Biography
A pirate's life for me, Edinburgh, 1994
I was bored in Manchester in the February when the Beatles were conquering America, and during 'Woman's Hour' on the radio.
Sadly I have thus far failed to conquer America or women! Though like to think that being born during Woman's Hour was rather appropriate because I've always felt close kin to women, and girls do run strong in my family! Lots of Aunties, only girl cousins, four fabulous nieces and one sibling, a sister, I was expected to be a girl!
Fortunately I had a very happy childhood, occasionally ruined by having to go to school, and I still remember the happiest day of my life so far as being the day I left!
I remember watching a tv version of Wuthering Heights when I was 14 in that year of Wuthering Heights, 1978, Kate Bush had her hit in the early part of the year, (been in love with her ever since), and the best ever version of the book with a great actor called Ken Hutchison in the late part of the year. While on my own in the house I'd dress in an old ragged shirt and trousers, (I'd always loved dressing up since very young),, I messed up me hair up into curly dark tangles like Ken and copied him glowering around the house gripping a lit candle, (no holder), with wax dripping down on my hand, seeing the ghost of Cathy at every window. I don't think the carpets ever recovered!
I never recovered either! Acting wasn't a bug it was an incurable illness that infected me, and many times over the years, I've actually wished It'd just go away and I could have some money, because I've struggled for years with the cash ever since I first began to live the dream. Oh the misery it's brought down on me too!!!
Having said that I never wanted to do a proper job, proper jobs are hard, miserably hard. Work is hard. Acting, proper acting that someone pays you to do, to me neither seems like work or is particularly hard. Tragically, very tragically only with depressingly infrequency have I been paid not to work thus!
Sadly I have thus far failed to conquer America or women! Though like to think that being born during Woman's Hour was rather appropriate because I've always felt close kin to women, and girls do run strong in my family! Lots of Aunties, only girl cousins, four fabulous nieces and one sibling, a sister, I was expected to be a girl!
Fortunately I had a very happy childhood, occasionally ruined by having to go to school, and I still remember the happiest day of my life so far as being the day I left!
I remember watching a tv version of Wuthering Heights when I was 14 in that year of Wuthering Heights, 1978, Kate Bush had her hit in the early part of the year, (been in love with her ever since), and the best ever version of the book with a great actor called Ken Hutchison in the late part of the year. While on my own in the house I'd dress in an old ragged shirt and trousers, (I'd always loved dressing up since very young),, I messed up me hair up into curly dark tangles like Ken and copied him glowering around the house gripping a lit candle, (no holder), with wax dripping down on my hand, seeing the ghost of Cathy at every window. I don't think the carpets ever recovered!
I never recovered either! Acting wasn't a bug it was an incurable illness that infected me, and many times over the years, I've actually wished It'd just go away and I could have some money, because I've struggled for years with the cash ever since I first began to live the dream. Oh the misery it's brought down on me too!!!
Having said that I never wanted to do a proper job, proper jobs are hard, miserably hard. Work is hard. Acting, proper acting that someone pays you to do, to me neither seems like work or is particularly hard. Tragically, very tragically only with depressingly infrequency have I been paid not to work thus!
'They went that way I saw them!" (MYT, 1983)
A year after me dear old dad died, I did Manchester youth theatre, 1983 and again in 1984. Geoff & Hazel Sykes, rehearsing at the Ellen Wilkinson High School, Ardwick and performing at the much missed, (why did they have to get rid of it, because now it's like an empty shell) Library Theatre in Manchester central library.
My abiding memories of this were disappointment the first year, disappointment the second year and so disappointed again in the third that I dropped out in the first few days of the 1985 season! It was understandable disappointment because I was rubbish and so only got cast minor walk on, spear carrier like parts, with lines like "They went this way I saw them!" That was in The Lancashire Witches. God I must have been rubbish at the auditions, but MYT was democratic enough to guarantee everyone a part, no matter how small.
