Journal of an Elder Actor, Mayday!

Its the beginning of May. The Dockers and Eagles play tomorrow. Such excitement. Well, not here. Not for that exhibition of testosterone and fulminating local bias. Tomorrow I'm on a somewhat organised feature film set. I even got a real call sheet with the correct times. So there. For once this year I am playing a “good guy” if I can so describe a Detective Inspector. It is a brave effort, and indie feature with no budget, and as such, deserves support. Anyway you cant keep an old thesp such as me away from camera. Irony abounds...if irony is the correct term for me playing an upright “Defender of the Public” this week and continuing to rehearse my part of a crazed, psychopathic multiple murderer for the next eight weeks! Maybe it is not irony just a coincidental juxtaposition of random fate. Fun anyway.

I have come out...no no no, steady on dear readers, not from a closet, or even a free standing IKEA gents wardrobe with canvas shelves, no; from a self imposed ban on all things community theatre. It was a role I have coveted for years that made me abandon my vow of anonymity . Challenging and, played with great success by the great and late Boris Karloff; now them's giant shoes of menace to fill. I'm enjoying the roller coaster ride that is essential to coarse theatre, and giving my all to the two directors. Of Irish descent, they are charming, strong willed and artistically sensible, a pleasure to work with and very, very talented. Oh and did I say as gorgeous as a pair of Dresden figurines in a Sotheby's Auction. I didnt? Well, in fact, they are.

At my age young actresses can be rather tiresome. Especially so when their enthusiasm in no way matches their actual talent. I find myself now sorting them into the category of formerly “Wow!!!! I want her sooo badddd” and now in my mature years, “ Aaaaaw, she's is so sweet and, umm, shiny and new” and the category of” “Get away from me; I think I knew your Mum/Grandmum/Auntie” and “ I dont want to know you in the same way”. Actually I adore the youngsters now. They are so shiny and honest . Eager and passionate in their field without the falseness that bedevilled my sad and war struck generation. The 'youngs' expect kind crustiness from my age of older gentleman, and, accordingly I find it impossible to default. They are all my surrogate grandchildren. We can flirt, harmlessly. It is exercise for them and a compliment to me. Bless them.

Young actors, like sons, are all difficult. Lacking the vision, intuition and experience of pain that is a young woman's lifetime they flounder, try harder, smile and, very, very, occasionally ask how to learn. They become the best actors. The ones that can see the pain in my eyes and mirror it in their own when required. Clever boys they are. They ask good questions and will hug unreservedly, which in my day was a mark of homosexual advance. On the whole I like a hug even if accompanied by the rough rasp of a male's unshaven chin.

I didn't learn to hug, as many of my generation have never learned, until my early 30 somethings. Then, I learned to hug, but used the gesture either uncomfortably or as a means to an end. Now, I hug, and I mean HUG-g-g, unreservedly. With love, compassion and genuine like of the action. I am, envious, yes, envious of the all the Gen x and y who were brought up to hug and enjoy embrace. I always feel somewhat empty after relinquishing someone from such an intimacy. As if all the loneliness of my childhood and false embraces were still haunting me, draping themselves with haggard, transparent fingers on my shoulders. I like the vibrant presence of youth.

I ruined all my sons. My ego, my over weening self, destroyed their desire to talk to me. They are brilliant, each one, diamonds, sharp, reflective and bright. I love them, do not deserve them but feel pride that they have done, and become despite me. Sorrow does not befit me. Nor regret. But I do, every day. Regret, that I cannot hug my son. Next life. Ahhh.

And now I am running my lines, audience of cat ,dog and a very disgruntled partner. I am getting the words. Mayhap , with direction, a good performance will result. We shall see.