Tech Week and Opening Night

I drop in on a technical rehearsal but things are running late so I have a nosey in the auditorium and take a look at the set. It’s amazing – even better than the model box promised.

The slow, tedious process of all the technical components coming together begins. As I watch the film footage, listen to the music, see the lights I begin to feel dizzy and have to pack up and go home. Even though I’ve made a rapid recovery from the shingles, I now discover that I’ve got a 24hour virus!
Something is telling me to stay away – so I do so until the opening night.

My family and I have a Fred-inspired hotpot and spotted dick in the Octagon restaurant prior to the show. I need a couple of glasses of wine to see me into the auditorium. I tell my kids it feels like the day I got married. A sense of disbelief that this day, so long anticipated, has finally arrived. On the way to our seats, I bump into David Thacker who tells me he’s changed a some things over the last few days. Should he tell me what? No!

And suddenly, after over two years since the conception and a whole year since the original workshop, it’s all happening - the show is up and running in front of a packed auditorium. People are laughing and there’s a sense of inevitability as the performance moves along at a rapid pace. By the time the interval arrives I am ready for another glass of wine. In the second half I managed to stop myself from shouting out when a couple of lines are missed. Before I know it people around me are crying and the show ends with the audience applauding enthusiastically. Some are on their feet and whistling.

I text David when I get home that night to say that I believe it all now!
He replies saying how much he’s enjoyed the journey. So have I - but I don’t want it to end!

Third Week of Rehearsals

A frustrating time for me because I am not able to go along daily to see how the production is progressing.

I am in touch by email, text and phone and all seems to be going fine. In any case, I have to accept that my job is pretty much done and it is time to let go.

By Thursday evening I am well enough to meet with Andy Smith, the sound designer at the Octagon, and we spend an enjoyable hour or so sorting out the music that will accompany the film footage between the scenes.

On Saturday morning I drop-in on a run-through, described by David as ‘an adventure’. It is strange to see the play up and running after a week and a half away from rehearsals. There is a greater depth to a number of the performances and I find myself laughing out loud several times as well as having a lump in my throat in the final scene. Although there is still some work to be done, the play itself seems to be standing up pretty well.

Second Week of Rehearsals

The week starts off badly because, unfortunately, Michelle has had to go back to London due to a family crisis and is therefore unable to be at rehearsal on the Monday.

The rest of the company have a discussion about acting, which John McArdle describes as ‘refreshing’. The emphasis is on acting ‘in the moment’ which is all about being so secure with the lines and the character that the actor responds to each line fed to him as though he’d just heard it for the first time.

Some of the actors are feeling anxious at the sight of a new script I’ve produced over the weekend, because they've already started learning the lines. About eight pages have been shaved off the previous draft in the pursuit of ‘leanness’.

I’m asked to read in for Michelle on the first day as the script is intensely scutinised once more, with the actors invited to comment on the changes. David talks about the collaborative process and his role as inspirational leader.



The fight-director, Terry King, (King of Combat according to the actors) comes to advise on a slap and a minor scuffle that feature in the play.









In the 'Circle of Trust’ on Tuesday there’s a rapid learning of lines, where the rule is if you make a mistake, you go back to the beginning!

A chunk of Wednesday morning is spent planning the filming at the Heritage Centre, which we need to produce footage that can be cut in with achive footage for the show. We gain an insight into David the TV/film director.

In the absence of the students who will play the camera crew in the play itself, David assumes the role of extremely irritating PA and succeeds in upstaging everybody.

I go off at lunchtime to have a rash checked out at the medical centre and am diagnosed with shingles. I pack up in a panic and head off home, upset and angry. It feels like I’ve been dealt a cruel blow and that my involvement with the show has been abruptly curtailed.

Week One of Rehearsals

Memorable moments include . . .

David Thackers’ pep talk on the first morning about everyone aiming to achieve his/her PB (Personal Best)

A Meet and Greet session where we are all introduced around the circle and I discover later that I have my cardigan on inside out.

Michelle Collins handing round the jelly babies.

Thrills up my spine as the actors read the first scene – it works!

Lots of laughter in the rehearsal room at the first read-through.

A few weary tears shed at the end of day two when it becomes obvious that the play is too long.

Chatting with Kenneth Alan Taylor (who is in The Price) in the foyer about his time as a panto dame in Oldham.

Football banter around the table first thing in the mornings.

Colin Connor’s almost perfect Fred Dibnah voice.

