Jigsaw

The finalised contract arrives in the post and it all feels very much of a reality now. I sign on the dotted line and await the first cheque.

I am working towards the deadline David has given me for Draft 1, which is now 7th June and revising quite a bit of the play, particularly the sections that include the peripheral characters. The play is in bits. This is always a scary time when I start to play around with the structure, add extra scenes and cut with a vengeance. Will it ever all fit back together again?

Planning ahead

A meeting with David Thacker and Lizzie Newman (who will act as assistant director on the play). We plan a timetable for the development of The Demolition Man, which is really helpful as it sets out over the course of the year all the deadlines I need to meet for various drafts. We tie these dates into the contract and David has arranged for Leslie Etherington, Administrator, to pop in and discuss amends. Also the other Octagon Leslie – Stage Manager - drops into the meeting to timetable a workshop week with actors in the lab and there is also discussion about having a designer working on the project early in the process.

David, Lizzie and I then discuss casting possibilities and how the play is progressing. I am pleased to find that some of their post-workshop thoughts concur with mine. Also I manage to persuade David that if the play is to be set totally in the garden, Fred needs a private space – i.e. his shed.

Our next meeting in May will continue along these lines but we will actually meet at Fred’s garden in Radcliffe Road (‘over fish and chips’ according to David but 2pm on a Saturday afternoon strikes me as an odd time to eat fish and chips!)

The small-print

A friend helps me go through the draft contract with a fine toothcomb. In the absence of an agent (who would take 10% of the total fee - so no way, Jose!) I feel the need for an extra pairs of eyes. The contract is packed full of legal jargon (heretofores and therins etc) and we attempt to unpick it on my friend’s kitchen table over a couple of cups of coffee.

Getting known

I am meeting a friend for lunch at the Octagon café and bump into John Blackmore, CEO. At first he is unsure who I am then when I start to introduce myself he says ‘Oh yes! The Demolition Man.’ A few minutes later I am equally impressed by a young woman I speak to behind the box office because she knows the name of my play and that it is being premiered next season.

Good communication in the building, obviously.

Publicity proof

The Octagon marketing department email me the proof of The Demolition Man publicity. Disappointingly they have decided not to use the photo I recommended of Fred looking like Isambard Kingdom Brunel. However the publicity does look really good. Perhaps a little dark, perhaps making the play look more like a tragedy than I had envisaged – but still really good. I am pleased to see that the main image is counter-acted further on in the brochure by a picture of Fred and Sheila on their wedding day in a silly pose in front of the steam roller. Great.

Research in Appleby

I head off in glorious sunshine to the beautiful Appleby-in-Westmorland in Cumbria where I have an appointment with TV producer, David Hall. Incredibly he made over fifty films with Fred. He didn’t particularly like my portrayal of him as Mr TV in the workshop, so he wants to talk to me about his relationship with Fred. Also he has some very useful inside information on ‘Dad’s Army’.

I come away from Appleby after four hours, my head filled with new ideas. I also have a copy of David’s book. Fred: the definitive biography and a couple of DVD’s that he kindly gives me.