I like to think Geoff Sykes who I liked, and like everyone was a bit scared of, might have seen something in me, to let me in in the first place, He must have deffo saw through my big fibs about acting experience at the initial auditions to get in. Course he might have just been making up the numbers. But I was awful. I always used to think it was shyness, but with lots of reflection it was really courage, lack of courage that had haunted me all my life. Like the Cowardly Lion I lacked "The Nerve!"
Lacking the nerve still finds me out occasionally, but I can't really comprehend or recall it's confidence crushing depths within me, now, acting eventually gave me the nerve, though I still got it enough to get my medal of the wonderful Wizard of Oz!
I actually first auditioned for drama schools like RADA and Central School about that time, too, can't remember much about it, and how bad must I have been, but I must have had some misplaced confidence, that and the necessary masochism!
One thing thats always sustained me, and has not changed, has been a constant is dreaming, day dreaming. My favourite movie has always been Billy Liar with Tom Courtenay, where Billy day dreams his life through a dead end job, (literally, in an undertakers) between stringing along girls. He doesn't so much lie to others, well he does 'I can't come out tonight, me dad's having his leg amputated!" But he lies more to himself, seeing himself as this great heroic figure, garnering love and awards.
Now I've never strung girls along, well I'm ashamed to admit, I have wasted their time a few times, but I've honestly never two timed a woman. But dreaming, lying to myself is the absolute best thing I'm good at! It that sense I am Billy you see!
A reoccurring daydream is accepting best actor at the Oscars and talking about Billy Liar, saying I am Billy Liar, and will someone prove to me this isn't just another dream. Movies have always been my first love over theatre, but rarer than living, breathing mermaids in my experience. (I've long loved mermaids!), My other frequent Billy theatre dream goes something like this. I'm being interviewed by tv news in the circular auditorium of The Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester's real theatre of dreams, where like an old thesp with great conviction I recount my oft rehearsed speech of how I never felt I was a proper actor until I got to perform at the Royal Exchange, the magical circle venue of fabulous stories like Count of Monte Cristo, Philoctetes, Moby Dick and As you like it! And how just walking though the big hall and looking at the unearthly lunar module landed there would instill excitement in me.
Course of late, after writing to this company trying to get auditions for over 25 years , the excitement has very nearly turned into deep disgust and bitterness, and the dream has all but faded, but there's still almost time for a revival of this dream!
The 1980s had started with me being hoovered up by a succession of government schemes with no job prospect at the end, I went to work in Rare Records on John Dalton Street in Manc when I was 16, where Ian Curtis had once worked, a lady who worked there called Maggie who'd known him, told me I reminded her of him. I did 3 schemes in all, the last of which where I was a graphic artist collapsed before it even got to the end, because they didn't really need me.
Like many the 1980s from Falklands jingoism to juggling the unemployment figures, not to mention selling off all the public assets, gave me a long standing hatred of the Conservative party (the 1990s was to give me a dislike of Westminster politics generally with Tony Blairs new Labour conservatism and the archaic houses of parliament and ludicrously unfair, first past the post system electoral system).
I spent at least a couple of years unemployed in the 80s, between the schemes and a few other jobs, can't remember much about it other than writing lots of intense doomy, slightly gothicky poems, and death, wasting time and the absence of girls. I did a bit of archaeology too., in Milton Keynes, got into hot water about unofficially opening up our scummie hostel up to visitors to an open day at the Milton Keynes Archaeology unit, I made signs directing them to the hostel at Bradwell Abbey so the visitors got to see how we didn't have much including hot water! I'd always had a rebellious spirit
In 1990 I went off to Jersey for 6 months to work as publicity manager for old fashioned summer shows in a hotel on the esplanade in St Helier, that meant morning 'promotion' me pulling a mock up upright piano that played a tape from the shows music within it accompanied by a selection of the shows dancers, singers every morning giving leaflets out. And then I had to stand outside the hotel before the shows for an hour encourage people to come in. Some of the Portuguese staff in the hotel nicknamed me Basil cause they thought my antics outside resembled a manic Basil Fawlty!
