I was a massive fan of Trigger Happy TV back in the day. It’s wild to remember having to wait a week to see each episode whereas now you can binge an entire series in one sitting. But I’d be ready and waiting – quite possibly stoned – to watch the show every time.

So sitting down to interview Joly all these years later was a bit of a thrill. The man himself is now in his fifties, like me, and the conversation kicked off with the inevitable talk of age (he’d said he thought the idea of Silver Magazine was “a bit sad”). I’d just come back from a festival where my brain had been having fun, but my knees told a different story. I said I’d decided my body might be too old for festivals.

“I always think I’m 21,” agreed Joly. “It’s pathetic, but there you go. Festivals are just full of people our age acting like 21-year-olds, whereas the 21-year-olds are just sitting there getting really embarrassed.”

He isn’t wrong about GenX, behaving like kids where many younger people behave more like adults than we do. But Trigger Happy transcends, apparently. I mention how my daughter, who’s in her twenties, and her friends are obsessed.

Her reaction when I told her I’d be interviewing him? “Oh my fucking God, we all love Trigger Happy TV,” she said, and promptly messaged all her mates.

I wondered if he knew he has an army of younger fans

Joly seems nonplussed. “I had no idea at all,” he said. “Even my own children don’t know who I am.” I assured him this new audience is real. For younger viewers, part of the appeal is the jump-scare quality, the surreal surprises, the ‘cringe’. But most of all, I suspect, it’s the authenticity.

Joly agrees the landscape has changed. “When I did Trigger Happy, the whole point was to make hidden camera cool. I grew up on Game for a Laugh and Beadle’s About, which were just naff. I think I did make it cool.

“But hidden camera has always been the lowest rung in comedy. If you’re smart in comedy, you’re supposed to go and write sitcoms. In America, improv goes on to make Curb Your Enthusiasm and Spinal Tap. Here, improv has a terrible name.”

Two and a half decades on from the show, you realise just how much the world has changed

When Joly filmed those original sketches, nobody else was standing on the street with a camera. Today, everyone is – and they’re all uploading to socials before he’s even finished the gag.

He found this out the hard way when he revived his old traffic warden sketch. “I put on the old outfit, parked a car in the West End with forty tickets and four clamps. Before I’d even done the sketch, there were a hundred people around me filming. I got angry! It felt like I was providing content for their Instagram.”

Some things still work though. “One of my favourites was going into a builder’s yard with a crazy list: bag of MC Hammers, a forty-foot bastard, soggy chimps. That yard’s still there by Paddington. We did it again, new list, and it was even funnier. That’s going out and I’m really excited.”

He hates how fake much of the genre has become. “Hidden camera is the biggest format in the world because it’s everywhere online. But it’s almost entirely faked, and that really irritates me. Real people tend not to react weirdly. In fake ones they always overreact. You can smell it a mile off.”

I asked how he copes with the awkwardness of putting strangers in surreal situations. “I thrive on awkwardness, actually. People have called it cringe, and I hate that. The Office is supposedly cringe comedy. I don’t cringe. I positively encourage awkward situations because I like weirdness. I’m most alive when that’s happening.”

This attitude spills into his online life too…

Joly is notorious for sparring with trolls on social media. “It’s a war I’m never going to win,” he admitted. “But it just makes me… I think people don’t realise how toxic online is. I love an argument. If you wouldn’t say something to my face, don’t say it on here.”

He knows he’s not converting anyone. “I’ll kill one online, and another hundred pop up. It’s like whack-a-mole with wasps. I call it whack-a-cunt.”

For him, the internet has destroyed nuance. “Most of us are in the middle, with nuance. And nuance doesn’t exist online. Basically, you don’t get clicks for saying, ‘Well, on one hand, but on the other…’ The internet is a fucking nightmare. If I didn’t have to use it – and I do, it’s part of my job – I’d go offline in a second.”

What irritates him most is the online commentary that comes with resurfacing old clips. “Every time I show an old clip, half the comments are: ‘London, back when it was British. You do that now, you’d be stabbed.’ Total bollocks. I’ve just been and done it, no difference at all.

“The problems aren’t that people don’t have humour. The problems are things being stolen, or people assuming you couldn’t do it because it’s all ‘woke.’ What was un-woke about Trigger Happy? It’s ridiculous.”

We circle back to Trigger Happy TV

The show ended in 2002, but its legacy is everywhere. “Every day I get people going, ‘All you’ve got is one joke, shouting into a phone.’ And I’m like, wow, there were forty jokes in each show. I’m proud of it. Then suddenly I thought – fuck, it’s 25 years old!”

The prompt to create a new show came from a reuniting with his co-creator Sam Cadman, who had returned from years working in LA. Over a drink, the pair decided it was time to mark the anniversary. “It’s like my wedding,” Joly reflected. “I’m still married to Stacey and incredibly happy, but I didn’t enjoy my wedding. It just happened. I didn’t realise how big [Trigger Happy] was. I loved making it, but I never really celebrated it at the time.”

The result is Trigger Happy Live, a stage show designed not as a reboot but as a celebration.

“Essentially, I get asked the same questions every day about Trigger Happy. So this is all the questions you’ve ever wanted to ask but were too afraid to. Showing clips, what happened behind the scenes, some old characters on stage, stuff happening to members of the audience. If you love Trigger Happy, come along.”

“People say, ‘Is that all you’ve got, 25 years on?’ And I go, I bet you’ve got Oasis tickets. What do you think Oasis are doing? They’re just playing their first two albums.”

He’s tested the idea by screening two episodes in a cinema. “Watching it in a communal setting is incredible,” he said. “Everyone laughed. Watching as a group really holds up, it’s still funny. It’s nostalgic.”

Critics who accuse him of laziness miss the point

“People say, ‘Is that all you’ve got, 25 years on?’ And I go, I bet you’ve got Oasis tickets. What do you think Oasis are doing? They’re just playing their first two albums. For me, it’s just fun. I’m proud of Trigger Happy, I’ve got all these stories, why not?”

I obviously asked about the giant phone. The official story has been that it was stolen but I said I suspected it was because he was sick of it. “I couldn’t possibly comment,” he says, looking mock shifty. Turns out I was right, as the phone made an appearance on Saturday morning TV a week after our conversation. I strongly suspect it will make an appearance in the shows – how could it not?!

The Trigger Happy Live tour begins in October, with four shows planned. Southampton was meant as a dress rehearsal, but Joly pulled it in favour of playing it properly. “If those go well, maybe I’ll do some [more] next year,” he said. “I don’t know if I want to. It is a retro show, and I’m not massively interested in doing retro. But if it works, if it’s funny, maybe.”

There’s a lot more to Joly than Trigger Happy, though…

The truth is Joly has never wants to sit still. “Yeah, I’ve always called myself a crap polymath,” he told me. “I think I have two skills. One comes from nowhere: the ability to be funny in improv. I don’t use a script, I don’t know where it comes from, but I’m good at it. But I do need Sam. He’s like the bass player in Coldplay – Chris Martin’s the face, but something about us working together makes it work.

“And [the other thing is] travel writing. I grew up obsessed with it, and Trigger Happy opened doors. I started with The Sunday Times, I’m now on my tenth book. If I could just live on travel writing, I’d do that. I’ve been to 108 countries. I love writing, love that no one can fuck with it. It’s yours, you hand it over.”

It frustrates him that people can’t reconcile the man in the squirrel suit with the man writing serious travel books. “People don’t like you jumping lanes. Trigger Happy was such a big hit, I’m pigeonholed. That’s fine, but I think some don’t take me seriously as a writer. I’ve done six serious travel books, a million words in print. What more can I do?”

Still, he loves the variety. “I like not being bored. It’s not a bad life. I’ve been lucky, but you have to keep working, keep reinventing, or you fade. Hunger is a creative drive.”

