Thursday, 31 March 2011

March

Two things have occured to me:

1) this blog will consist entirely of monthly posts about the month gone past if I don't post moar.

2) this blog is incredibly boring.

Ah well.

So, March.

I'm well into my first year at college, and it's going pretty well, thanks for asking. The dust has settled, things are no longer up in the air in regards to OMGWE'REINCOLLEGEwhatthehellarewedoing??!!!11/??!11 And they shouldn't be, it's been seven-odd months now and I've even finished a whole unit of coursework for each subject.

In Theatre Studies, I'm rehearsing a play called Blackout by Davey Anderson. It's about a Scottish lad who, like many Scottish lads (or lads in general, really), feels alienated and isolated amongst his school mates and family. So he does the logical and sensible thing that surprisingly, most teenagers don't do; he becomes a Nazi. He shaves off his hair. He buys a bunch of knives and posters with swastikas on them. He listens to music. SPOILER ALERT he strangles his mother. This ain't no high skool shit. Foo'.

Imagine. You wake up in a jail cell. The guard comes up to the door and accuses of you of murder. You'd remember what happened. You'd remember why you did it. Imagine you had no friends and you were tired of it. You remember shaving your hair and people looking at you weird. Imagine being beaten up by them and taking it. Imagine remembering that you'd tried to kill your own mother. Remember imagining what it would be like to be Bob Geldof's character in Pink Floyd's The Wall. Remember. Imagine.

Yeah, there are a lot of 'remember's and 'imagine's in the script. Thing is, this actually happened. Davey Anderson wrote it after interviewing a Scottish kid who did this. "Blimey." is what you think, perhaps in broader terms. Pretty deep stuff. So of coarse Mr Anderson decided to do it justice. And he did. By writing a script with no characters or stage directions. If you've ever read a script, you'll probably know that these are quite important, and without them the actors become about as useful as outdoor air conditioning. Until they realise it's not a traditional script but rather more of a performance piece where the actors portray the emotion, feeling and action of the words in the script through choreographed movement vocals working as an ensemble instead of playing individual characters. Or something.

So the costumes are all black (probably skin tight and slightly see-through) clothing, the props are, well the actors, and the stage is empty apart from a set of steps at the back (upstage centre, to be all proper about it). I think it's a nice way of doing it to be fair, if a little artsy-fartsy, it feels unique. I was sceptical at first, but only 'cause it was something completely different, just needed time to warm to it. Also, it'll probably have this music in it.

Also also, the play itself is set in Scotland, about a Scottish boy, written about a Scottish boy irl, and written by a Scottish person. Yeah, it's a Scottish play, and I just hope it doesn't have the levels of bad luck Macbeth's meant to have. I played Macduff once. I was eleven, and ever since I've taken starring roles in plays. It's a bloody hassle. Too many lines to learn. And you're on stage most of the time so no pressure at all. I've even got the fucking lead role in this play. Blackout doesn't even have characters! Except one called James, the boy who turns Nazi. Typical.

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Other events in March; a band released an album; a season of sport that I actually watch started; a trailer for a tv show appeared; I got pissed while my friends got high. Feels like build up to April really. I wonder if every month is going to feel like build up for the next, now that I think about it.