20/01/2010

Thespionage.

Upon hearing that ex-Libertine Carl Barat is set to make his stage debut I did my usual; I sneered; I followed the sneer with a high pitched, squealy laugh of disbelief; I immediately dismissed it as yet another casting gimmick that has become de rigeur since theatres realised there was more money to be made in seducing successful musicians and TV or film stars to the boards / wings than to invest in productions that may excel in artistic tradition but fall flat commercially. As a dormant actor (I prefer that prefix to 'jobbing', 'out of work' or 'failed') it was a joy to find out that after struggling to move mountains with the one hit musical venture that was Dirty Pretty Things, Barat has opted to reignite a passion that hasn't (publicly, at least) burned all that brightly since an incomplete stint studying drama at Brunel University.

I then found out that the play in which he will star is Sam Sheperd's Fool For Love; a play that is widely regarded as a great two hander and a searing comment on the state of modern love. He will play opposite Sadie Frost (a person with whom Barat says, he has a "dramatic chemistry") in the show directed by Neil Sheppeck, artistic director of theatre company Love & Madness. Set in a dingy motel room, the play focuses on a warring couple in a fractured but cyclical relationship and explores how the weight of society can manifest and put pressure on a relationship. I recently read a study guide on the play, which contained the following description:

"Fool for Love is a western for our time. We watch a pair of figurative gunslingers fight to the finish — not with bullets, but with piercing words that give ballast to the weight of a nation’s buried dreams."

So in fact, isn't this part perfect for Barat? The above statement all but summarises his frequently turbulent relationship with one Pete Doherty and that's the kind of true experience that people like Daniel Day Lewis have to camp out in a jungle wearing a jumpsuit made of bark to achieve. In a
recent interview with The Times Online, that very question was put to Barat who - despite claiming to have studied the theory of the great (and very famous) acting practitioner Konstantin Stanislavsky - responded by saying, “God, I’ve honestly not thought about that before.”

Acting for screen and acting on stage differ greatly, but to me this is a little bit like say, Mickey Rourke, being asked if his career as a boxer informed his performance in The Wrestler and the response drawing a similar blank. As an artist, shouldn't the comparisons have been immediately evident? As an actor in particular it is important - when seeking to convey a truthful rendition - that one has a white knuckle grip on the essence of the text and the ability to relate your character's circumstances or emotions to your own. Granted, not every actor of note favours this 'naturalised', emotion led approach. However in believable acting, there must be a certain heightened awareness of how one's DNA differs or matches the characters, and this awareness is a prerequisite whether a debutant or a veteran. Indeed even Gabourey Sidibe, who claimed never to have acted 'seriously' prior to her revered turn in the film Precious was aware of how the character's insecurity failed to mirror her own and how it was becoming an almost diametric version of herself that was the challenge. As she recently told Guardian G2: "I guess physically I had the requirements but I didn't think I could do it. I know I'm awesome, but I didn't think I could be Precious, you know?" She goes on to describe how, psychologically, herself and Precious are worlds apart. Sidibe was majoring in psychology at the time she was cast and I would not hesitate to suggest that this foundation of knowledge of the psyche allowed her to more naturally transform into the mumbling, awkward, hunched figure that she inhabits for the film.

So was Barat responding in faux-surprise? Almost everything I've read subsequently suggests so. During another interview he smiled wryly at the suggestion and he admits that the parallels are there. This still doesn't alleviate my fears however, and it certainly does nothing to detract from my opening gambit; that theatre has become fixated with attracting 'new audiences' and that it's default means for doing so is to give pop culture figures, with their own in built fanbase, a crack at the whip. The director Sheppeck himself, has said whilst promoting the play:

"We are thrilled to have been given the opportunity to work with both Sadie and Carl and hope that through their involvement with the company we will be able to entertain not only regular theatre-goers but also to attract a whole new audience into the theatre for the first time."

In my opinion, he may well be missing the point. He isn't the first and I mean no ill faith in the production itself. Similarly I realise that Sheppeck is hardly about to start marring the promotion run with any misgivings he might have about Barat or the process involved in his casting. It just seems inescapable to me that such casting decisions - whether they work or not, and no matter how good the performances - only serve to undercut the view that theatre is an ailing art form. Even serious and traditional theatre actors who have made their names more recognised in popular television shows (David Tennant and Patrick Stewart, for example) have struggled to transfer their audience to a point where the members are taking their seats primarily to appreciate the play as opposed to opting for the experience merely to catch a glimpse of Dr Who or Jean Luc Pickard in the flesh at the stage door. Likewise when Harry Potter himself, Daniel Radcliffe, made his stage debut in Peter Schaafer's Equus a couple of years ago, more was made of his chiseled anatomical frame than the standard of the production. As it turns out, both the RSCs production of Hamlet (starring Tennant) and the Thea Sharrock directed Equus (with Radcliffe) received very good reviews and were excellently received by audiences and critics alike. And therein lies the difficult question; is theatre forced to turn to this kind of populist casting in order to survive and more pertinently, to prove itself? If the answer is yes, there are many young actors up and down the nation that face an even greater struggle than ever to make their mark in a historically finicky artistic medium.

12/01/2010

Shoot me...

I've been watching Celebrity Big Brother; not because it's mindless entertainment or because I think it's an important comment on our neo-post modern society or because I secretly want to track down Stephanie Beecham and keep her in a posh cellar; it is because it affords me the fing(s) I crave most; sneering and high pitched, squealy laughs of disbelief.