His new book takes him down yet another path

After immersing himself in conspiracy theories for his last project, he needed an antidote. “My new book is called The Soul Tourist: In Desperate Pursuit of Happiness. The idea being: as a late middle-aged, grumpy ex-goth, can I find happiness? Really, it’s me taking the piss out of wellness and happiness, but with the tiny hope I might stumble on something that works.”

His travels took him everywhere from India to Denmark. “I went to Rishikesh, where the Beatles went in ’68. I went to an Ayurvedic place in Bangalore. Drove around Denmark, supposedly the happiest country. Checked into a Benedictine monastery – didn’t last long. I went fly fishing, because my neighbour swore by it. It wasn’t for me. So yeah, I’ve been looking for happiness.”

…as a late middle-aged, grumpy ex-goth, can I find happiness? Really, it’s me taking the piss out of wellness and happiness…

I asked about comedy heroes. “Weirdly, I didn’t really grow up into comedy. I don’t watch much comedy, don’t go to see it. I was more into music. But Dennis Pennis was massive. I love Seinfeld. I’m obsessed with Larry David, and Spinal Tap.

“But the person that really influenced me, you’ll maybe never have heard of – Noël Godin. A Belgian anarchist. His philosophy was: there’s no better way of determining a person’s character than how they react when they’re custard-pied. He pied one newsreader twelve times because the guy kept overreacting. [And they never recorded it or screened it.] Totally pointless, gloriously weird. That’s what I love.”

It feels like a fitting influence. Before we wrap up, I asked what advice he’d give younger comedians today.

“When people say, ‘You couldn’t do this today,’ I don’t think that’s true. Whether something is funny or not is simple: if you’re punching down, it’s not funny. Punching up, it is. Absurd is just life. Don’t be frightened of stuff. It’s about intent.

“I say things that would probably get me ‘cancelled,’ but not because I mean harm. Some people think you can’t do things, but if it’s funny, it’s funny. If you don’t like it, scroll on. There’s no joke everyone finds funny – it’s subjective.

“So what I’d tell young comedians is: just start. Do it.”

Trigger Happy TV Live shows are in October
There are some Work in Progress shows too
Find out all the details at www.domjoly.tv/dom-joly-tour/

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Talking Trigger Happy, trolls, and travel with Dom Joly appeared first on Silver Magazine.

London’s cosy Ambassadors Theatre is home to a new take on The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. If you loved the 2008 Hollywood production with Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett’s impeccable cheekbones, take note. This is an intelligent take, with a new British angle.

Jethro Compton has reworked the story by moving it to a Cornish fishing village, with much of the action taking place in the Pickled Crab pub.

Benjamin Button, played brilliantly by John Dagleish, is born a rather cantankerous old man to humble parents. And without giving too much away, he starts to age backwards, while everyone around him gets older. The passing of time cracks along nicely with the ridiculously talented cast singing, acting and playing their own instruments.

There’s no sunken orchestra pit of anonymous musicians here

Instead, everything from guitars, to a double bass, to a French horn is played live by the characters. Incredibly, a cast of 13 play thirteen different instruments.

Photo Marc Brenner

Of course, it’s easy to take home obvious messages from this tale, loosely based on F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1922 short story. Sure, it’s important to carpe the hell out of the diem. To tell someone you love them. Or that you’re sorry, or that they’re forgiven, before it’s too late. But that’s a message you can get from pretty much any given rom-com.

The message that resonated with me long after the Saturday matinee was that it’s high time we got over a few of the cliches about ageing that we often utter without really thinking about them.

Sure, it’s important to carpe the hell out of the diem… but that’s a message you can get from pretty much any given rom-com.

Anyone who has ever regretted something from their youth has likely uttered, “If I knew then what I know now…”. But when you see Benjamin Button getting to be the young man who already knows the lessons of later life, it’s an uncomfortable experience.

He may indeed have the wisdom of age in an increasingly younger man’s body. But it turns out that you still can’t change the people and events around you. The pain of this is etched on Dagleish’s face as he knows he will regress to babyhood and forgets everything he ever knew, while everyone else’s life moves ahead in the usual direction.

Read more: What it’s like doing amateur dramatics

Youth is not ‘wasted on the young’

Of course, only a rare – and probably deeply annoying – human being would look back on their life and honestly say they would have done everything exactly the same if they knew then what they know now. But equally, life is a process, a bell-shaped curve where we start out knowing nothing, we grow, we learn, we develop, we reach peaks and, if we’re lucky, we fade away at a ripe, old age.

This brings me to another tiresome cliche: “Youth is wasted on the young.” No. It absolutely is not. What better time to be silly, to make mistakes, to try new things than when you are unencumbered by cynicism or fear or second-guessing yourself? Of course, this means there is an attrition rate among the young.

There will always be a latter day Icarus who flies too close to the sun. And there will always be the heartbreaking stories of kids forced to grow up too soon because of circumstances beyond their control, such as poverty and losing parents at an early age. These themes of hard, young lives are apparent in this Benjamin Button performance, with the distinctly non-Hollywood setting of an early 20th century Cornish fishing village where few had an easy life.

But those of us who were fortunate enough to have a misspent youth, to have gotten away with the bad life choices and general idiocy, can rejoice, celebrate and look back fondly on it all. Maybe we can try and pass on the things we’ve learned to those who come after us, but we have to accept that our advice will not always be taken, just as we refused to take good advice in decades past.

In Benjamin Button, we see a man who is being chased by death in reverse

As someone born old, he is bemused by the joyous scenes in the bar of people singing, carousing and being merry. And as he gets younger, he only briefly gets to enjoy being the same age as his one true love – a rich, complex performance by Clare Foster as formidable and tragic Elowen Keen. His kids start to catch up with him in age, creating unexpected family tensions.

John Dalgleish as Benjamin Button. Photo Marc Brenner

The beauty of the performances of this latest incarnation of Benjamin Button, the deft script, the repeated song about the tide coming in, and the musicians as narrators counting away his backwards life by the years, months and days force you to confront your own mortality. Indeed, many of us will end our days in a state where our minds have rusted away, our memories gone forever, as helpless as when we were born.

But this is not to say The Curious Tale of Benjamin Button against the backdrop of a tough fishing village, a world war and family loss, is a morbid affair. Quite the opposite, in fact. By breathing a collective sigh of relief that there is sense, logic and rhythm to ageing the way we do, we can celebrate everything good about every stage of life. As a bonus, with this intimate, heartfelt performance, we can do that with a few rollicking sea shanties that had even the most cynical theatregoers clapping along by the end.

Georgia Lewis

In a career that has spanned Australia, the Middle East and the UK, Georgia has written about all sorts of things, including sex, cars, food, oil and gas, insurance, fashion, travel, workplace safety, health, religious affairs, glass and glazing… When she’s not writing words for fun and profit, she can usually be found with a glass of something French and red in her hand.

The post A new Benjamin Button in London is challenging ageist cliches appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Tina Fey’s sharp script from 2004 still holds up pretty well 20 years later. Mean Girls was one of those films that entered our vocabulary. “You can’t sit with us!” is a way to perkily exclude someone. “Stop trying to make fetch happen!” has been used countless times when someone tries to start a lame trend. And when someone is described as a “mean girl” – even if that person is well and truly into adulthood — the meaning is automatically understood.   

From screen to theatre, what are the differences?

Damian and Janis played by Tom Xander and Elena Skye. Photo: Brinkhoff/Moegenburg

Now Mean Girls has come to the stage at London’s Savoy theatre as a musical. There have been a few tweaks to the script because the world has changed and changed again in the past two decades. There are references to Ozempic, air fryers and smartphone filters. But perhaps the most significant change is making Damian and Janis, the two gay characters, the narrators. They replace Cady, the lead character and narrator played pitch-perfectly by Lindsay Lohan in the original film.  

