. . . I digress
The Author … a review (draft 2, no pic … will it make a difference?)
At the edge of the furthest row in an audience facing an audience in two banks of seats.
No way of taking notes.
An uneasy, watchful presence.
No sense of what I’m going to write about yet every sense that I have promised a review.
There is freedom to improvise and make things up if I cannot think of anything sensible to say.
| Imaginary Friend | So, that guy who’s just started talking, he’s one of them … one of the actors?
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| Phil | Assume so. Nobody just talks out loud like that. Must be one of them … an actor I mean. He’s started things off anyhow. That’s what actors do in a play, start things off. Keep things moving. Anyway, hush … it’s started … something’s happening … someone’s talking …
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| IF | I can only see the back of his head. He’s got a nice haircut, hasn’t he! Well, I can only see one half of it, but … must be awkward with half the audience behind him. To act, I mean. Has to keep twisting around.
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| Phil | Technically he’s on the last row but one, so that means only twenty percent of the audience are behind him … or something like that. Haven’t brought my bloody calculator! This is meant to be a play, just go along with it … why do you even need to see his face anyway? He’s only talking … you can hear what he says perfectly well. Listen.
Something about the space, being versatile and that … and us all being beautiful … can’t say I’m feeling too gorgeous with those spotlights bouncing off my baldy head. Can we see if we can shuffle our chairs to a shadier bit? Feeling a bit exposed.
No? Seems we’re stuck.
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| IF | Now he’s talking to the audience. At least, I think they are the audience. How many actors, do you know?
One guy, that guy at the front, didn’t quite catch his name, says he’s doing “English and drama” … same as the girl behind, “English and drama …”
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| IF | ‘appen they should have got one of them clever kids from English and Drama to do the review? Someone who knows what they are talking about. Someone who went to the symposium today.
Maybe?
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| Phil | Hmm, perhaps. S’pose I could have been better prepared.
But no though … isn’t it more interesting when you’re not quite sure what you’re letting yourself in for? I didn’t want to have it all explained away, deconstructed and annotated before I’d even seen the thing. I want a bit magic and mystery left. Like the guy, the actor Chris just said, I’m expectant, hopeful, wanting something to happen … and anyway, what kind of sad bugger spends Saturday in a University symposium!
What’s he just said? I missed that. What are we being invited to agree about?
Hope? Hoping for someone to talk to us?
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| IF | Watch out, he’s trying to make eye contact.
I think he wants to talk to you.
Pretend you’ve got a very important button to unfasten or some chewing gum on the sole of your shoe that demands urgent investigation. Just don’t let him embarrass you by making you “interact.” You know you don’t do interaction all that well.
Remember what happened last time you were made to interact.
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| Phil | Crikey, that was close!
Almost caught out. Attention slipped. Trying to work out who the other actors could be.
Public confessional isn’t really my idea of entertainment. Best leaving the interaction to the English and Drama types. That’s what they go to college for. Interaction! It’s a skill, that is.
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| IF | Look, someone’s just walked out …
Something happened? What did I miss?
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| Phil | Was it one of the actors? Heard that people have walked out of the play before … think they are okay with that. The actors I mean.
They don’t take it too seriously. Don’t take the criticism to heart.
Some people have some funny ideas. This is just pretend. How can just pretend offend anyone?
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| IF | They are asking us to “say something.” What’s to say so far?
Do you think anyone will?
I know you won’t, that’s a given. You’ll just keep it all in your head till you get home in front of a keyboard … then you’ll let ‘em know. Will anyone else speak up I wonder, right here, right now …
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| Phil | Well, the world is full of cocky folk who are desperate to steal a bit of the limelight, so who knows.
Would be fun.
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| Phil | I’m on my own here. Sat on the very back row in the remotest corner, on my own. With just an imaginary friend. Who may or may not exist.
Imaginary friends do not need a ticket. Cheap date!
This is a bit odd. Lights have dimmed, music started. Everyone is talking. Everyone is talking to the person they came with. They know the cue to interact. This is like an interval. I’m fiddling with my phone.
Tweeting is slightly less embarrassing than talking to the invisible friend. Isn’t it?
Getting some less than chuffed looks. The girl in front, perhaps an usher, asks me if I’m enjoying it. Feels a little inquisitorial. I have a strong urge to explain my behaviour and I tell her I came here with Robert who hadn’t booked a ticket … he’s up there, in the gallery somewhere, tweeting me … just because he isn’t sat next to me doesn’t mean we are not here together. It just looks that way.
I apologise for myself.
It’s not like I’m tweeting during the performance.
Is it?
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| IF | Put the phone away. It’s Tim Crouch, the writer. He’s talking … this is important.
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| Phil | Okay … hush, let me concentrate.
I need to concentrate on what he’s saying. What’s he saying? I’ll never remember.
I’m meant to be writing a review …
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| IF | … and they are meant to be performing a play!
No stage, no movement, no costumes … even you’ve come better dressed!
It’s a funny old world.
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