So last night, according to Joan's instructions for today's rehearsal, I wrote down all my characters list-style: their names, ages, how they speak, what they're like, and so on.
There are nine of them, you know? Nine. Unless, of course, the Poser and the Female of Posh Couple are in fact one and the same. If they are, there are eight. And one of them doesn't speak (thank God). So that means there are only seven really. So that's alright then.
Trust me, this play is fun and challenging to do. Thank God for our director though, is all I'm saying.
So anyway, I'd already spent quite a lot of time yesterday writing something quite different, and I was tired but wired by the time I hit my character analysis thing. Maybe it was the late hour I were keeping, the midnight oil I were burning, but I seemed to access some (ooo-eee-ooo) different level of intuition as I wrote my notes on my characters. I didn't stop to think or to make anything up, I just wrote down who I thought they are, down to things we will never see (or do) on-stage It's very strange; though whilst I've always wanted characters to be flesh-and-bloody (even in the case they're "only ciphers"), I've not always really set much stock by the "what did they have for breakfast" thing – it's always felt a tad too much, too contrived. And okay, I don't know what these nine/eight/seven had for breakfast – but it's only because I didn't look and I would if I did, and I do know who likes to get pissed and what they're likely to do then, and who thinks what of themselves, and what sort of hair they have really (as opposed to when they're stuck with my body because I'm channelling them, yes).
Confused? You won't be, after this week's episode of... Shakers.