It would be lazy and asinine to roll one’s eyes and scream “WOKE GONE MAD!” while waving a rolled-up copy of the Express at a cloud because of the new narrators. Bringing Damian and Janis to the fore is a great way to update the script. This doesn’t take anything away from a storyline that still resonates with pretty much anyone who went to high school.  

The prominence of Damian and Janis, performed excellently by Tom Xander and Elena Skye, modernises the show. It is a wonderful way to show how society has grown up and moved forward in the past 20 years. The script has come of age, along with wider society. Xander and Skye’s presence, peppered with dry humour and camp fun, is important for gay teenagers who will see this show.  

Changing times

That there hasn’t been an outcry over this change speaks volumes. No hysterical newspaper columns. No homophobic Twitter storm following the reviews. Good. While we are seeing a lot of increasingly angry, divisive and often toxic debate on LGBTQ+ issues, the elevation – without controversy – of two gloriously gay characters is a joyous, positive thing. It is a theatrical moment to be proud of.    

Regina George and Regina’s Mum. Played by Georgina Castle and Zoe Rainey.
Photo: Brinkhoff/Moegenburg

As for the story itself, fans of the film will be pleased to know it still follows the same 2004 arc.

The easy – some would say cheap – laughs are still there. Regina George still gains weight by accidentally devouring what she thinks is a diet supplement. Karen is still almost irredeemably stupid. Regina’s mother is still the tracksuit-wearing lush who wants to be her daughter’s best mate, rather than a parent.   

Would the script feel more 2024 if Regina became accidentally addicted to Botox and fillers? Maybe, although I’m not sure how that could be shoehorned seamlessly into the script.   

Was Karen’s idiocy laid on a bit too thickly? Maybe, although most of us can recall laughing at something daft someone said in class many moons ago. I remember one of my school friends responding to the history teacher asking, “What happened to Schleswig-Holstein after WWII?” She said, “he was shot.” I’m still a history nerd and that 33-year-old incident still cracks me up

As for Mrs George as the perma-drunk matey mum, I remember this genre of parent in 1980s and ‘90s rural Australia. I’m sure they still exist in the UK and beyond in 2024. They’re a fair target for parody. She (or he) could be reading this very article now.  

While this latest incarnation of Mean Girls has come of age, along with the rest of us, it’s not a classic coming-of-age tale. But it doesn’t have to be an earnest Dead Poets Society-style show. The universal themes of bullying, of wanting to fit in, of doing terrible things to each other all resonate way beyond our school days. In Mean Girls at the Savoy, they’re told with a lively script, a dizzyingly bright set and bouncy tunes.   

Another article you might like:Midlife Coming of Age

We are all Mean Girls deep down

Georgia Lewis and Sangeeta Pillai

My hot date for press night was the amazing Sangeeta Pillai, who runs an award-winning sex-positive podcast for South Asian women. Our school days were worlds apart. Mumbai and the Australian towns of Wagga Wagga and Bathurst might not have much in common at first glance, but we both went to school with people who are reflected in Mean Girls. Kids can treat each other abominably, no matter where you go.  

As Sangeeta and I discussed after the show, it is not uncommon to come across people in our adult lives who don’t seem to have evolved from when they were at school. Jacob Rees-Mogg, 55, is way too obsessed with where people went to school and what that supposedly says about them, for example. I can think of plenty of prominent people who make a fine living out of embarrassing attention-seeking. The other day, LinkedIn suggested I connect with a former boss who was – and for all I know and care, still is – the epitome of an overgrown mean girl.  

Schoolyard behaviour doesn’t necessarily end for everyone when they leave school. But the one thing we can control is our reaction to adult Mean Girls behaviour. The Mean Girls characters come of age and become better people before our very eyes on stage. And there’s no reason why we can’t go through this process multiple times when we’re adults.    

The Plastics. Played by Georgina Castle, Charlie Burns, Elena Gyasi and Grace Mouat
Photo: Brinkhoff/Moegenburg

Without giving too much away, there is an inevitable resolution at the end of Mean Girls. And in midlife, many of us come to our own realisations and resolutions about how we treat other people – and how we expect to be treated by others. It’s a bonus coming of age. My latest coming of age process has been about setting boundaries and not being afraid to cut out toxic people.   

There is plenty for grown-ups to relate to in the Mean Girls musical, whether it’s teenage characters who give you schoolyard flashbacks, teenage characters whose behaviour is reflected in adults, or adult characters who make you feel seen.

Above all, Mean Girls is a lot of fun. The main reason to go along is to have a good laugh. But only the most sheltered theatregoer will leave without having a few thoughts provoked by Tina Fey’s fantastic writing.    

Book tickets here: Mean Girls Stage Show

Georgia Lewis

In a career that has spanned Australia, the Middle East and the UK, Georgia has written about all sorts of things, including sex, cars, food, oil and gas, insurance, fashion, travel, workplace safety, health, religious affairs, glass and glazing… When she’s not writing words for fun and profit, she can usually be found with a glass of something French and red in her hand.

The post Mean Girls stage show – our review appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Stereotypes abound of lazy millennials and Gen Zs who are too scared to make a phone call, when they’re not busy being triggered by full stops. At the other end of the age spectrum, “OK, boomer” has become a widespread response to anything anyone over 70 says. Especially if it involves the alleged good old days. In the middle, Gen X is probably, I dunno, thinking ‘meh, whevs’ and listening to Absolute Radio 90s… But none of this beefing across the decades is particularly edifying or constructive – or even accurate in many cases. Which brings me nicely to my Red Pitch review, about a wonderful coming-of-age play.

The play centres on three 16-year-old black aspiring footballers, Bilal, Joey, and Omz. They live on the same inner London estate. And they are all hoping to impress the scouts at try-outs for QPR.

That might not sound like the premise for a relatable night at the theatre for anyone older than about 21. Or anyone who doesn’t care about or can’t play football. But it is definitely worth the pleasingly affordable ticket price. For all three, the chance to play for QPR represents a chance to be successful, help their families and overcome unfairly low expectations.

Emeka Sesay as Joey, Kedar Williams-Stirling as Bilal, and Francis Lovehall as Omz, photo by Helen Murray

The play doesn’t descend into tired stereotypes about gangs, drugs, or knife crime

Instead, it is a powerful state-of-the-nation wake-up call in a country. Where people are still judged by the colour of their skin, and their age.

As the surface is scratched, it soon becomes clear that Red Pitch is not just about three lads kicking a ball around and arguing over Twix bars, chips, and chicken wings.

Omz is a young carer for his 81-year-old grandfather. Bilal is living in the shadow of a tough father with impossible standards. Joey is the most privileged of the three friends, but he is full of righteous anger about those who are being left behind by the gentrification of their estate.

For anyone who was 16 many moons ago, there is a lot to learn from the fast-talking, wisecracking trio. When we – and our parents and grandparents – get older, caring responsibilities cast shadows over our lives.

The characters are hugely relatable

As much as anyone might want to be stoic and dutiful when it comes to caring for ageing relatives, it was easy to relate to Omz’s constant worrying about his grandfather. It is an act of love that will always be tempered by stress, heartache and glimpses of our collective mortality. It was tempting to rush onstage and give outwardly brazen but inwardly fragile Omz a hug. Especially as Soho Place’s in-the-round setting means you can almost touch the actors from the stalls.

Read more: behind the scenes of a small theatre company

With Bilal’s story, the pressure placed on him by his unseen but exacting father must have revived memories for many of the adults in the teen-heavy audience. Parental pressure to succeed – but only in certain fields – and dealing with teenage disappointment that lingers into adulthood, are themes that don’t stop being relatable as we age.

Then there’s Joey, who aspires to be a lawyer and a footballer. It might sound incongruous for a 16-year-old to be full of rage about the changes coming to their rundown but beloved estate. But the deft script means he doesn’t sound like London’s youngest pub bore. It is clearly a reflection of the displacement of social housing tenants that has happened at Elephant and Castle.

