Wednesday, 18 May 2011

Grumpy old man

Am I getting less patient as I grow older ? Less understanding of others ? Less accommodating of the downright stupidity of other people ?

I wonder this, because I feel myself getting steadily more impatient and cross with Helen, my long term friend and cowriter, coproducer, codirector for The FatCat And The Grafter. I don't want to launch into a major whinge, but think that after that sentence I had better explain myself.

On Monday's rehearsal, which I have already documented as being the hardest session so far, there were some elements that made it harder to make progress. Helen had changed some of the lines in the scene, and made some other alterations, which she had not gone through with me before I started directing the scene with the cast, she also wanted to put in some suggestions about things that her character could be doing in order for her to get to be doing what she felt the character should be doing. Again these things were not explored in detail before the session, so when mentioned required that I had to then work round or ignore them in order to direct the scene the way that I had planned it. Interruptions and delays were caused by the sometimes attention grabbing silliness she employs whenever she feels embarrassed about something. The thing that I was embarrassed about was that the scene wasn't working, and it wasn't made to work any more, or look any better with interruptions of messing about from my co-director.

We had agreed a couple of weeks ago that as we were directing most of the scenes separately, that if we wanted to make any suggestions to scenes the other was doing that we do it after the session, so that the discussion would not hold up the rehearsal or make us look like we didn't know what we were doing.

I don't want this to come across in the wrong way, it's not about Helen, bless her, it's about interruptions themselves. I feel like I spend a part of my working week trying desperately not to tell people to stop being such twats. Polishing a turd doesn't even come close. I'm not angry though. As much as sometimes the odd thing will slip out, I am amazed at how tactful I can be. Sometimes it's like it's not me at all.

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