I didn't make the 6 months of the contact, as ended up being fired in the end for getting involved in backstage politics which had seen the cast size dwindle in size dramatically, dancers quitting left right and centre, because the guy that ran it was an arse!
When I came back to Manc I started working at the then, and also I think much missed Granada Studios tour, in their mock up Rovers Return bar, lots of anecdotes about there, which I save for Billy Liaresque interview dreams! I do remember my ironed shirt was never ironed enough for the manager there, and they'd fine you for beer spillage from the anyway very gassy taps. I was the spillage king on the wallchart! I did some extra work on Coronation street and got to see how they filmed in the actual Rovers in between drinking pints of frothy Shandy.
My abiding memories of this were disappointment the first year, disappointment the second year and so disappointed again in the third that I dropped out in the first few days of the 1985 season! It was understandable disappointment because I was rubbish and so only got cast minor walk on, spear carrier like parts, with lines like "They went this way I saw them!" That was in The Lancashire Witches. God I must have been rubbish at the auditions, but MYT was democratic enough to guarantee everyone a part, no matter how small.
I like to think Geoff Sykes who I liked, and like everyone was a bit scared of, might have seen something in me, to let me in in the first place, He must have deffo saw through my big fibs about acting experience at the initial auditions to get in. Course he might have just been making up the numbers. But I was awful. I always used to think it was shyness, but with lots of reflection it was really courage, lack of courage that had haunted me all my life. Like the Cowardly Lion I lacked "The Nerve!"
Lacking the nerve still finds me out occasionally, but I can't really comprehend or recall it's confidence crushing depths within me, now, acting eventually gave me the nerve, though I still got it enough to get my medal of the wonderful Wizard of Oz!
I actually first auditioned for drama schools like RADA and Central School about that time, too, can't remember much about it, and how bad must I have been, but I must have had some misplaced confidence, that and the necessary masochism!
One thing thats always sustained me, and has not changed, has been a constant is dreaming, day dreaming. My favourite movie has always been Billy Liar with Tom Courtenay, where Billy day dreams his life through a dead end job, (literally, in an undertakers) between stringing along girls. He doesn't so much lie to others, well he does 'I can't come out tonight, me dad's having his leg amputated!" But he lies more to himself, seeing himself as this great heroic figure, garnering love and awards.
Now I've never strung girls along, well I'm ashamed to admit, I have wasted their time a few times, but I've honestly never two timed a woman. But dreaming, lying to myself is the absolute best thing I'm good at! It that sense I am Billy you see!
A reoccurring daydream is accepting best actor at the Oscars and talking about Billy Liar, saying I am Billy Liar, and will someone prove to me this isn't just another dream. Movies have always been my first love over theatre, but rarer than living, breathing mermaids in my experience. (I've long loved mermaids!), My other frequent Billy theatre dream goes something like this. I'm being interviewed by tv news in the circular auditorium of The Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester's real theatre of dreams, where like an old thesp with great conviction I recount my oft rehearsed speech of how I never felt I was a proper actor until I got to perform at the Royal Exchange, the magical circle venue of fabulous stories like Count of Monte Cristo, Philoctetes, Moby Dick and As you like it! And how just walking though the big hall and looking at the unearthly lunar module landed there would instill excitement in me.
Course of late, after writing to this company trying to get auditions for over 25 years , the excitement has very nearly turned into deep disgust and bitterness, and the dream has all but faded, but there's still almost time for a revival of this dream!
The 1980s had started with me being hoovered up by a succession of government schemes with no job prospect at the end, I went to work in Rare Records on John Dalton Street in Manc when I was 16, where Ian Curtis had once worked, a lady who worked there called Maggie who'd known him, told me I reminded her of him. I did 3 schemes in all, the last of which where I was a graphic artist collapsed before it even got to the end, because they didn't really need me.