The neighbourhood has become shinier at the expense of soul and of the security of longstanding communities.  This is a big message for a play about three teenagers, but it is important and thought-provoking. It can be easy to forget how young people need that sense of belonging that is imparted by strong communities. Even if the buildings are unpretty.

Delving into nostalgia

For me, the play was enhanced by the fact I was surrounded by teenagers and young adults. The smell of Skittles, Doritos and teenage deodorants reminded me of high school in Australia. That era’s aromas were tuckshop food, Rexona Sport and Body Shop White Musk. I’m sure the scents have changed, but it is a universal and constant truth that rooms populated mostly by teenagers tend to smell like junk food and cheap fragrances.

When the initial feelings of nasal assault were replaced by nostalgia, it provided a sense of comfort. This amid a play that is designed to make people feel uncomfortable. As I left the theatre, I overheard an elderly gentleman confess that he only understood about 50 percent of the dialogue. But I hope that even if he was confounded by the fam-laden script, he was able to see that young people are facing challenges that are simultaneously unique to their generation, while being common to us all. We can and should do better to understand each other, rather than resorting to cheap stereotypes that reduce us all.

• Red Pitch runs until 4 May 2024 at Soho Place theatre, London

Georgia Lewis

In a career that has spanned Australia, the Middle East and the UK, Georgia has written about all sorts of things, including sex, cars, food, oil and gas, insurance, fashion, travel, workplace safety, health, religious affairs, glass and glazing… When she’s not writing words for fun and profit, she can usually be found with a glass of something French and red in her hand.

The post Red Pitch review: exploring cross-generational challenges appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Suzie Kennedy talks about being a Marilyn Monroe impersonator and how she plans to take that job a step further in Making Marilyn, a new play by Julie Burchill and Daniel Raven.

What inspired you to become a Marilyn Monroe impersonator?

Somebody said I looked like Marilyn Monroe. I never thought anyone could make money out of looking like somebody. It was bizarre to me! But once I honed my skills and was cast in an After Eights commercial with Naomi Campbell and Stephen Fry, my world opened up. It was the best decision I ever made.

How are you preparing for the title role in Making Marilyn?

Right now, I am rehearsing lines over and over again. I’m excited because I can hear Marilyn’s voice in the script. It’s easier to learn because it seems very much like her. I feel like she’s talking and breathing, so that’s how I prepare. I embody that feeling and can feel those words coming from her.

What aspects of Marilyn’s life and personality do you find most compelling?

Her complexity. In the play, she talks about how people have this image of her and, no matter what they find out about her to contradict it, they don’t want to accept it. I think we all have our own personal Marilyn, like we have our own personal Jesus. In that way, we view her personality to suit our own needs. Do we ever actually really know her? Did she ever know herself? Do we know ourselves? What I find most compelling is how much she represents us – and how we think and feel and project it onto her.

Can you share any interesting experiences from performing as Marilyn?

I’ve been so lucky, I’ve travelled all over the world. I was in films such as Blade Runner, and The Theory of Everything, which is about Stephen Hawking’s life. I got to sing to Stephen Hawking.

And I’ve been in the house where she filmed The Seven-Year Itch. I wore a white terry cloth robe exactly like the one she wore when she was hanging out of the window. It was completely crazy to literally walk in her shoes.

At the biggest-ever auction of her belongings, I got to wear her clothing. There will never be another sale like it because everything has now been sold.

What sort of things did you get to wear?

Her dress from Some Like It Hot, her ring, watches, jumpers, costumes and earrings from How To Marry A Millionaire and The Seven-Year Itch. I’ve been so blessed.

Suzie in several shoots as Marilyn

What challenges come with portraying Marilyn on stage?

Marilyn Monroe was a film actress, so we’re used to seeing her in close-ups and hearing her soft, breathy voice, which do not resonate on stage. With that comes a freedom. She never appeared on stage, so there is freedom to be creative. But it’s hard to put a film actress into the theatre and live up to people’s expectations.

How do you capture the essence of Marilyn Monroe?

It’s going to be easy to create her essence because Julie and Daniel’s writing has captured that essence of her. They have captured her voice for my Marilyn so well. All I have to do is bring my experience of nearly 30 years of playing her, combined with their words. And spraying some Chanel N°5 will help.

Read more: A history of lipstick through the ages

What do you hope audiences take away from this show?

I hope it challenges how they see Marilyn Monroe, how they see technology, how they see others, how they view others, how they use others. And it makes them question their relationships. What’s more important? Money, fame, or relationships? You have to see the play to know what I mean.

How has Marilyn Monroe’s legacy influenced your life?

She encouraged me to go for my dreams, to not be a victim of where you come from or what happened to you. Marilyn died young, but she had such bravery to overcome so much adversity. She champions my belief in all the complexities of being a woman – to be feminine, to be a bitch, to be an angel, to be sexy, to not be sexy.

Are there any moments in the play that really resonate with you?

This whole play resonated with me when I first read it. I was just thinking, please Julie, let me be Marilyn because this is my Marilyn. It’s the Marilyn I hear, the Marilyn that I feel. If I was in the hotel room with her, she would say these things.

There are scenes where she talks about how she is misunderstood if she doesn’t live up to expectations. She talks about feeling trapped by the studio to play dumb blonde parts. She talks about how you can be the loneliest woman in the world, yet have people around you. She’s wise, she’s hilarious, she’s tragic, she’s funny. It sums up her complexities and it sums up what it is to be a woman.

What advice would you give to aspiring performers who want to portray iconic figures like Marilyn Monroe?

To be able to play any iconic figure, you have to love them. You have to embody them and really take on what you think they were like. I love Marilyn Monroe and I love the fact that sometimes she’s not lovable, because sometimes I’m not. To play her is to accept all that she is. if you want to play anybody you have to accept everything about them, because that’s what love is. I accept every single part of Marilyn Monroe, including the parts that she said people found unacceptable.

• Making Marilyn runs from 3-4 May 2024 at Horatio’s Bar, Brighton Palace Pier. Tickets from £13. To book, click here

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Suzie Kennedy on Making Marilyn Monroe come alive on stage appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Despite a few po-faced reviews, Plaza Suite is a hoot. Georgia Lewis fights back with her Plaza Suite review. All photos Marc Brenner.

Theatre reviews can be a useful guide to spending your entertainment budget. Especially when ticket prices can set you back the equivalent of a weekend away in Paris. But a large grain of salt should be kept handy. This is the case with reviews of Plaza Suite, starring Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick. Who make the most of the chemistry and familiarity that comes with being married for 27 years.

The Daily Mail gave it a nostalgia-infused five stars, the Evening Standard gave it four stars and described it as “sensational”, while The Telegraph’s four-star review punnily opined that it “hits the suite spot.”

…they fizz with fun, physical comedy and farce…

But the Guardian’s Arifa Akbar gave it a miserable two stars, describing it as “dated”, and “flat and forgettable, not testing either actor’s seasoned skills on the boards.”

Never mind that Parker and Broderick are on stage for the entire three-vignette play, each playing three different roles. They alternate between comedy and tragedy for the first vignette that depicts a marriage where hitherto unspoken tensions bubble to the surface within an hour. Then they fizz with fun, physical comedy and farce amid assorted marital home truths for the second and third vignettes.

In his three-star review for Time Out, Andrzej Lukowski agrees that Plaza Suite is “dated”. And feels it would have been better if “a modern sensibility” was applied. Sam Marlowe for The Stage gives it two stars, declaring it a “mechanical museum piece”.

“Dated” is a weird description for a play written by a heterosexual man in 1968 about heterosexual relationships in 1968. And, frankly, there is nothing wrong with a period piece play shining a light on a bygone era.

Setting the scene; the first vignette

Broderick and Parker as Sam and Karen Nash. Photo: Marc Brenner

Of course, if it was written today, the luxury hotel room where all the action takes place would be sleek and minimalist with a Nespresso machine and Netflix on the telly. Instead, the set is a plush beige and gold Room 719 that would have represented the height of sophistication at the time.