The ASM’s dad showing Huw Higginson how to do magic tricks.

Working long days and having production and script meetings at lunch-times and after the actors have gone home.

The three actors playing ‘Dad’s Army (Fred’s mates) christening themselves, ‘The Three MustGetBeers’ and other members of the cast at various times calling them ‘the three witches’, ‘the three stooges’, ‘the tin man, the lion and the scarecrow’ .

Health bars I’d made for the cast (Rabbit Bars according to Huw) somehow ending up on the set!

David prepares me for mixed reaction to the play and quotes William Blake -
‘The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way’.

Having loads of rewrites to do over the weekend - pruning an already pruned play.

A new Fred, film-footage and fear

After a great deal of searching, we find a new Fred. Thank goodness!
Colin Connor is eager to research his role thoroughly so I spend some of this week helping him to get up to speed.

I also spend a morning with film-maker, Nick Wilding, going through his thousands of hours of Fred footage to find additional clips of film for the show.

The fifth draft of the script (fifth draft since the workshop that is - can it be a whole year ago?), is printed, bound and sent out to the actors.

This morning I meet with David Thacker and Joe Stathers-Tracey, who is in charge of projection. The meeting about film-footage is a difficult one but ends well in that David proposes an 'arty' take on the film content. The prospect of the footage fusing with the play, rather than being rolled out as documentary gluing the scenes together, becomes an exciting prospect.

Tonight I attend the Press/Guest Night of The Price at the Octagon and, as well as enjoying the superb production, am left wondering how the hell my play can follow the genius that is Arthur Miller.

Reality kicks in and I know that over the weekend I have to prepare properly for rehearsals which begin on Monday. Healthy food has to be bought, clothes have to be got ready, fear has to be allayed.

The White Card Meeting and Bleak News

The designer for the show, James Cotterill, has come up from London with the white card model of the set. We meet at the Octagon with David Thacker and Production Manager, Olly Seviour, to discuss the design before the whole production team files into the room. There's about a dozen people ranging from carpenter to sound engineer and it's quite daunting to explain the concept of the play to them. At the same time, it's exciting to think that between them all they will realise the technical and visual side of the show.



David T has a quiet word with me to explain that the actor playing Fred has had to withdraw from the production due to ill-health. It's bleak news indeed, especially at this stage in the proceedings. The search is on for another Fred . . .

Fred Footage

I go over to Leeds to meet up with film-maker David Hall and his editor, Pascale. We spend a happy afternoon in the editing suite, sifting through many miles of footage that David has shot of Fred over the years. We are searching for specific moments of film and iconic images that will form part of the production, anchoring the story in the real-world and gluing the scenes of the play together.

Workshop Week

Five amazing days with the whole cast and director in the Lab at the Octagon -

DAY 1
It's great to see all the cast assembled for the first time. They sit around the table taking turns to read through the script word by word, line by line and not in the characters that they will play in the production. David instructs me not to say anything. In fact I am to be treated as though I am not in the room. This is to enable the cast to comment freely and to allow me to hear the script afresh. It has to stand on its own two feet without the writer defending it. It does stands up pretty well but I spot some yawning gaps and a few places where the dialogue is over-written.

DAY 2
More of the same. I find it incredibly difficult to keep quiet but realise what an invaluable process this is, allowing the script to be scutinised in every detail almost as if it were an A Level text.
A number of key questions are raised and several inconsistencies come to light. Towards the end of the day I am allowed to speak and answer some of the major queries the actors have about their characters. I am particularly concerned that Huw Higginson is not happy about how his two roles merge in the current version of the script.

DAY 3
A trip for us all to Fred's garden in Radcliffe Road during the morning. A couple of TV crews follow us around and John Branwell and Michelle Collins appear on the local evening news talking about the play. It's great pre-publicity for the show. In the afternoon the script is subjected to a radical cutting/editing operation where scenes are sliced, pruned and welded back together again. David reckons we need to lose about 20 pages of script. I find this really hard because some of my favourite scenes and in my opinion, some of the best lines in the play, get the chop.



DAY 4
The Lab is transformed into the Octagon stage and we work with a substitute set made up of chairs and tables to get the feel of the space and how we might use it within the actual production. It becomes obvious that the set has to almost replicate Fred's actual garden and the work the men do there has to be as authentic as possible. There is even talk of using a real steam engine! I learn to become more objective about the script and even suggest some cuts myself.

