"A Gringo's Journey" / "Nine Suitcases"

Two monologues – or, more precisely, duets between actor and musician. Both slice-of-life narratives, adapted by David Prince; both exploring the limits of human endurance. Otherwise, there were few similarities between these plays, presented together under the auspices of the Welsh Fargo Stage Company, at Chapter, Cardiff. First up was Mandan Productions’ “A Gringo’s Journey” (from a book by Cris Osborn), in which Alex Harries plays a backpacker who decides, on impulse, to cycle from Colorado to the southern tip of  South America (via Canada, for reasons which weren’t explained). Director Zoe Davies took full advantage of the mobility inherent in the story to create an entertainingly physical spectacle; Harries was an effortlessly engaging hero; and the live, onomatopoeic score, provided by Matt Salisbury (on percussion and occasional banjo) was highly sympathetic and effective. The tale descends into darkness as the traveller is stuck by debilitating illness along the way, but the conclusion (perhaps a few minutes too slow in coming) is an upbeat one, and the general tone affirms faith in humanity. Which is in deliberately stark contract to the second piece, Mercury Theatre Wales’ “Nine Suitcases”, directed by Lynn Hunter, adapted from Bela Zsolt’s memoir of a life in limbo - in a hospital in a Hungarian ghetto, where a Jewish writer awaits deportation to Auschwitz. The title refers to the symbols of the affluence previously enjoyed by the already jaded protagonist, compellingly played by Prince himself, whose world-weary demeanour seemed designed to undercut assumed audience over-familiarity with the general context. The eerie, folk-inflected live score (with pre-recorded elements), provided by Bethan Morgan (on violin and bodhran) was profoundly evocative (although on occasion it did drown out the words); the overall experience bracingly traumatic. A delicately balanced, dramatically satisfying double bill.

"The Artist"

Michael Hazanavicius’ “The Artist” is pretty much a non-stop sequence of witty, magical moments; an homage to, rather than a pastiche of vintage cinematic story-telling. With a narrative shamelessly borrowed from “Singing In The Rain” and “A Star In Born”, it is (mostly) without dialogue, but far from silent; the sound design is ingenious, and the score, by Ludovic Bource (and others) is wonderfully evocative. Jean Dujardin and Berenice Bejo as the falling and rising stars of old Hollywood are effortlessly charming, and John Goodman’s gift for visual comedy is well exploited; although Penelope Anne Miller, as the brittle wife of Dujardin’s character, is sadly under-used. The film surely deserves all the awards coming to it, although it falls short of true greatness because it doesn’t plumb the emotional depths of the classics of the vintage era, such as Chaplin’s “The Kid” and “City Lights”. It wears its cleverness in a highly entertaining manner, though – and is almost worth seeing for Uggie the dog alone.

This is “26 Beers” - my own attempt at “silent” filmmaking.

"The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo"

The first thing to say is that “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo” is an excellent film – beautifully executed and constantly gripping. I’ve neither read Stieg Larsson’s novel, nor seen Niels Arden Oplev’s 2009 Swedish-language adaptation, but this being a gruesome, cerebral crime tale, David Fincher’s coldly forensic directorial eye is a perfect fit (cf. the wonderful “Se7en”, not to mention “Zodiac”); and screenwriter Steven Zaillian seems to have ordered the (by all accounts, somewhat confusing) narrative elements into a satisfyingly coherent whole. And yes, everyone speaks in slightly distracting, vaguely embarrassed Scandinavian accents, but this is necessary for consistency, given that the cast is drawn from several continents (even ex-“Neighbours” star Alan Dale turns up, adding to his ridiculously impressive list of credits). My main problem, however, is Daniel Craig – an authoritative screen presence, of course, but apparently unable to portray vulnerability, which is essential if one is to feel that journalist/investigator Mikael Blomqvist is ever in emotional turmoil or real physical danger. On the plus side, this means that the film’s beating heart is the excellent Rooney Mara as the wounded geek-girl Lisbeth Salander, who touchingly embodies Larsson’s thesis examining the link between long-entrenched power-structures and the institutionalised abuse of women, while simultaneously being as much of a male fantasy as Lara Croft. The Swedish adaptations of the rest of the Millennium trilogy have been less well received than the original; provided that Fincher remains at the helm, Hollywood may be actually in the process of serving the author well.

2011 (But mostly I watched telly)

To summarise for 2011:

Three episodes of “Tati’s Hotel” for CITV.