The set provides a window on the play’s relationship stories. Hotel rooms are both intimate and impersonal. This is why the suite is the perfect backdrop to efficiently tell three very different stories. The slate is wiped clean for each new tale, as if room service has come by.

And if it was written today, there would probably be at least one same-sex relationship among the three mini-plays. Indeed, there is ample opportunity for an enterprising playwright to try their hand at a modernised adaptation. The trust issues of Sam and Karen Nash, the couple trying and failing to celebrate their 23rd (or possibly 24th…) anniversary in the first vignette, are not exclusive to straight couples.

Read more : Fancy a break away off grid in Wales?

In the second vignette…

Broderick as Jesse Kiplinger. Photo: Marc Brenner

Broderick plays thrice-divorced Hollywood producer Jesse Kiplinger meeting his high school sweetheart, Muriel Tate, who is now a star-struck New Jersey housewife. Parker definitely channels Carrie Bradshaw’s dippier moments for this one. Meanwhile, Broderick is a bitter Austin Powers – and possibly Ferris Bueller’s final form. Jesse and Muriel’s reunion keeps you guessing as to whether they will move from the suite’s living room to the bedroom. It is a light palate cleanser after the escalating seriousness of Sam and Karen’s arguments.

If Jesse and Muriel were gay high school sweethearts, that would certainly add a poignant twist to the lightest of the three stories. It’s easy to imagine them reuniting after a secretive teenage romance. Especially if it took place in less enlightened times – and it would be sadder still if, as adults, the characters were trapped in heterosexual marriages. Again, this is something an enterprising playwright could test at the keyboard.

Marianka Swain’s largely positive four-star review for London Theatre makes the curious criticism that Jesse referring to his ex-wives as “bitches” is jarring. No, it’s realistic. It’s not pleasant language, but it’s not even exclusive to 1968. You’d have to have led a pretty sheltered life if you’d never heard someone refer to their ex as a bitch. Or indeed a bastard. It’s how real people talk, whether it’s 1968 or 2024. If Jesse, a classic Hollywood arsehole, referred to his ex-wives as “horrid”, THAT would be jarring.

The third vignette…

Parker and Broderick as Norma and Roy Hubley. Photo: Marc Brenner

Where high farce and physical comedy are ramped up to Mach 5, centres on Roy and Norma Hubley. A long-married couple desperately trying to coax their daughter Mimsey out of the bathroom on her wedding day. Anyone who has been involved in wedding dramas will relate. Especially if you have ever said, “Well, they’ll have to go through with it now. Too much money has been spent already!”

My imagined enterprising playwright might want to make the family non-white. Perhaps with a deft touch to avoid cheap stereotypes about weddings in different cultures. Or perhaps Mimsey has cold feet about marrying her bride, while the hapless Roy and the magnificently-hatted Norma are desperate to show the world how open-minded they are.

I would pay good money to see a modernised adaptation of Plaza Suite

But equally, on my visit, the diverse London audience related to the universal themes of distrust, jealousy, desperation, wondering what might have been, social climbing, uncertainty, temptation, and familiarity breeding contempt. Universality is why the plays of Shakespeare still resonate, whether performed traditionally or given modern updates.

Universality is why the plays of Shakespeare still resonate…

Above all, I recommend Parker and Broderick’s Plaza Suite because it is a lot of fun. Not everything needs to make a big political point. Their performances bounce around the stage like exuberant pinballs, the costumes and wigs are almost characters in their own right. And even if the beige and gold hotel room isn’t to your taste, you might just enjoy the two leads throwing themselves into their roles with the full force of their true star power.

At the end of the day, showbusiness is still a business. The proof of the pudding is in bums on seats – and Plaza Suite run has been extended. The people and their wallets have spoken.

Book Plaza Suite tickets here

Georgia Lewis

In a career that has spanned Australia, the Middle East and the UK, Georgia has written about all sorts of things, including sex, cars, food, oil and gas, insurance, fashion, travel, workplace safety, health, religious affairs, glass and glazing… When she’s not writing words for fun and profit, she can usually be found with a glass of something French and red in her hand.

The post Plaza Suite review: A fun period piece with star power appeared first on Silver Magazine.

The latest West End incarnation of Sunset Boulevard is bold and compelling. It is a radical departure from elaborate stage productions or the lavish sets of the 1950 film starring Gloria Swanson as Norma Desmond, the faded Hollywood star desperate to make a comeback (or “return”, as she prefers to call it…) with a script that we’re led to believe is appalling and inappropriate for a woman of her years.

Instead of complicated set changes, the staging is sparse. Instead of sumptuous old Hollywood costumes, the cast wear simple black and white, including Nicole Scherzinger and Rachel Tucker in their interpretations of Norma. They spend their time on stage in a black, silky slip that works as a nightgown, a day dress with sunglasses and a cocktail frock with a party hat.

Rachel Tucker, starring as Norma Desmond

And it is because of the production’s raw minimalism that there is nowhere for anyone to hide. Their collective talent is crucial to this Sunset’s success. For Scherzinger and Tucker, this means their faces are projected on enormous screens during the show. Extreme close-ups.

Even in black and white, which tends to be kinder to lines, lumps, bumps and spots, it is too easy to call these two women “brave” for allowing their visages to be scrutinised by the audience. Equally, I would be lying if I said I didn’t gasp at the thought of my 47-year-old face projected 30 feet high in the Savoy, with the crows’ feet I resolutely refuse to Botox and textured remnants of teenage acne out there for everyone to see.

…we are still plagued by the pitiful notion that older famous women should look good for their age in a way that is not expected of men

But this is where we are. Sunset Boulevard is just as relevant in 2023 as it was in 1950 when it comes to how we view women who have the temerity to show their faces after 40.

Sure, things have improved for women over 40 in Hollywood, but we are still plagued by the pitiful notion that older famous women should look good for their age in a way that is not expected of men. They are free to become silver foxes, with cragginess seen as sexy in a way that is never allowed for women. While there is nothing wrong with age-gap relationships in the real world, Hollywood scripts still allow much older actors to hook up with much younger actresses in a way that seldom happens the other way around, unless the whole point of the story is that the woman is a cougar.

Norma’s desperation to still be seen as young and vital is integral to the Sunset Boulevard story, highlighted by the appearances of Hannah Yun Chamberlain as Young Norma, who is flexible and smooth-skinned. She hires Joe Gillis, a sexy-but-struggling young writer played by Tom Francis, to administer first-aid on her Salome script in the vain hope that Cecil B. De Mille will direct her in the title role. How we all laugh when she is adamant that she can play a teenaged Biblical character.

Nicole Sherzinger and Tom Francis as Norma Desmond and Joe Gillis

There are a couple of very telling lines that reflect what everyone is thinking about Norma Desmond’s comeback.

“Norma Desmond? She must be a million years old.”

“Nothing wrong with being 40, unless you’re acting 20.”

Yep, 40 is the new 1,000,000. Laughter rippled softly around the theatre both times I saw this incarnation of Sunset Boulevard when Norma was criticised for “acting 20”, which is code for trying to conform to ridiculous standards of physical beauty, while refusing to fade away or, at the very least, having the decency to grow old gracefully. How dare Norma try to relive past glories, as if she is Mae West, stubbornly playing blonde saucepot roles into her 80s.

It is in these moments, which are genuinely more heartbreaking and depressing than comic, that we see the main differences between Scherzinger’s and Tucker’s interpretations of Norma Desmond’s desperation and descent…

As Scherzinger’s face is projected onto the big screen, her eyes become big and wild and there is a hint of Joan Collins-style campiness to her expressions. It sounds ludicrous, but it works. As she loses her grip on the grim realities of Hollywood for women, she becomes a sad, cartoonish figure, genuinely horrified that her star is fizzling out.