I re-jig the script overnight and present the new draft the following morning.

DAY 5
Poor Huw Higginson falls ill during rehearsals and is taken off to hospital for observation. If you are reading this Huw, you'll be pleased to know that in your absence most of the nagging questions you had about your (dual) role have been ironed out! Sheila Dibnah joins us for the whole day and sees the re-vamped script on it's feet. As well as offering some inside knowledge, she also performs an improv with John McArdle. Sheila is very moved by the new version of the play and is not the only one in tears at the end!



As a result of this intensive week the script is quite a bit thinner, I know that its time-line needs a radical re-think and it has become abundantly clear that the design element and the work element of the play have to be carefully co-ordinated and fed into the script.

I've found this part of the process illuminating, inspiring and exhausting.
Time for a rest over Christmas before another draft of the script is due in the New Year.

Intensive Script Development

I am having the best creative time of my entire life as David and I spend a couple of full days at the Octagon bouncing around ideas for the workshop draft of the script.

He floats a wild idea that I take up and run with. It looks like it will be feasible for the same actor to play Mr TV and Isambard Kingdom Brunel after all because we have discovered artistic connections between them. But if we are to forge stronger links in Fred's mind about these two characters, there is some restructuring of the play to be done.

During these development sessions David frequently refers to other plays and playwrights and obviously wants me to aim for the highest possible standards.
It's thrilling to hear him talk of his work with Arthur Miller, particularly about developing Millers' play 'Broken Glass'. I'm not sure that me having the same initials cuts it really!

We have a couple of prolonged discussions about stage directions and the slash(/) used to indicate overlapping dialogue but we never come close to anything that can be described as a disagreement and seem to be very much on the same wavelength.

I come away with masses of notes in my script, a head buzzing with ideas, a heart full of gratitude and optimism.

David says we are 'cooking on gas'.

Lunch at the Royal Court

David and I attend a lovely, informal lunch at the Royal Court where he is presented with his WGGB new writing encouragement award. We are amongst a select few of writers and directors, including one of my all time favourite playwrights, Timberlake Wertenbaker. She makes a great speech about writers needing a home and about new writing not necessarily being young writing. She also wishes me good luck as she and her director, Purni Morell, dash away back to rehearsal at the National studio.

As the wine flows freely we enjoy the food and the company but, unfortunately, we too have to make a hasty exit before the dessert because we are auditioning actors for the Fred play across the other side of London. David, who obviously knows the city well, says it will be quicker by tube so I find myself tagging after him, tottering on high heels, which I haven't had chance to change, trying not to lose him in the crowd as we change trains several times in the underground.

More casting

I am invited to a meeting with David, administrator Vicky Entwistle and freelance casting director, Kay Magson, to discuss the casting of the other four parts in the play now that the two main roles are sorted.

At the beginning of the meeting David looks at me and smiles and says 'Isn't this exciting!' Well, yes, and I'm still continuing to pinch myself!

Kay has done her homework thoroughly and produces mugshots of actors who might be worth considering.Her knowledge of them is pretty extensive.

Between us we come up with a long list of possible actors whose availability Vicky is going to check. At that point we'll discuss the short-list.

A couple of days later I get an early morning text from David saying how come I had only one woman in the cast and wouldn't it alter the dynamic if I added another female character? It certainly would. It would throw everything up in the air!

David wins Writers' Guild Award

I've been keeping it quiet, just in case he didn't win but he has won!

Some time back I nominated David Thacker for a Writers' Guild award for encouraging new writing (because he's been so fantastic in the development of the Fred play) and now the guild have got in touch to say that David (and I) are invited to the Royal Court in London for an awards luncheon in November.
Oooh! What to wear?

Casting news

At last I am able to tell people something I've known for a while now.
The contract is signed and Ex-Eastenders star, Michelle Collins, is to play Fred's wife in the play. It's a terrific coup for the Octagon and for The Demolition Man too.
Sheila Dibnah herself texts me when she hears the news -
'That is TOTALLY FANTASTIC! Wow!'
She's a tad pleased, then.

Total nightmare

During the early hours of the morning I have a anxiety dream - not about the writing of the play but about the production.

We are about half way through the run and the actor playing Fred is indisposed. As the only person who knows all the words, I am the automatic choice to stand-in! Knowing the lines is one thing, knowing when to come on stage is entirely another.

The Octagon has somehow transformed into a promenade space where there are numerous possiblities as to where the next scene might take place. I am confused because I cannot even wait in the wings listening for my cue to enter.