Now I know that writing about Big Brother isn't new and exciting and cutting edge but neither is my life, so like, why should my writing reflect anything but my repetitive, generic, onanist's pit of an existence? Look at me, giddily finking of and subsequently typing about masturbation. That's because I've looked into the corner of my monitor and seen that it's only 12 minutes til my next jerking sesh, where I spit my liquid all over the bastardised ugly duckling that is Celebrity Big Brother.
First off, Davina's still about then? For a minute I thought she'd become like Andie MacDowell; no longer synonymous with her actual vocation (for Davina, presenting reality based quasi-game shows and hyperactive compassion, for MacDowell, erm, them two good films she did in the nineties...actually I hate Four, Weddings...) and rather more like a kind of scarecrow representation of a horrible cosmetic company and it's incessant need to make every one more "beeeudiful".

I digress. Here's my utterly true prophecy about what will happen, who will win and why. Obviously knowing Big Brother's producers (which I don't by name, but do figuratively) who work hard not to disappear up the arseholes of their own contrivance whenever they all sit around the same table, they are probably plotting some twist that involves bringing Osama Bin Laden into the house and excitedly announcing his arrival like something off Surprise, Surprise; in which case they'll have to admit that, bizarrely, he'll be the only participant ever on Celebrity Big Brother with an immeasurable amount of fame. You heard it here first...
1. The winner...
Based on their status in the house, this is being battled out by Vinnie and Sisqo. Neither have shown a great desire to upset people unnecessarily and they're both respected by almost everyone for having talent; Vinnie made it clear early on how much he has achieved, looking almost like a man trying to goad a priest into a bare knuckle boxing match when outlining exactly how many films he'd done since his 'big break' in Lock, Stock...(is it 50 or 55? Count them yourself, here) Whereas Sisqo has proved on more than one occasion that he still has a good voice by, well, singing. Vinnie has the kind of power over people that would drive an egotistical idiot to tyranny, yet he manfully takes it in his stride and only slightly errs on threatening when someone probably faaakin' deserves it. Sisqo is a pint sized empathiser who I think is coming across very well as a delightful entertainer, an honest spokesman and a compassionate soul. But you've probably been watching his arse.

2. The loser-winner(s): housemates that'll come out looking good...
Strangely this is quite a well inhabited category; by that I mean that including the above, I think at least three people will leave the house much more popular amongst the masses i.e. the ravenous, Heat reading, bile farming crazies who in crude autonomy seem to demand this fing 'celebrity' on a nanosecondary basis.
Stephanie; looks after people when they're properly down in the dumps as opposed to comforting immature housemates that are probably just whingeing about how lentils aren't proper food; has some interesting philosophies ("Katja is a beautiful orchid, she has no roots of her own"); doesn't bang on too much about fame; remains unruffled even in the face of tantrum.
Dane; can be accused of just being too normal, but that's about all. His morals are in the right place; he is suitably self deprecating (as an ex-member of Another Level might well be); he has a sense of humour, but not a stupid one; seems simply too worn down by the low blows of fame to put on an act.

Nikki T; can claim to be the most diverting housemate I think Big Brother has ever had. Who would have thought for one second that I could have been sat here typing anything admirable about her? Let's get the shit out of the way first...she does ask stupid questions and I do think there are more interesting characters in the house and she did get on my tits when she joined forces with 'Sov' to strong arm Katja into an almost forced adolescent encounter with Basshunter...but the way she clarified her part in the 'nomination discussions scandal' and subsequently exposed Stephen to be a lying, bullying evangelist prick deserves insurmountable credit and in general she has conducted herself well without a) getting her tits out (which is meant to be her speciality) b) fondling some other housemate (I'm sure Heidi would jump at the chance) or c) resorting to racist / vindictive bullying to try and show 'a stronger side'.

3. The loser(s): housemates that will leave to hearty booing...

This is obvious isn't it? You don't even have to watch it. Just look in any newspaper at a photograph of Alex Reid, Heidi Fleiss (not so much the 'beating heart of the house' as the 'throbbing clitoris') or Stephen Baldwin and it evokes the following respective reactions; cross dressing neanderthal wrapped up in the fact that he cares much more than anyone else about his own inexplicable notoriety; extra from prisoner cell block H that has had all joy for life and compassion for others rooted out of her via her anus and left looking like Vincent D'Onofrio playing that alien in Men In Black who can't find a human body that fits him; failed actor with nothing to do but turn to an oppressive cul-de-sac of a perspective on faith, belief and positivity, yet feels no guilt or remorse at lying to people's faces about things he did or did not say. And really, is there an argument that oxygen does or does not exist? Next minute they'll be discussing the value of gravity, with Stephen swearing on his big book that it's God's little paperweights that keep us all on terra firma. And as for Katja...watching her is like retreading every sexually frustrating / heartbreaking memory from the age of 17 onwards. She blows hot and cold like a dragon eating an ice pop. Yes, Basshunter has been a bit cringe worthy with his improvised ditties (which normally go, "You are very pretty, I am happy to be here / as long as you are interested, if you're not I still want you"), and downright disturbing with some of his actions (if you nuzzle some one's neck and they try to crush your skull with their chin, they're probably not enjoying it), but it's all her doing. In that environment people only have to make eye contact for a prolonged period and they tend to feel obliged to act on it. Since writing this you've probably seen Ivana Trump convince Alex that older women with silicon mouths 'give better head', Stephen decapitate someone with his eery stare and Sov roll her eyes millions of times...you just wait til they put Osama in.








































Spleenbots

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Tired of having to tread carefully, like Heather Mills in a minefield.