Tucker’s facial expressions are more measured, but equally compelling. Where Scherzinger is wild-eyed and angrily resentful, Tucker’s Norma comes across as a sad woman on the brink, knowing that the curtain is coming down on her career. She is more than a little scared about her fate, while still trying to fight cruel inevitability.

Between the two female leads, they capture the gamut of women’s experiences of ageing in the spotlight – denial that they’re considered too old, fear of irrelevance, sheer horror at being told to act their age, grim determination to fight, validation through sex and admiration, and heartbreaking resignation – which is why I strongly recommend seeing both Scherzinger and Tucker’s interpretations, if time and budget allow.

In contrast, Cecil B. De Mille’s age is never an issue. He is a Tinseltown elder statesman, a man respected for his years of experience. Nobody ever suggests he is past it. The audience only ever sees the back of his head. His appearance is not an issue. Meanwhile, Betty Schaeffer, the ambitious young studio exec, played by star-in-the-making Grace Hodgett Young, is torn between career and personal life and you leave the theatre with the feeling that she will never quite have it all.

On one level, it is depressing that a 73-year-old story about an ageing woman is still relevant. At the same time, this stark, confronting new production, regardless of who is playing the lead, shines a harsh, unforgiving light on our own prejudices about women, whether we’re famous or not. And it’s a light that still needs to burn.

Midlife is a time for change, not the mythical “midlife crisis” – Read more

Georgia Lewis

In a career that has spanned Australia, the Middle East and the UK, Georgia has written about all sorts of things, including sex, cars, food, oil and gas, insurance, fashion, travel, workplace safety, health, religious affairs, glass and glazing… When she’s not writing words for fun and profit, she can usually be found with a glass of something French and red in her hand.

The post What the latest Sunset Boulevard production tells us about older women appeared first on Silver Magazine.

It is perhaps serendipity that what was once the Raymond Revuebar is now the setting for Bernie Dieter’s Club Kabarett. Back in the 1970s, Raymond’s club hailed itself as ‘The World Centre of Erotic Entertainment.’ And several decades on, Club Kabarett may just be the sexiest show in London town right now.

Even the brand spanking newly refurbed bar/club – all polished concrete, smooth surfaces, glass walkways and flashing scarlet neon – is pretty darned seductive. But then production company ‘Underbelly’ – they of the big purple elephant fame – always go that extra mile, as anyone who’s seen their award-winning shows at the Edinburgh Fringe or on London’s Southbank will attest. The company has taken over the former Revuebar, sprinkled stardust over it, and renamed it Underbelly Boulevard.

It’s a rainy autumnal night when we pitch up at the UB in Walker’s Court, Soho. After a glass of bubbles, our sense of excitement is also fizzing as we queue up to get into the theatre proper. There’s already an element of wondering just what will await us on the other side.

Rows of seats circling a small, round stage, that’s what, with a punky three-piece band playing at the rear of the venue. And also a balcony offering a great view of the stage. The balcony is where we are seated. It’s a plus for two reasons. A) The view of the stage is excellent. And B) there’s no chance of being selected as an audience participant. While I enjoy a bit of AP, I don’t if I’m one of the chosen few.

I’m also loving the low lighting, bathing the mini-arena in reds and blues and purples. It feels intimate and, yes, sexy. Especially as ‘down below’, girls in PVC and lads in Lycra strut up and down like a kind of slightly kinked warm-up for the first appearance of MC Miss Dieter herself.

Miss Dieter herself

Bernie Dieter’s Club Kabarett is the very first show to take to the stage at Underbelly Boulevard. Born in the former east Germany, Dieter has been described as ‘the first lady of Weimar punk cabaret’ and is a cross between Lady Gaga, Marlene Dietrich and Frank-N-Furter from The Rocky Horror Show in sequins. Let’s just say she’s sure as hell no shy, retiring type.

Bedecked in tassels, feathers, a Westwood-style kilt, ripped fishnets and sparkly stilettos, she struts onto the stage like she owns the place. Which she kind of does for the next few months. She’s seductive, sultry and velvet-voiced but also a bit scary – a tantalising combo of allure and menace. Within minutes, she’s straddling a male audience member in the front row before enlisting the help of two others whom she dubs ‘Shaven Haven’ and ‘Silver Fox’ to carry her back to the stage, legs akimbo.

Once back-on-the-boards, she announces that what we are about to witness is all about ‘letting loose, letting go, and getting a little bit intimate.’ Aided by the ‘punky, freaky and weirdo’ acts she will introduce us to over the next 90 minutes. This is interspersed at interludes with the lady herself taking to the stage in an array of different costumes and singing songs with racy lyrics, such as one which regales the tale of how she was fed gin by her Oma (granny) when she was just knee-high to a stiletto.

First up is Blue Phoenix, who twirls his unbelievably flexible and barely-covered body, complete with sky-scraper 12-inch heels on his feet, around a mid-stage, hastily-erected pole. It’s muscle town, sinew city – total brawnsville. And, yeah, we can see why he won Mr Pole Dance World last year.

It’s a real heart-in-mouth moment – several of ‘em actually – to witness aerial duo, The Seifart Sisters, contort and bend around each other with sublime skill and subtlety. This would be impressive enough on terra firma, but they do what they do mid-air. And without any kind of safety net.

A very different aerial act arrives in the form of the balletic Joe Keeley whose body weaves in and out of attached-to-the-ceiling, stage-trailing silks with such grace it’s as if he were another piece of fabric. The act of muscley drag queen Adam Malone, who apparently ran away to join the circus at a young age, is one of a kind. Let’s just say, I never imagined that a teabag and teaspoon could be used in such an inventive way. Looks a bit painful to me but Adam doesn’t flinch.

Then there’s high-octane, highflyer Bella Diosa. She contorts her amazing body into some eye-watering positions, she eats fire, she hangs by her hair… just one of these would do for me! One can but dream.

So, to conclude, if you happen to be in the Smoke, I can think of no better way to spend a pre- or post-Christmas cold winter’s evening than being warmly and weirdly entertained by the magnificent Miss D and her troupe of remarkable ‘reprobates’. I run into our hostess on the way out and ask her if the gin thing is true. ‘One hundred percent,’ she smiles. ‘Proof!’ Rather like her show, then!

To have your own night at the Kabarett…
Tickets from £25
21st November – 6th January 2024
Get your Kabarett tickets today

Alison James

The post Oh Kabarett, oh Kabarett! A sexy Soho show to remember appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Nobody said doing what you love is easy. Life gets in the way; children, jobs, bills. And before you know it, you can feel like your dreams of fame and fortune are lost. But perhaps not. If theatre is your dream, and you’ve ever wondered what it’s like doing am dram, we’re going to take you backstage to find out.

Meet some of the Southwick Players. The Players is a long-standing theatrical group based in Sussex presenting community theatre since 1935. Producing multiple shows a year, there’s everything from a mix of musicals, comedies, contemporary plays, to the classics.

And many of the Players directing, set-building, writing, making costumes, and acting are over 50. They’re busy proving that it’s never too late to engage that passion you might have put on the back burner.

Meet some of the Players

Ron Common

I do find it challenging to accept that I can’t be in every play

I’m a retired railwayman whose journey has been shaped by family, golf, painting, and an unexpected venture into theatre. 

Ron Common

Getting into Southwick Players is a bit of a long story. My sister-in-law and her husband were members of Shoreham British Legion and someone came up with the idea of doing a panto, using a script written by a member during the war. I commuted to the panto rehearsals with a chap who was a member at Southwick. I turned up to learn more, and felt it was time to stretch myself. That was 31 years ago now.

Joining Southwick Players gave me the opportunity to direct my own first full-length play, Whose Life is it Anyway. I was fortunate in having an exceptional cast to work with for this very moving play. I’m often seen as always being ready for a laugh, and although I am, this showed my serious side.

