It has been a while since I last posted a blog. Coincidentally, it's been a while since I've done anything theatrical. Still, as it is I haven't really much to mention today, apart from an audition for Hamlet. The classic Shakespearean play, and something I have long desired to do since I started developing a love for Shakespeare back in the eighties.

Sadly, I feel my chance to play the ultimate role is past me, which is one dream I may just have to let go of. Sad though that may be, there are other roles that are just as challenging, if not more so. Keeping your options open and expectations low  (while not diminishing your enthusiasm or ambition) may not always give you want you want, but does tend to give you what you need.

So today I went and auditioned for the show. How I did is something I try not to think too much about. Too many times I find myself being hyper-critical of my performance. This only got worse after a few times directing shows, so now I prefer to withdraw from judging at all. Mind you, as easy as that is to say, when it comes to Hamlet, it is hard not to get hopeful, expectant, excited and a little judgmental.

I find that I am having to remind myself that the quality of my performance, technically, is only one of many aspects to consider. If I was absolutely dreadful, then it counts for everything. If I was good to great, then I have to factor in what the director is looking for, how many others are auditioning, how old they may be, or the general appearance of the cast that forms in the director's mind. Let's face it, it may simply come down to that fact that I was taller (or not) than some other guy and therefor had more of the look (or not) that the director was looking for.

So many of this things are beyond my control. Nothing I could do will change them necessarily. It may be simple chance (or luck if you prefer) that lands me a role, or not. Telling myself this usually works, except when it comes to Hamlet...

Do I think I will be offered a part? Considering the often poor turn out of men in Perth Local theatre, more than likely I will. Will I be offered a role I would prefer? Possibly not. Is that a reflection on me? Marginally if anything. And so the mantra goes.

If you are auditioning (or have just done so) for this or any other show, let me just say Chookas to you all. May you get the role you want, and if not, the role you need.

It was been some weeks since the closing night of Twelfth Night and I recently was sent two "reviews" for the show. I use quotations because these are rather special "reviews," in that they have been written by adjudicators for a local Community and Independent Theatre Awards ceremony called the Robert Finley Awards, which is basically the Perth Non-professional version of the Tony Awards.

These two reviews were actually rather pleasing to read. Being somewhat brief (a necessity due to the need not to give away anything too early) they were, on the whole, very appreciative of the two separate performances seen by the judges. The only critical aspects were a couple of directional choices which I therefore am happy to take completely on me. My cast were brilliant and it was wonderful to see no negative concerns regarding any of them.

I set out with a specific goal in mind, to demonstrate that Twelfth Night was a wonderful comedy, not a melodrama as it is so often portrayed. In that, I believe we were entirely successful. The number of genuine and unsought for remarks that patrons did not realise that the play was that funny and fast paced was incredible. This too was reflected in the reports from the two adjudicators.

Orsino, the character upon which much of my direction choice was made, is frequently portrayed as a melancholic romantic type whom is more love-sick than head-over-heels in lust, yet this character opens the play. His first scene, and most famous speech, "If music be the food of love" are the first thing that audiences see. I see only two ways to play this; either overly dramatic to the point of drama queen, or as a passionate plea to the mysterious gods of love. I went more for the latter having come from a pub where he has been drowning his frustrations with one too many jugs of ale.

By injecting a high level of energy and pace to this opening scene, it set a bar for the rest of the cast to follow, and follow they did. The pace was such that we were able to do the entire script without cutting a single word, officially. Mind you, through a little improvisation and slips, the occasional word may have been lost.

That said, Twelfth Night is not without more serious or poignant moments, such as the heated argument between Orsino and Viola, the incarceration and release of Malvolio and the exchange of heated words between Orsino, Viola and Olivia at the plays end. There is even one instance when the fool of the play, Feste, comes down from his silly antics and wordplay, to berate Malvolio for his thoughtlessness and nasty comments.

Interestingly enough, the most memorable character of the play is, at first meeting, the most annoying. Malvolio, Olivia's steward, starts off being obnoxious, uptight and very condescending. We are not meant to like him. So when he is then given his "just deserts" and locked in a dungeon as a madman, we are then brought to feel sorry for him at the plays end when all that has been done is revealed to him. People have often made the comment to me that they would like to see him have a happy ending. I feel that this would ruin his importance in the play. We are meant to hate him then long for him. Through his journey, he wins our heart and holds it. If he were then to have a happy ending, he would no longer need our love and care.

So why was he written this way? We can only guess, and my guess was to look in to ourselves and see the hypocrisy of human nature. How easy is for a person to put on a façade of arrogance in order to protect themselves from the barbs of the world. How easy it is for that world to fall away when dreams and hopes seems but a small step away. How deep the wound is when, having opened ourselves to the possibility of hope, to then have that hope ripped away from us.

Twelfth Night is a wonderful examination at the strangeness and vulnerability of people. I am glad we were able to play successfully to that message.