe fills the air.
With abundant illusions and two live poodles, the play has all manner of potential technical potholes. The poodle pie in which Bette Bourne (as Michael Merridew) is force-fed his precious "doggy woggies" nearly didn't happen at all last night, after the dog called Larry (I kid you not) decided it preferred Bette to its handler. It galloped back on stage, skittering like a darting dustball, as grown men pounced upon it in vain. The dogs are more expensive to employ than any of us. They even get their own dressing room.
I join the cast backstage. Bette sits with a poodle under each arm. Sally Dexter looks ravishing in blonde wig, 40-inch bust and six-inch heels. And heavenly Tim McMullan, playing the bibulous critic from the Daily Mail, has alco dots painted heavily in red across his nose and cheeks. We are a company of camp. Theatre of Blood is about the theatre — it is not a great philosophical masterpiece, nor is it intended as such. It's about plays and players, critics and criticism. It's a fun, frolicking feast: a spectacle, and a spectacular one at that.
Behind the swags I spy the chorus of tramps, loaded with pocketfuls of blood and bottles of meths — sorry, Ribena. There are blood bags aplenty backstage, tightly packed in Tupperware boxes. My own demise in the final scene is signified by my squirting a bag at my stomach, before turning to the audience to reveal that I have been stabbed. Last night the bloody thing didn't burst, so I looked down to examine it and got the full force of the explosion right in my face. I appeared to have been stabbed in the nose.
The tension in the wings causes one member of our company to fart. I get hopeless giggles. The toupee tape holding my false moustache in place (I play a girl in disguise rather than a man in drag) comes unstuck if I so much as smile. Now there's something else dangling from my visage to keep the eyelashes company. "Has anyone got any glue? HELLOOO." Here comes Jim Broadbent in full greasepaint. Our leading man, our star. And he is that, in every sense of the word.
The reviews are out. I always read reviews. I have a weakness for a good wordsmith, but sadly they are few and far between. Sometimes the crits are helpful — theirs can be the first objective opinion of a play. Other times they are pointlessly personal: "Mr Gielgud has the most meaningless legs imaginable." Or just plain vitriolic (see Nicholas de Jongh, would that he were as witty as Tynan). Our play has proved a critical curate's egg. Some rave, others rage. Given the murderous plot, we suspected as much.