Balancing rehearsals and performances has been made easier by my wonderful wife and previously patient and tolerant bosses. Now I’m retired, everything is much easier to fit around rehearsals.

Ron in A Christmas Cracker, 1997

I do find it challenging to accept that I can’t be in every play. Getting older means you can’t sing or dance as well as you used to, and learning lines becomes harder. I have to conquer my ego that says I should play lead in every production. But, that’s not to say you shouldn’t audition for the parts that feel right for you. Of course, the director has the final say when casting, but there are other ways to get involved in productions. I’m currently our props co-ordinator and archivist, and I’m soon to direct A Tale of Two Cities.

For anyone contemplating amateur dramatics, I’d say go for it. You’re never too old to try. Ok, there may not always be parts for someone your age but there may be in the next one. If you don’t fancy acting, there are plenty of other areas vital to production. 

Read more: My first time taking a holiday alone over 50

Chrissie Blount

Being a member has comforted me through many personal ups and downs

I enjoy a full life working part time, singing in choirs, volunteering, and of course being in Southwick Players. All despite being in my seventies. I had always enjoyed singing in school choirs and so on,

Chrissy Blount (Credit: Tom Faulkner)

but I didn’t really venture into theatre until about 30 years later, when I was chivvied by neighbours to help organise a panto to raise funds for the local village church hall roof. I ended up being the heroine (very badly cast!) and organising the songs. I was terrified, but it re-ignited my love for the theatre – watching, performing, singing and being part of a group.

I then got into Southwick Players through a golfing pal, Ron, who I’d watched in various productions. He convinced me to play a green elf in the play Lord and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett, in about 2000. 

Being a member has comforted me through many personal ups and downs. Even when I’ve had a break from productions, the social events and friendships have provided stability. I’m surprised at how many friends I have made. Even through Covid, we banded together to perform some murder mystery productions over zoom to raise money for various charities. When everyone was feeling cut off from family and friends, we got to bring a little entertainment to people; we even had some audience members joining from America.

Chrissy Blount as The Duchess in Murder on the Simpleton-Orient Express (Credit: Tom Faulkner)

Before Southwick Players, I don’t think I realised the satisfaction I’d get from audiences appreciating the shows. Especially after I’ve had a hard time learning a new accent for the role.

Being in amateur dramatics later in life does have its challenges. I have to make sure my phone diary is always up to date, so I can plan my time. I like to be busy, so it’s just a question of being sure of what I can commit to. I feel lucky that I have the opportunity to get involved with Southwick Players, when for others it’s not as easy to do so.

It has totally helped me build my self-confidence over the years. Just being able to prove to myself that I can learn something new. But, also when I’ve had personal issues or health concerns, the support of the group has been a huge benefit. Any drop in confidence is quickly boosted again. 

Tim Ingram 

You don’t have to be a stage performer from day one to get involved with amateur dramatics

Tim Ingram. Photo: Miles Davies

I was heavily involved in local theatre during my younger years, until work and family commitments took precedent. It wasn’t until taking early retirement in 2015 that I was invited to join my old theatre group for a production of West Side Story. My love for musical theatre was rekindled. I’ve been with the Southwick Players since a friend encouraged me to audition for a play her was directing, in 2019. It was immediately a very warm and welcoming community of people, and has become something of a second family.

In my older age I do find learning lines much harder when doing a play. Actually, recalling lines is much easier with music (a little tip for those of you who also struggle)! But, my maturity brings an element of enhanced skill in performing. Although less so physical performing. I suspect my stage dancing days are pretty much done.

I do think theatre means a lot to people. Being involved with theatre at a young age helped develop my confidence and communication. Additionally, we wouldn’t have shows with the audiences and the support they provide. There’s also a lot of work that goes on behind the scenes to deliver a show. Our workshop teams that provide the sets, the props people, the costumiers, the front of house teams. They all bring such skill and are often the unsung heroes.

You don’t have to be a stage performer from day one to get involved with amateur dramatics. There are lots of roles behind scenes if you’re nervous to tread the boards straight away. 

Elizabeth Gibson

Acting now does have its challenges that weren’t there when I did youth theatre

I’m an ex-Londoner now living in West Sussex. I’m not in paid employment any more, but I volunteer for a couple of charities. I’m a member of several amateur dramatics companies, as parts for ‘women of a certain age’ are sometimes few and far between.

Elizabeth Gibson

After being involved in a big choir, we sung a lot of choral masses in Bulgarian, I was persuaded to try amateur dramatics. I hadn’t trodden the boards since my days in youth theatre in South London, so went to see a play by my local group. After a few shows with that group, I looked for another good group with parts for me and found Southwick Players. 

I’ve met some great and talented people through the group. Being in a show usually means turning up for rehearsals two or three times a week. You do, of course, have to spend time learning lines. I usually call upon my husband’s support and understanding, and his ability and willingness to prepare his own meals.

I will never forget the first play I did with the Players, See How They Run. It’s a farce, with lots of vicars, and people pretending to be vicars. Rehearsals were all great fun with lots of laughter amid the seriousness involved in putting on a comedy. And the show was a great success with audiences.

Elizabeth Gibson in pantomime costume

At one point I had to ‘pass out’ and lie on the floor, while other characters ran in and out, jumping over me. One of these accidentally trod on my hand and reminded me of it every time I saw him afterwards. It hadn’t particularly hurt, but as the young man has since passed away I think of him every time I think of the play – he was a particularly brilliant actor and much missed.

Acting now does have its challenges that weren’t there when I did youth theatre. When I was young, I could learn my lines on Sunday for a play we were starting rehearsals for on the Monday. Nowadays, it takes a lot longer to get them into my head. Movement is a bit more restricted too. Recently I was called on to do a backwards roll, and I did try. But we ended up having to adapt my exit to crawling off, which I was just able to do. 

Roy Stevens

I live on my own and it’s a great way to be involved with a group of friendly likeminded people

I’ve been a retired bank manager for about ten years, although I have now retrained to work part time teaching English to foreign students in Worthing. I’ve been involved with amateur dramatics for many years, and a part of Southwick Players since lockdown. So, my first interactions with the company were over zoom meetings to read plays.

Roy Stevens

Southwick Players has had a big impact on my life. I live on my own and it’s a great way to be involved with a group of friendly likeminded people. It gets me out of the house regularly, and there’s a good social side to it. 

You do have to be quite organised and disciplined with your time. Learning lines takes a lot of effort, and I normally allocate some time each day to go over lines. You have to attend two rehearsals a week, and show week is a big commitment, so normal life gets put on hold that week.

From my experience, I think the biggest challenges of being an older perform are that you have to work harder to learn lines, and perhaps stamina for the role you’re playing. Or, if the show is physically demanding, pantomime for example, can be quite draining in a way that wouldn’t have been twenty years ago.

If you are considering joining an amateur dramatics group later in life my advice is, “don’t just sit there do it !” It’s great fun, get’s you out and good for your mental simulation. Even if you don’t want to act there are always plenty of jobs to do back-stage and they are generally a very friendly bunch of people. Expect a warm welcome, but be prepared for a commitment of time and effort, you won’t regret it.

Sally Diver

Theatre holds a mirror in front of society and reminds us how lucky we are that we’re free to be creative and express ourselves

For most of my working life I was a secretary, alongside raising two wonderful children who have blessed me with five adorable grandchildren. I retired early and took a part time job as a view guide for an estate agent. Being paid to show people around new houses and chat all day, what’s not to like?

Sally Diver

I wanted to go to a children’s theatre school as a young girl but my mother put a stop to that. Then after school I considered getting into acting; but I started a job, met a boy, and before I knew it I was a wife and mother. I saw an ad for Southwick Players in our local newspaper and went to an open evening. That was thirty years ago now!