I spend the first half in the dressing room on my own in a complete panic. However, it turns out that I am not required to appear at all. 'This can't be right'. 'What is the writer thinking of not to include the main character before the interval?'

On top of all this, I know I look ridiculous in the costume and I have lost the flat cap in amongst the chaos of the dressing room. How the hell am I supposed to play the part of Fred without wearing his ubiquitous flat cap?

Done but not dusted

I lock myself away to polish up the script bearing in mind David's comments.
I also add a new scene and re-vamp the final sequence entirely.

After I have submitted the new draft on the agreed deadline (phew!), I look around the office where I work. It's a tip. So is the rest of the house.

As I get busy with the duster and hoover, I have a quiet sense of satisfaction that everything play-wise is on schedule.

Guilty as charged

We have a final session on Act Two before I go away and work on the next draft. David, in his totally charming manner, accuses me of -

1) Including too many expletives.

2) Sometimes repeating myself.
(Does he mean I tend to duplicate what I've already said?)

3) Splitting an infinite in a stage direction.

I ask you!

In a bit of a lather

David and I have several meetings on the script in the space of few weeks. (Rehearsals for the autumn season start soon so he is trying to build in as many sessions for developing the play as he can before he gets ultra-busy.)

We finish the detailed examination of Act One and I complete the rewrite. David is inspirational. His great gift is that he knows instinctively what works and what doesn’t work theatrically. He is also generous, kind and full of good humour.

Elizabeth Newman is often busy with other things but pops into our meetings occasionally, sometimes bringing tea and treats, sometimes bringing good ideas to the table. At one point she provides great insight into a particularly sticky scene. Thanks, Lizzie!

I am glad when we move onto Act Two as the jokes in Act One are beginning to wear a bit thin on me. However, I’m greatly encouraged by David’s comments about the script as a whole. He thinks the play is turning into a much more profound piece now. Ooh, good.

There is some exciting news over who might play the part of Sheila Dibnah, but I’m not at liberty to say anything until the deal has been struck!

Bolt-ons

Sheila Dibnah, Fred's widow and film-maker, Nick Wilding, come to the Octagon for a meeting with David Thacker and myself to discuss how the play is progressing.

We also throw ideas around about the potential additional Fred-related events that could be mounted in the lead-up to, or during the run of, The Demolition Man. Sheila and Nick have a "Fred Dibnah Night" that they present together and Nick has miles of footage of Fred that has never been seen in public, some of which could be included in the production.

Jon Gilchrist, Head of Marketing, pops into the meeting and seems excited by the number of possible 'Bolt-ons' that could be part of the 'Fred Fest'. Leslie Etherington also drops by to ask Sheila about Fred's favourite foods so that these can be incorporated into the Octagon restaurant's menu for pre-show dining.

All very exciting.

Writers' Spiral

I have a writing weekend in which not much actual writing gets done. I never experience writers’ block as such but suffer from something I call ‘writers’ spiral’, where I feel to be stuck on a particular idea and end up going round with it in my head in ever-decreasing circles.

It helps to get up from the desk and do other things. I have to remind myself that I’m just as likely to have a workable creative idea whilst pushing the supermarket trolley or washing the kitchen floor as I am sitting in front of the computer screen, staring out of the window.

A pepper-pot of a play

Lizzie is otherwise engaged today so just David and I meet to discuss my rewrites from last week. Again we read the script out loud and sometimes I play Fred and sometimes I play Sheila Dibnah. David multi-tasks as director/dramaturg and actor - but somehow never gets around to playing Sheila!

I am very pleased that David is very pleased with how the play is developing. He is a man for detail, which I really appreciate and his meticulous approach is helping me to spot the holes in the script, of which there are many more than I thought.

One of the big holes I identified previously in Act One I've now managed to fill, at the same time introducing a whole new strand in the script - about the importance of hands. But as we go through this draft line-by-line I realise it is a pepper-pot of a play. I determine to fill the minutest of holes.

Out of the blue, I come up with an idea for a whole new scene to replace one I've never been totally sold on. This is a breakthrough because the scene I am proposing to ditch is the only interior scene left. David is delighted, I guess, because it has been his wish all along to set the whole play in Fred's garden.

As we pack up at the end of the afternoon (we are about half way through reading the script now) David tells me I've written a love story - a love story between an unlikely couple - and not just a play about a famous son of Bolton.