Like many the 1980s from Falklands jingoism to juggling the unemployment figures, not to mention selling off all the public assets, gave me a long standing hatred of the Conservative party (the 1990s was to give me a dislike of Westminster politics generally with Tony Blairs new Labour conservatism and the archaic houses of parliament and ludicrously unfair, first past the post system electoral system).
I spent at least a couple of years unemployed in the 80s, between the schemes and a few other jobs, can't remember much about it other than writing lots of intense doomy, slightly gothicky poems, and death, wasting time and the absence of girls. I did a bit of archaeology too., in Milton Keynes, got into hot water about unofficially opening up our scummie hostel up to visitors to an open day at the Milton Keynes Archaeology unit, I made signs directing them to the hostel at Bradwell Abbey so the visitors got to see how we didn't have much including hot water! I'd always had a rebellious spirit
In 1990 I went off to Jersey for 6 months to work as publicity manager for old fashioned summer shows in a hotel on the esplanade in St Helier, that meant morning 'promotion' me pulling a mock up upright piano that played a tape from the shows music within it accompanied by a selection of the shows dancers, singers every morning giving leaflets out. And then I had to stand outside the hotel before the shows for an hour encourage people to come in. Some of the Portuguese staff in the hotel nicknamed me Basil cause they thought my antics outside resembled a manic Basil Fawlty!
I didn't make the 6 months of the contact, as ended up being fired in the end for getting involved in backstage politics which had seen the cast size dwindle in size dramatically, dancers quitting left right and centre, because the guy that ran it was an arse!
When I came back to Manc I started working at the then, and also I think much missed Granada Studios tour, in their mock up Rovers Return bar, lots of anecdotes about there, which I save for Billy Liaresque interview dreams! I do remember my ironed shirt was never ironed enough for the manager there, and they'd fine you for beer spillage from the anyway very gassy taps. I was the spillage king on the wallchart! I did some extra work on Coronation street and got to see how they filmed in the actual Rovers in between drinking pints of frothy Shandy.
The short lived 'Mishievous Fools', Heaton Park, Manchester 1992
Although I frequently displayed flashes of rebel determination, lacking the nerve still found me out, and it was acting that did eventually help me with courage. It's why I believe passionately that drama should be taken seriously by education, governments, schools, all refuse to see, it's confidence boosting potential, especially in shy or less than outgoing kids, because they view it as non vocational. So stupid, because it's just as team building as sports are, if not more so, and sport is also hard to make a career out of. Course It goes without saying that the rotten school I went to didn't take drama seriously, so we never did any.
It was a slow, slow journey for acting to help me. After youth theatre and London drama school auditions, I gave up. Except I didn't really, just didn't do anything about this dream between 1985 and 1991. But then 1991-92, I got involved in a theatre group in Salford, and gradually over the course of these weekly evenings over a period of 4-5 months, I suddenly could do it, it wasn't just a dream. I got into the whole Stanislavski/Stella Adler thing.
An absolutely important factor in my blossoming acting mojo was that I was absolutely buoyed and encouraged by seeing a lovely part time nurse/BA stewardess in the group.
In early 1992 the agents that ran this group, moved and the 'City Acting Studio' took over an old bank building on Chapel street and we the 10-15 students helped paint up and convert the ground floor old bank premises into a theatre, imaginatively, calling it 'The Old Bank Theatre.
We put on plays & showcases, but easily the most dramatic thing that ever happened there was the big double doors of the old bank building being ram raided by a van mid performance one night!
After this, I tried my hand at forming my own theatre company called 'Mischievous Fools', with the intention of performing in gardens of stately homes & castles, a play I had written adapted from an old English folk tale about Robin Goodfellow. A lovely gang we were, I'd always wanted to be in a band, we had publicity photographs taken of us cavorting round Heaton Park, and I designed a press pack to send out. Sadly despite grand plans the Mishievous Fools were destined to only ever do one show, in an old peoples home in North Manc!
The following year I thought I'd try drama school again, I was offered a place at two, Arts Ed in London & Birmingham School of speech & drama, (now Birmingham School of Acting). With no grant or funding, I opted for Birmingham as would be more affordable.
