Not again!

So, we held auditions on Wednesday for the three one-act plays (one of which is mine) to be performed at the end of May. 

In the past, the number of women who turn up have far outnumbered the men and it’s often been a bit of a scramble to fill the male roles. Not so this week. The number of men was surprising, the lack of women astonishing.

Amongst those who turned up was a British couple who both appeared in Cinderella. I was happy to see Helen, because I very much wanted her for Annie in my play. What surprised me was how well her husband Neil read the role of Frank. I was the only one of the three writer/directors who was spoiled for choice. There were a number of people who read the Frank and Ernie roles. (No doubt in my mind about Helen as Annie.) I really had to sleep on it before deciding on Neil for Frank (despite the fact that he definitely does not look like he’s in his late sixties – have to figure out what to do about that). Perfect, I thought. I have a Frank, an Ernie and an Annie. Oh, wait, that was before I talked to Helen. Despite appearing together in Cinderella, it seems they do like to have some separate activities and did not want to be cast in the same play. So Helen declined. Fuck.

There are a limited number of Brit women to choose from here. One, who would also have been good as Annie, is going to be away for a long UK visit during the rehearsal period. Then there’s Helen. Then there’s me. There are two women who can do a very good mid Atlantic accent, but both of them have been cast in the two other plays. Argh.

Which leaves me where exactly? After Ruby Red Lipstick last year I swore I would never again direct a play in which I was also acting. I really do not want to try to do it again. I could try to find another director, but who? 

It worked well when Dave directed Charlie and me in An Unhelpful Complication a few years ago, but we were all on the same page. (Well, pretty much. There were a couple of things Dave, as director, wanted with which I disagreed, but I let it go.) Fine. But That’s Nice in 2015 was an absolute nightmare. Two different directors, neither of whom actually got the play. (I actually wanted to kill the second one.) The rehearsals were not fun. So much so that on opening night I gathered the cast outside to say, “Okay, it hasn’t been great getting to this point, but the play is ours now, so let’s just have fun with it.” And we did.

Which is why I reluctantly decided last year to both play Violet (which I hadn’t intended to do) and direct Ruby Red Lipstick. It doesn’t work. A director needs to be able to watch and see everything that’s going on during rehearsals. You can’t do that if you’re also acting. (Yes, I know Orson Welles et al have done it, but films are different.) So I had to film all the rehearsals, come home, watch them and then figure out what Ben and I needed to do. Fortunately, it was a short play. The Waiting Room is longer.

Who could I get who would also get my baby? I’d ask Dave, but he’s already directing his own play. I’d ask Donna, but she’s in and co-directing the other play. (Of course, this wouldn’t be a challenge if Donna wasn’t in the other play, as she’s one of the two good mid Atlantics. But I do completely understand that she’s keen on something a bit more challenging than Annie, who, despite being crucial, is a pretty small role.) Argh.

The only good thing about ART being postponed is that I have a couple of extra weeks to figure this out. Hmm.