Good Morning! This post is coming from an ill cast member. Up until I came down with Laryngitis and had to lay up taking medicine, playing Sheila in ‘A Day in the Death of Joe Egg’ was becoming very fun!
Knowing that I am a small actress in a small company starting out playing such a big a role is pretty terrifying, but the script is so perfectly put together that it is becoming easier to find Sheila in the midst of the pressure to be “funny.” I’m not a natural comedian on stage. I can write things that make people laugh and I can observe what is funny in other people but I struggle with the delivery of it myself. I get too caught up in the idea that it’s supposed to be funny!
Then my character started arguing with her husband about former sexual partners and suddenly it was hilarious. I changed nothing about my delivery. If anything I became angry rather than self aware but the comedy reared it’s head. Being, as it always is, so close to tragedy, the light was carried forward by the darkness underneath and, as we reconstructed one of the most difficult parts of any relationship - Jealousy - insecurity - breakdown - the energy in the room lifted and suddenly this vulnerable, frightened, neurotic woman at the end of her tether stood there inhabiting my body. There we were. There was a pause and a suggestion from the director that a little toning down of the language might be necessary and I, rather vehemently, found myself standing up and demanding otherwise. Peter Nichols’ brash and uncompromising use of language is the very essence of the play. It is what makes it leap out and hit it’s audience in the face.
The severe lack of understanding of and consideration for the position of the disabled and their carers in society is a continued source of contention in public and political spheres and the company chose Nichols’ work, specifically for it’s language, it’s abrasiveness, it’s ability to force audiences to confront the unpalatable truths of a hidden situation. Rather than lulling them into an escapist’s dream world, it shocks them into consciousness.
To mitigate that in any way might take away everything the work is driving at. I felt I had come alive with the language. I may not be funny but the language certainly was and my relatively serious delivery of it revealed what was... At least I hope it did... Then I got a virus and now I can’t argue with anyone! I’m looking forward to getting back in and yelling again. Like many of my fellow cast members, I am conscious of injustice, very much in favour of equality and, (though I can only speak for myself on this following point), I have rather a lot to yell about.
Lois Entwistle
*Takes medicine*