Short film written: “The Key”

Short films written and directed:

“Proverb”

“King Horse”

Short “found footage” films made:

“The Great Longing”

“Fill For Me A Brimming Bowl”

Two pieces of long fiction now available for Kindle:

“Yer Blues”

“Oliviaville”

Plus a play for Frapetsus in 2012, if all goes well.

Free Folk

Another Welsh premiere of a play by Welsh playwright Gary Owen - this time brought to us as an “On The Edge” rehearsed reading from the Welsh Fargo Stage Company at Chapter, Cardiff. This was “Free Folk”, originally commissioned and toured by the Forest Forge Theatre Company in 2010 - a tightly plotted comedy drama whose action pivots around a rain-drenched incident of rustic petty crime which escalates into the kind of hostage situation in which most of the victims don’t realise they’re being held hostage. It’s instigated by wide-boy Shaun (Gary Knowles, clearly enjoying having the most complex characterisation to play with) who, with his unwilling accomplice, the justifiably nervy incomer Karen (Nikki Warwick), finds himself trapped in the home of the elderly, set-in-her-ways Pearl (Liz Edney); they’re later joined by petulant teen couple Tim and Hannah (recent graduates Simon Mullins and Stephanie Garratt). The direction by Elise Davison was cleverly fluent, the actors encouraged to abandon their scripts to enhance some of the more comic moments; although the decision to ask them to add their own sound effects (e.g. for the opening and closing of car doors) prompted audience giggles, which I found distracting. The author being fond of a monologue, the characters are all given room within the narrative to elucidate their back-stories, such that the moments of self-discovery on which they end are generally satisfying, in an essentially optimistic piece which reflects highly entertainingly on issues of home, belonging, and the concept of the rural idyll.

Word 4 Word / Kindle

Lured by the prospect of an evening’s free entertainment, I wandered down to Cardiff’s Ten Feet Tall, to check out Word 4 Word – a spoken-word open-mic night, presented under the auspices of National Theatre Wales. Wittily hosted by Mark Blayney Stuart, it involved a dozen performers, some of them making their live debuts, clambering onto the stage to bare their souls, having been given the broad theme of “Space” and a time limit of five minutes (not always rigidly enforced). Pretty enjoyable, all in all – a broad range of participants and styles; mostly poetry, some fiction extracts, some rambling. At first it looked as though it was going to conform to gender stereotypes – men being playful, women more nakedly emotional; but the picture grew more complex as the night drew on. Personal highlights for me were the poems about loss by Jill Berrett, Hassan’s subtle musings, and Jack Pascoe’s punk rock lament. There was a competitive element, the main official prize being to headline the next event (the audience prize being an old Doctor Who Annual), but I guess that for most participants the prize was the experience itself. The December headliner was nonagenarian Betty Lane, who charmed all present with her poignant verse, not to mention her account of a close encounter with Dylan Thomas. And the whole thing was all the more entertaining for the knowledge that I’m too cowardly and inarticulate ever to attempt such a thing myself.

In other news, I’ve managed to make my novel “Yer Blues” available as an e-book in Amazon’s  Kindle store – a bargain at £1.45. Not to mention my novella “Oliviaville”, for even less. Irresistible.

Frapetsus, etc

An unusually writerly few days.

Firstly, there was the kind invitation by Tim Rhys and Richard Gwyn to spend a day as a Visiting Writer, on Cardiff University’s postgraduate Creative Writing course. Thus, I showed the students (all female, interestingly) one of my episodes of “Tati’s Hotel”, and discussed the process of going from outline to final draft; set up an exercise in which they had to devise a TV series, giving only a list of hypothetically available actors as a starting-point; and made some (doubtless ill-informed) contributions to the workshop in which they appraised extracts of one another’s work. In the evening, there was an open-mic session at the Promised Land pub-restaurant – more readings, in a slightly more public forum. Very enjoyable, and an encouraging first experience of Creative Writing in academia.

Then, having entered my play “Hunkydory” in Frapetsus Theatre Company’s inaugural “Writer’s Block” play competition (taking place in the Arts Wing of Swansea’s Grand Theatre), I actually won, against stiff opposition in the final (from Rebecca Hill, Anna Poole and Eifion Jenkins). Delighted, but surprised, given the commercial slant of the contest; not that my piece is avant-garde in any way, simply a bit “niche”, its main protagonists being former punk musicians in their fifties. Still, if all goes well, there’ll be a production in 2012, and the script will be published by Stagescripts Ltd. Which will be nice.