Before that I did what I'd wanted to do ever since falling in love with the Edinburgh fringe in 1988, I performed a one-man, street show version of Treasure Island at the Edinburgh fringe. I had written the piece for me and a friend to do, but he'd had to drop out a the last minute, so I went ahead and played all the roles, which was chaotic, but definitely energetic. Great compliment when the assistant curator of the National Museum of Scotland wanted me to perform it in the foyer of the museum, as their own Treasure Island readings to mark the centenary of RL Stevenson's death apparently weren't going down to well!
I was squatting for 2 weeks in the derelict old Scottish & Newcastle brewery, which was roughly where the Scottish Parliament now is with a French & German couple I'd met while camping out. Our host was Geoff Calhoun, a lovely & wonderful fella who was one f the most intelligent people I'd ever met, but who'd dropped out of the rat race and had dreams of the old bewery becoming a peoples arts centre. He looked like a ghost of a highlander from Culloden, wearing an antique kilt and coat, and never seem to sleep. I can still smell the herbal tea he'd brew for us in big industrial flasks he's acquired and see him lamp in hand patrolling his castle like brewery at night. Through Geoff I met many people living homeless, who'd sought refuge in the old brewery. Quite a few of them became like camp followers to the play, including strangely enough a guy with one-leg and another guy with a wooden parrot!
It was a slow, slow journey for acting to help me. After youth theatre and London drama school auditions, I gave up. Except I didn't really, just didn't do anything about this dream between 1985 and 1991. But then 1991-92, I got involved in a theatre group in Salford, and gradually over the course of these weekly evenings over a period of 4-5 months, I suddenly could do it, it wasn't just a dream. I got into the whole Stanislavski/Stella Adler thing.
An absolutely important factor in my blossoming acting mojo was that I was absolutely buoyed and encouraged by seeing a lovely part time nurse/BA stewardess in the group.
In early 1992 the agents that ran this group, moved and the 'City Acting Studio' took over an old bank building on Chapel street and we the 10-15 students helped paint up and convert the ground floor old bank premises into a theatre, imaginatively, calling it 'The Old Bank Theatre.
We put on plays & showcases, but easily the most dramatic thing that ever happened there was the big double doors of the old bank building being ram raided by a van mid performance one night!
After this, I tried my hand at forming my own theatre company called 'Mischievous Fools', with the intention of performing in gardens of stately homes & castles, a play I had written adapted from an old English folk tale about Robin Goodfellow. A lovely gang we were, I'd always wanted to be in a band, we had publicity photographs taken of us cavorting round Heaton Park, and I designed a press pack to send out. Sadly despite grand plans the Mishievous Fools were destined to only ever do one show, in an old peoples home in North Manc!
The following year I thought I'd try drama school again, I was offered a place at two, Arts Ed in London & Birmingham School of speech & drama, (now Birmingham School of Acting). With no grant or funding, I opted for Birmingham as would be more affordable.
Before that I did what I'd wanted to do ever since falling in love with the Edinburgh fringe in 1988, I performed a one-man, street show version of Treasure Island at the Edinburgh fringe. I had written the piece for me and a friend to do, but he'd had to drop out a the last minute, so I went ahead and played all the roles, which was chaotic, but definitely energetic. Great compliment when the assistant curator of the National Museum of Scotland wanted me to perform it in the foyer of the museum, as their own Treasure Island readings to mark the centenary of RL Stevenson's death apparently weren't going down to well!
I was squatting for 2 weeks in the derelict old Scottish & Newcastle brewery, which was roughly where the Scottish Parliament now is with a French & German couple I'd met while camping out. Our host was Geoff Calhoun, a lovely & wonderful fella who was one f the most intelligent people I'd ever met, but who'd dropped out of the rat race and had dreams of the old bewery becoming a peoples arts centre. He looked like a ghost of a highlander from Culloden, wearing an antique kilt and coat, and never seem to sleep. I can still smell the herbal tea he'd brew for us in big industrial flasks he's acquired and see him lamp in hand patrolling his castle like brewery at night. Through Geoff I met many people living homeless, who'd sought refuge in the old brewery. Quite a few of them became like camp followers to the play, including strangely enough a guy with one-leg and another guy with a wooden parrot!
