25/10/06
Wrap -
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I have another of my great days off, but as I am 'prolific' I am using it to do work.
This blog counts as work by the way, and I will be looking at the email that my brilliant new writing partner Steve Morrison (idle twat) sent me with all his ideas for this thing we are writing together which I'm not going to tell you about. I might even try and get a gig somewhere, as I seem to be getting more gigs pulled than pushed. I have just sent a text to attempt to rectify the problem.
So, Monday and Tuesday were spent filming on set.
I am murder on sets, it is one of those times when I actually start annoying myself, so fuck knows what the people around me are thinking. One of the other actors (Sam Bond - very good) said that I should get paid double for 'entertaining' the cast and crew but that is never my intention. I just get soooo bored that I turn into a five year old problem child. Why would somebody deliberately try (and succeed) to sabotage takes by making other cast members lose their concentration and laugh to the point that make up has to be called in? And you wouldn't think that the phrase "You did" or the word "Hey" could do this to professional performers, but it got to the point where that was all I had to say to make Diane Morgan describe me as 'lethal'. I was beginning to suspect that despite their laughter it was pissing them off, so I just did it another ten or eleven times to make sure, then stopped.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
It is boring though on sets. There's only so long you can talk about what you did at the weekend or flirt with the runners before you start losing the will to live. And yet I found the project on the whole really enjoyable...just little things like meeting and working with new people, discussing Blackadder with Richard Boden (which must bore the fucking pants off him) and sitting smugly in traffic on the M25 surrounded by people going to 'proper' jobs. All the cast were great, and I've just realised that the only member of the cast I haven't mentioned on here over the past few weeks has been Emma Ruth. So I'm mentioning her now. Emma Ruth. There we go.
Last night we had a "Wrap" party (despite the fact that they will probably have to re-record sound as someone forgot to press the right button the first time).
I am rubbish at parties.
Thing is, nobody has ever explained to me what you are meant to do. I don't really know what a party is for. I can sit and chat with people quite happily, but when does that become a party? I am one of those folk who just tend to "show their face" and then fuck off. I find them dreadfully impersonal, and the only time I have ever enjoyed one is when I have suddenly had a reason to get away from the party. Maybe they are just elaborate foreplay.
I don't bother with the parties in Edinburgh, and I always struggle at the yearly decadence that is the Avalon effort (which gets further and further away from Christmas every year...I reckon it will soon be a summer fete...but as long as they still have little people serving drinks I will be happy). I don't know what to say you see. You're either stuck with people you speak to regularly anyway so nothing is new, or you're suddenly thrown in with people you haven't seen since the last one, and there's normally a reason for that.
I realise I must sound like an utter bore in this post, but please don't get me wrong - if I knew what to do, or what they were for, I might enjoy one. But at the moment I assess them as forced 'fun'. Plus I'm not a big drinker - am uninhibited without alcohol, and have only ever used it to prolong 'wallowing'. Add to this the fact that whenever anyone produces a joint I have an overwhelming desire to punch them in the face, and you see my predicament? I think potheads are the dullest fucks in the entire universe and am happy to go on the record with that comment.
I'll stop this attack now, I'm starting to feel like someone's dad.
Let's just say that my hedonism takes a different form to sitting around drinking.
I realised on my drive home last night that I forgot to tell you that Julie (from the Pleasance Hut team) popped into my gig in Bristol on Saturday night. It was so lovely to see her. I've missed the people from Edinburgh. I was meant to meet up with Kat (you remember Kat, my stage manager) this week but she hasn't called. Julie gave me a badge and I spoke to her German friend in German. It always surprises people when they find out I can speak German. I think I may start to learn properly again as I was a little rusty, but I do enjoy speaking a different language. If anyone wants to know in German how to get to the train station from The Comedy Box in Bristol - I'm your man.
I also like hearing different languages. If I can't sleep in a hotel room I tend to put on a foreign channel. There's something about a foreign language that I find very soothing. Just try it - put on a dvd with a foreign audio track and close your eyes - it's lovely. It has to be a language you don't understand though (or only understand a little of). I was listening to Delia (the French actress I mentioned the other day) speaking in French on her mobile yesterday and I could have happily drifted off listening to it. That sounds both seedy and insulting all at the same time...I know what I mean...
Anyhow, I've taken up enough of your time.
Just quickly want to send well wishes and support to Bruce Devlin after his ordeal and hope he has a very speedy recovery. Every cloud has a silver lining and hopefully Bruce, you will be able to do more with your new and improved jaw than you could before (which, from what I have heard, will be saying something). And if anyone thinks I am being inappropriate, please do bear in mind that I am talking about Bruce "tactful" Devlin. Lots of love to you Bruce (not like that) xxx
I didn't get a reply from my text so I should get gone and be a bit more pro-active. At the least I should try and distract myself from the fact that I have to go to fucking Birmingham a-fucking-gain tomorrow night.
I might just move there...
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