Theatreroyalwinchester's Blog

Instalment Three – In which my winter roses finally bloom for all to see.

AN ACTOR – ME!?

I had forgot, in my haste to get a roof over my head, that I had agreed to be in the Theatre Royals little play. Well I say little play, but it turns out that they are mounting a musical extravaganza, complete with tornados, firecrackers and dancing monkeys.

I had assumed I was to play a minor role. A cough here, a spit there and a good amount of time enjoying a herbal soak in the spa-bath back in my dressing room. It seems I was wrong.

Some bearded man, caller ‘The Director‘, shoved a script at me on my first visit to the theatre and told me to get learning all the Lion’s lines. He then spent the rest of the day standing on a chair shouting instructions at me and all the other performers. Honestly, he was a right Napoleon, all he needed was a horse and a three cornered hat!

When we were eventually allowed a tea break I finally got to introduce myself to the other actors. It turned out that they were all in the same boat as me. All of us had been recruited after an encounter first with that tipsy Glinda and then with Mrs. High-Karate and her Ninja Workout Office.

Two of the cast (a Scarecrow and a Tin Man) looked very familiar. It was only when the Scarecrow put his script into a Eric Bana Butch Pink Man-Bag that I realized they were both from my neck of the woods. Honestly, it is a small world.

The Scarecrow is a very funny chap really. I can’t think why I have been so frightened of him back at home. He is right clumsy and dead forgetful and always tells the silliest jokes. He must have a massive stock of Christmas crackers in his room where he gets his material from.

The Tin Man is a big soppy at heart but we have to keep an eye on him otherwise he will start weeping whenever anyone starts singing a sad song and then he seizes up and it takes all the theatre’s stagehands to get him lubricated and moving again. When you are made of tin, rust is the enemy it seems. Like baldness for us Lions, it is to be avoided at all costs.

The Leading Lady of the play is called Dorothy. She is very pretty and charming but speaks in a very peculiar accent – she is from somewhere called Kansas. She is also very fond of dancing. Nothing stops her from grabbing a partner and having a good hoe-down in the rehearsal room. I’ve even caught her teaching the Scarecrow and the Gate Keeper the electric boogaloo while waiting to go onstage and sing. She would be a 100% cert to win Strictly Come Dancing as I am sure she could rumba with anyone.

We also have two Witches in the show. That Glinda is one of them. She keeps on appearing out of a great big puff of smoke whenever she wants our attention. I have yet to find where she hides her booze stash backstage but I know it must be somewhere as she spends a lot of time hanging around with the stagehands and some of them have quite obviously become over familiar with strong spirits. The Stage Manageress is a case in point. Yesterday she forgot that the tannoy was still on and I distinctly heard her say that white wine was like a soft drink to her. That explains why she never moves from that stool in the corner.

The other Witch is completely different to Glinda. She wears nothing but black, is as green as a Leprechaun’s waistcoat and is a self-confessed heavy metal, health food junkie. She never drinks, eats nothing but fresh fruit and yoghurt and whenever she can plays the lead guitar part to Stairway to Heaven on her broom. Seeing is believing, I can tell you. I have never seen a woman’s fingers move so fast.

I spend most of the play hiding behind the other performers as it is a pretty terrifying story and I keep on getting involved in some of the more frightening bits. At one point the stage is filled with hundreds of dancers while the Gate Keeper is chanting some strange incantation in a very ‘Club Singer’ manner (Is it me or does he have a look of Engelbert Humperdinck’s Great Uncle?) He then performs a number of very nifty and highly dangerous dance moves at lightening speed. Talk about fearless, high wire acts have nothing on that Gate Keeper.

Anyway, I can’t write much more as I am waiting in my broom cupboard of a dressing room (no room for a soap dish, dear, let alone a spa-bath) for the start of the show. I have just had Napoleon and his troops in giving me notes. Once they had got him up on his chair he was actually quite nice to me. I just have to let the Natural Lion in me, out apparently, and all will be well. Easy for him to say as he is not the one with an aggravated nervous condition brought on by over-exposure to lights, crowds and loud noises.

There is only one thing for it – I am just going to have to be BRAVE.

Blimey, I hope I can manage it.

So Dear Diary, I will sign off here.

Keep everything crossed and think of me.

Lots of Love

Lion xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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