"Fuck them up!"
Memorable times at Birmingham were, well just being a student for the first time! I met some lovely people, in the college & out. Met some lovely girls, played the part of a hell raiser offstage, or at least tried me best to cultivate a hell raiser image! Oh and the bells that rang between lessons, and the headmistressy style principal Miss Yardley! Her daily assemblies where she's often berate us with classics like "The college isn't run for the benefit of the students!"
Also the old Georgian house's main room, known as 'The Regency Room', where the dimmer switch on the chandelier was the height of technical support for first year shows.
There were some good shows, far more dreadful bad ones, such as the worst version of the Tempest that there's possibly ever been where at least I had fun playing Trinculo and wearing a skirt! I enjoyed 'Teechers' by John Godber, loved playing the teacher Mr Nixon, based him on the best teacher I had at Birmingham, the best teacher I've ever had in fact, a great Welshman called Ron Williams. He reminded me of my dad, still miss both.
Also I loved playing Millwall football hooligan Billy in Nick Perry's 'Arrivederci Millwall' and in particular doing Billy's Henry V inspired, rousing speech calling the firm to arms, (or in this case stanley knives), right in front of Miss Yardley sat in front row, sat legs akimbo, hairs poking through her tights, "FUCK THEM UP!" I chorused.
I almost got kicked out of Birmingham, not because of that, but through a mixture of struggling to pay fees. Between them, me dear mum & good old Anthony Hopkins funded me and I had to work in various bars & occasionally Waterstones to support myself. Also through mooning about because of various impossible women I'd fallen for, made me just not bother going in sometimes. Extreme disappointment in the drama school too.
The final year play Dancing at Lughnasa was easily the best thing done there. Still the best director I've ever had was John Adams who cast me despite my misgivings, as the narrator Michael in Brian Friel's 'Dancing at Lughnasa' a production I found it as moving to act in, as people told me they found to watch.
Also the old Georgian house's main room, known as 'The Regency Room', where the dimmer switch on the chandelier was the height of technical support for first year shows.
There were some good shows, far more dreadful bad ones, such as the worst version of the Tempest that there's possibly ever been where at least I had fun playing Trinculo and wearing a skirt! I enjoyed 'Teechers' by John Godber, loved playing the teacher Mr Nixon, based him on the best teacher I had at Birmingham, the best teacher I've ever had in fact, a great Welshman called Ron Williams. He reminded me of my dad, still miss both.
Also I loved playing Millwall football hooligan Billy in Nick Perry's 'Arrivederci Millwall' and in particular doing Billy's Henry V inspired, rousing speech calling the firm to arms, (or in this case stanley knives), right in front of Miss Yardley sat in front row, sat legs akimbo, hairs poking through her tights, "FUCK THEM UP!" I chorused.
I almost got kicked out of Birmingham, not because of that, but through a mixture of struggling to pay fees. Between them, me dear mum & good old Anthony Hopkins funded me and I had to work in various bars & occasionally Waterstones to support myself. Also through mooning about because of various impossible women I'd fallen for, made me just not bother going in sometimes. Extreme disappointment in the drama school too.
The final year play Dancing at Lughnasa was easily the best thing done there. Still the best director I've ever had was John Adams who cast me despite my misgivings, as the narrator Michael in Brian Friel's 'Dancing at Lughnasa' a production I found it as moving to act in, as people told me they found to watch.
Carry on Up the Easter Rising! (1916 Kings Head, 2001)
I came to London in 1998 and performed my own self produced version of 'Silent Night', a new version of Steven Berkoff's solo play 'Harry's Christmas' (always loved Berkoff"s writing). I did this at the Canal Cafe Theatre in Little Venice, at the time under the artistic directorship of Marc Wooton. Few came despite my best efforts and I ended up not even being able to pay the director and lovely fella that did the lighting, as well as everything the venue wanted. Haven't been back there since!
