Last night I did a count of the number of playtexts sitting on my bookshelf. The number is around 70, with another 3 on my Kindle and I’ve read every single one (at the expense of my various novels). For comparison, I only have two screenplays and one of those was a gift.
How has this happened? I wasn’t event a proper theatre go-er til two years ago. Now I go far, far more than I do to the cinema. Why is that? There have been plenty of movies that’ve interested me, yet I’ve not gotten around to them. Theatre, conversely, I some how manage to make all sorts of time for. I think I actually know more people who want to see plays with me now than I do cinema fiends. The back end of this year should rebalance this slightly, thanks to a host of strong Oscar films popping up though if I can find somewhere showing the 70mm print of The Master, I’ll be happy with that. I have truly fallen in love with theatre though, no denying that. Not because it’s more a writer’s medium than film, I don’t reckon, since I’m still not comfortable with the level of regard you’re given. More probably it’s because of its tangibility and community. You can go see a play and maybe have a drink with the actors afterwards, and go to talk to the playwright. That’s more likely at The White Bear than at The National, but it’s all possible. It’s also a very dynamic medium – if something’s not working, you can fix it, whereas with film you only really get the one shot, time and money sucking director’s cuts not withstanding.
Tonight I’m off to see Hightide’s Mudlarks again at the Bush tonight, followed by a Q+A and a Writer’s Group with Ally and Kathryn. Looking forward to both – the community clearly keeps me sane. Here’s a song for your Tuesday afternoon.