It has been a few weeks and a sliver, since I last updated this blog. The obscenities of life and its complications managed to catch up with me, after the StageWrite week. For that, I apologise.
It’s a Thursday, I’m listening to Joy Division albums, and the week is still fresh in my mind. What a week. It was revitalising, to see such a comprehensive amount of new writing in Bedford!
The first show of the Saturday, we were peeping toms in a grungy room of a hotel, which looks as if it has reeked of one night stands and room service, before our being there. In the imaginable four walls of the hotel, we meet Gavin; an administrator who works for a boiler company, work that one out..
We find out that this administrator is doing more than adding up counters on his abacus, but attempting to pile up the notches on his bedpost.. But not with his charm, wit and looks.
We find that Gavin is a first time, prostitute. Gavin has hired Lana.
His motive for hiring Lana, is that it’s one of those bucket list things, that some men (actually do) have; which are to be completed before they are hitched, or further responsibility pops out.
Like any first time experience, it can either go one way or another.
Yep, it got interesting. The satirical awkwardness in parts, left the audience knee slapping, and manifesting hysterical yawps.
Gavin’s priceless moments of naivety, kept us as an audience in giggles and shaking our heads.
Come-what-may, throughout the 45 minutes, we see everything but lovemaking (for obvious reasons! also Bedford isn’t ready for nudity).
Through the interaction between Lana and Gavin, we discover, through not so sexy pillow talk, that both vary in characteristics, yet are united in secrets, which again, like the rest of the week, holds a philosophical scope.
As the applause ended for Intercourse, we take a flight with Andrew Maddock.
Cyprus Sunsets was slamming! Literally. A one man slam poem, play. Brilliant. The meter and satire, packed a punch with the heartbreak tale of the lack of love and loss of a man’s child.
Poetic, yet brimmed with wisdom, Maddock, ended the week with a truly exceptional sunset.
A method of theatre, that I’ve not seen before, and I don’t think most of the audience had either.
Kate Tempest-esque, the style of story telling, took us through an album of kodak memories of ‘bulldog families’, ‘lager louts’ out for the typical sunshine, sex and stitches. Each ‘Me play’ semi-autobiographical, we take an insight in how holiday heat romance, can only end in tears.
This year at StageWrite, we have been blessed with a week of talented writers and their scripts.
We’ve been taken on a philosophical vibe of the meanings of life and the interconnectedness of community, and the brutal realities within all time frames, past, present and future.
Same time, next year? Sure, why not.
Stay free, and keep it local.