After this I worked a lot on various fringe shows in London, (got some hilarious reviews which I save for my Billy celebrity interview anecdotes!), mostly they were just profit share, which meant beer money. I rehearsed around tour guiding on various open top sightseeing bus companies which paid the rent on flat shares from Greenwich to Streatham, New Cross to Sydenham. Always liked South London the best when I lived in London town.
A favourite was a new play, 1916, about the Easter Rising in Dublin, written by friend & frequent future collaborator John Dunne.
Dear old John, we've had more fallings out than the Irish Guards over the years, but I still love the old blighter.
I loved it because I got to play legendary Irish socialist & one of the leaders of the Easter Rising, James Connolly. I've always loved playing real people, especially people I count as heroes. I've long been drawn to Ireland too. Remember tales of my dad, who was born in Liverpool of Welsh parents, having a mysterious relative called Miss Wood from Dublin, (Dubs always been a favourite place), where possibly the root of the Wood in my name comes from. And there was dad being nicknamed Paddy when he was in the RAF in WW2!
1916 was a mess really, but then again so was Dublin's post office after the rising! A cast of over 12 on the tiny stage at the Kings Head in Islington with lots of heavy artillery sound effects which often drowned out the dialogue, And the action bordering on the carry on films at times. But I loved playing Connolly, even though the director Syd Golder wouldn't let me play him as the Scotsman he was. "Nah fuck off, they'll only think you can't do an Irish accent!"
After this I worked a lot on various fringe shows in London, (got some hilarious reviews which I save for my Billy celebrity interview anecdotes!), mostly they were just profit share, which meant beer money. I rehearsed around tour guiding on various open top sightseeing bus companies which paid the rent on flat shares from Greenwich to Streatham, New Cross to Sydenham. Always liked South London the best when I lived in London town.
A favourite was a new play, 1916, about the Easter Rising in Dublin, written by friend & frequent future collaborator John Dunne.
Dear old John, we've had more fallings out than the Irish Guards over the years, but I still love the old blighter.
I loved it because I got to play legendary Irish socialist & one of the leaders of the Easter Rising, James Connolly. I've always loved playing real people, especially people I count as heroes. I've long been drawn to Ireland too. Remember tales of my dad, who was born in Liverpool of Welsh parents, having a mysterious relative called Miss Wood from Dublin, (Dubs always been a favourite place), where possibly the root of the Wood in my name comes from. And there was dad being nicknamed Paddy when he was in the RAF in WW2!
1916 was a mess really, but then again so was Dublin's post office after the rising! A cast of over 12 on the tiny stage at the Kings Head in Islington with lots of heavy artillery sound effects which often drowned out the dialogue, And the action bordering on the carry on films at times. But I loved playing Connolly, even though the director Syd Golder wouldn't let me play him as the Scotsman he was. "Nah fuck off, they'll only think you can't do an Irish accent!"
Paddy Kavanagh sat with a weird bloke that dresses up as him!
Looking back over the last 10 years, my most enjoyable role was playing Irish poet Patrick Kavanagh in the plays 'On Raglan Road' (2007 & 2008) and 'Kavanagh' (2009) Produced by my old, long suffering buddy John Dunne. Particularly because it gave me the opportunity to tour all around Ireland over 2 consecutive years, (I'd love to play Paddy Kavanagh again, and in Dublin). On the second tour I even got to play him at the annual Patrick Kavanagh weekend in his birthplace Inniskeen, at his old church now a vistors centre, with himself buried in the churchyard there.
The audience was made up of scholars from not just Ireland, but around the world who revere his work. If I'm honest, I think half the audience liked me, the other half hated me, which wasn't bad going!
And then there was Wainwright. Wainwright was the most successful I've ever been, or as near as I've been to a rung on the ladder of the impossible dream.
