Staged reading

My theatre group will be staging a showcase of short, original pieces in the Pearse Centre at the end of February. This biannual – as opposed to biennial – event (I had to  research the difference on google) is called ‘Uncut’. Being a considerate sort I’ll reveal that we do these showcases two times a year, and not once every two years.

I have written a piece for this showcase – a play lasting quarter of an hour. I decided to give my ego a break and not write myself into this one. I am however appearing in another play written by another member of the group.

To get some idea of length and mood of the plays, as well as audience reaction, yesterday evening we did a staged reading in front of a select audience,  at ‘Clockwork Door’ – a city centre time-house where you pay for the use of the space per minute. I have written about this venue before.

The piece I wrote is called ‘Mother’s Little Treasure’. It’s a three-hander about a middle aged woman with aspirations. And notions that she is well to do. Her slightly tawdry reality sadly does not exactly match her ambitions. She’s the type of woman that my mother would describe as ‘fur coat, no knickers’. A person who believes that if something is expensive then it is automatically classy and sophisticated. By no means is she a bad person. She is perhaps a touch deluded.

She Is having tea with her gossipy friend and neighbour, discussing her excitement that her white collar criminal son is getting out of jail after serving his time for fraud. The neighbour being interfering and troublesome, wastes no time in winding her friend up. The doorbell rings.

Who is it? Well it’s only that little Spanish trollop who’d been dating the jailbird son, and who our leopard-print clad heroine blames for having had her son jailed.

It sounded reasonable to my ears. It’s given me some bright ideas for staging it. Not appearing in it has allowed me to look at it more neutrally. It has a certain cheap potential – just like the main character in fact..

The piece I am appearing in (bud did not write) is called ‘Dog’.

I play a married man called Jim in this one. When I was first cast I must have been hallucinating. I thought I was too young to be married. Then I remembered that by the time my father was my age he was the father of five, with a sixth on the way.

As I didn’t write this one I will refrain from making any comment on it, other than to say that I love it. And that I can be a convincing husband.

I will no doubt be writing about this showcase over the next month.

You have been duly warned.

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