Southwick Players has made me friends for life. I met my best friend through Players. We go away on holiday all over the world, fortunately my hubby doesn’t mind. I also do voluntary work, through Players, for the Southwick Community Centre. I carry out the training of the front of house staff, and organise cover for many visit acts.

Being part of this group has filled my life with many benefits. I’ve grown from a shy actor to a director, and even temporarily the acting president of the Players. Plus, found I’ve got a knack for advertising and won Best Publicity at the Brighton and Hove Arts Council Drama Awards six years on the trot.

Sally Diver on stage (Credit: Miles Davis Photography)

Performing arts plays such a key role in encouraging us to expand our imaginations and explore our emotions. Theatre holds a mirror in front of society and reminds us how lucky we are that we’re free to be creative and express ourselves. It’s certainly a tool for education as well as entertainment.

I don’t think you ever stop learning in theatre. I’m sure my style has changed, but only because I’ve got more experience. I try to play it as naturally as possible. If you don’t believe, then neither will the audience. Although directing is much more my thing now.

Frank Horsley

Acting with the Players has boosted my self-esteem and made the outside world easier to negotiate

Now retired after 40 years as a journalist and two years as a drummer in an Elvis tribute band, I fill my days with walking, reading, attending concerts, and reunions with old journalist friends. I reviewed many of the Southwick Player’s shows in the 1970s as a young journalist. However, I didn’t go on stage until 1996 with Adur Theatre Company for a behind the scene panto feature in the Worthing Herald paper. This led to me joining the players in 2005, first appearing in Scrooge the Musical.

Frank Horsely in the Government Inspector poster

Being with the Players has made me lots of new friends. It’s also a brilliant place to regularly venture outside your comfort zone, either in taking on weightier roles or performing to a larger audience. 

Being retired and living alone makes it a lot easier to devote myself to the months of preparation needed for any production. When I was still working, I always took show weeks off, because it’s almost impossible to focus on anything else when you have the next performance buzzing round your brain.

Acting with the Players has boosted my self-esteem and made the outside world easier to negotiate for someone who was desperately shy as a youngster, but there’s never any room for complacency or cockiness. You’re only as good as your next performance. 

If you’re considering amateur drama, just do it. You’re a long time retired in that great green room in the sky. And although I’m far from impartial, expect and embrace a warm welcome from the Southwick Players.

Feeling inspired?

You can find more about the Southwick Players and their upcoming performances on their website.

To find an amateur drama group local to you, visit Drama Groups.

Lana Hall

Lana can usually be found spinning her collection of records, or writing odd poems in her phone notes. Her mixer of choice is a ginger beer, and you’ll never find her away from the sea for more than a few weeks.

The post Behind the scenes: what it’s like doing am dram appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Actor Joe McGann is well-known to many of us for his work on screen and stage. And we’re proud that he’s frequently been a writer for us here at Silver. But he’s taken a leap of faith, inspired to co-write – and perform in – a play with Jake Norton, centred around ‘an intervention.’

Sober Companion explores the funny, raw, and sometimes dark places of fame, addiction, and recovery.

Dan (played by Norton) is a high-flying prime time television presenter. He also has a bad habit which he denies, but he’s not hiding it as well as he thinks. 

Gerard (played by McGann) has seen it all before. He has personal experience of recovery that could be useful to Dan, so his services have been engaged. 

There is an intervention, intrusion of privacy, a stranger in the midst. We all need a little help sometimes, but it can be difficult to admit.

As Oscar Wilde once said, “No good deed goes unpunished.”

I caught up with Joe to find out how it’s going, what it’s like acting in something you’ve written, and how he’s coping with doing it all.

L-R Joe McGann and Jake Norton with Bill Elms and Antony Proctor-Williams of Liverpool Theatre Festival

How does it feel to have your work premiere this weekend then!?

Well, it’s both exciting and terrifying! It’s at this point, four days before the first performance of anything, that I usually think “why the hell do I put myself through this?” 

It will pass as I get nearer to showtime, but the struggle is real, as they say. That said, this is slightly different in that it’s going to be in my home city, a play that I’ve co-devised and co-directed, so there’s a genuine excitement at performing in front of friends and family. 

The venue is also an interesting one; they call it The Bombed Out Church, and the stage is built at what was the altar end of the church. It’s open to the sky, and so the whole experience is different from the usual theatre atmosphere. And I think all the better for that. So… bring it on!

Your play explores the theme of an intervention…

Jake and I were looking for something that two actors could do, and we were excited dramatically by the idea of an intervention. An intervention, especially in the workplace, is one of those things that absolutely nobody would welcome, that anybody would kick against, that no one would admit that they needed. 

Since we started writing, of course, the Phillip Schofield and now Huw Edwards stories have broken, and the murky world behind the scenes, in dressing rooms and HR departments, has come under scrutiny.

In the ever more increasing reach of the world of HR and this notion of a ‘duty of care’ they are becoming more common. This is very fertile ground, dramatically, and when we, purely coincidentally, happened on the idea of setting the intervention in the dressing room of a fictional ‘National Treasure” of a TV presenter we were pleased because it gave us a setting that many people are curious about. 

Since we started writing, of course, the Phillip Schofield and now Huw Edwards stories have broken, and the murky world behind the scenes, in dressing rooms and HR departments, has come under scrutiny. These dressing room fiefdoms are where media monsters are made, and often these people believe themselves genuinely untouchable. 

We thought it would be good to examine the relationship one such person had with themselves, with their loved ones, and, frankly, with reality. The patterns of behaviours that come with any addiction are pretty similar, and this gives us a template to ask universal questions about fame, recovery, privacy and publicity in what we hope is an entertaining way.

Writing is a very exposing thing. How did you push through self-doubt?

Ah, my constant friend, imposter syndrome. It’s always been with me, and I guess I’m so used to ‘pushing through it’ that this has actually become an intrinsic part of my process. It’s always there, and nothing I’ve ever done has managed to quiet it for longer than very brief moments, so the only thing to do is to embrace it. I hope that it sort of helps keeps me grounded. 

I’ll be twenty years sober next year, and the self-doubt can stay. It’s much easier to deal with than going back on the lash

Hand on heart, the only thing I ever found that I felt quieted it was a cocktail of alcohol and drugs, and that didn’t go too well as a plan. I’ll be twenty years sober next year, and the self-doubt can stay. It’s much easier to deal with than going back on the lash; for me and all of those I love. Low self-esteem and self-doubt are among the most common reasons that people turn to drugs and alcohol in the first place. We touch on this in the play. 

How will you balance the roles of writer and actor?

Jake Morton (left), Joe McGann (right) during rehearsals for Sober Companion

Pretty easily I would think- I mean my dance card isn’t exactly full of offers for either, so I will always have time, I should think. I would like to carry on writing plays, though. 

I think this process has pushed me through to a place where I feel confident enough of my ideas. I have another play in development as we speak, and that is exciting me just now. I guess the learning curve is perpendicular from my feet, and I feel that that’s a very privileged place to be.

What aspects of the theme do you find most intriguing or challenging to portray?

While I’ve said that there are many recognised symptoms shared between addicts of all kinds, I think that we are way too quick to judge the addict by their transgressions rather than recognising their pain. 

…we are way too quick to judge the addict by their transgressions rather than recognising their pain.

It also strikes me as odd that we see so many Instagram accounts and books all trumpeting about the ‘joys’ of the recovery ‘journey’. Getting one’s life back together after the horrible mess of addiction is most definitely a journey, but I feel that it’s more pilgrimage than parade. 

I’ve never felt comfortable when people congratulate me for straightening myself out. All I’ve done is stopped being destructive to myself and those around me. I’ve just come up to par, if you like. Made the basic requirements, and I’ve tried to explore this in the play. 

Sober Companion is showing as part of the Liverpool Theatre Festival 2023
Book tickets here

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Joe McGann’s Sober Companion: an interview about an intervention appeared first on Silver Magazine.