I was cast in as Alfred Wainwright or AW in the BBC drama documentary 'The Man who loved the lakes' I'd once worked for the YHA, so was aware of the almost cult following AW's little guidebooks inspired amongst outdoor types! I was lucky as I think I was the only one they saw that morning who was a tall as him and from the north.
Luck and lazyness, (or both), on the part of casters/directors is what it's really all about I've found!
The director, who's background was current affairs, had never done drama before. He said to me one day into the shoot, "You're from oop norf aren't you, you can do his voice?!" So although uncredited for voicing him, you did end up hearing me as, as well as seeing me as him in the film. And this bit of luck was to lead to me voicing AW in a highly successful spin-off series 'Wainwright Walks', fronted by Julia Bradbury. This ran to 3 series broadcast between 2007-2009 and became best selling dvd's! In addition to this Cumbria tourism hit upon the idea of me recording podcasts, with myself as Wainwright guiding walkers, thereby coining the phrase: 'Flat-Cap Nav' ! I went on to record more for the publishers of the Wainwright books Francis Lincoln. Later I recorded AW's prose for a Radio 4 programme: 'The Man Behind the Mountains', The old fella's been good for me, though I'm sure he wouldn't be impressed with the programmes popularity inspiring many more walkers on the mountains!
Then I wrote a play about Beatles roadie Mal Evans. I've always loved the Fab 4, my sister got me into them, as she had their red & blue best of double albums in the 1970s, (my sister got me into lots of good stuff, David Bowie, Tom Courtenay, the Bronte's too!).
So being the same height and build as this gentle giant, friend and close confidante to the boys who. almost certainly gave Paul McCartney the idea for Sergeant Pepper, as well as helping with lyrics to a couple of songs, I came up with an idea for a one-man show with original music based around the Sergeant Pepper album tracks. A lovely fella called Sylvester Campion helped me write music for it. I wrote a tune, and hummed a basic riff, and Sylvester put magic to it. I wanted to do something imaginative, as a homage to the Fab 4 and not just another dull, run of the mill, biographical one-man play.
It began at The Cavern in Liverpool, as a lunchtime show, I had Sylvester and another fella playing bass guitar live to me singing. It was huge fun fronting a band at the Cavern, but I was too busy treading on me nerves to notice, the audience was largely made up of my family from the Wirral and Mals extended family from Liverpool and London. I am really proud that this was the first straight foreword play ever to be put on at the Cavern.
Then I went onto do 3 weeks at the 2012 Edinburgh Festival Fringe in a venue that looked like the Cavern, but with a distinct lack of Cave dwellers! Think I averaged about 8 or 9 a night in a venue that could seat 40, but at least never had to cancel. Even the worst audience of 3 turned out to be the best show! The following year I planned an ambitious 11 week tour of England & Ireland with as many venues. The play received good notices & audience reaction was very positive, but regional touring theatre is sadly in the doldrums and the audiences were just not coming out for it and a succession of venues went down like dominoes, as I had to cancel a succession of shows, as audiences just weren't interested. Leeds, Liverpool & Crawley in England were exceptions and there were great nights in Ireland in Dublin, Wexford and Mayo.
But the whole experience has put me off ever producing my own work again, but the best thing about playing Mal was the reaction from Mal's family, his son, Gary and daughter Julie & her children, (Mal's grandsons) And I'm really happy to say I now count them as friends.
The audience was made up of scholars from not just Ireland, but around the world who revere his work. If I'm honest, I think half the audience liked me, the other half hated me, which wasn't bad going!
And then there was Wainwright. Wainwright was the most successful I've ever been, or as near as I've been to a rung on the ladder of the impossible dream.
I was cast in as Alfred Wainwright or AW in the BBC drama documentary 'The Man who loved the lakes' I'd once worked for the YHA, so was aware of the almost cult following AW's little guidebooks inspired amongst outdoor types! I was lucky as I think I was the only one they saw that morning who was a tall as him and from the north.
Luck and lazyness, (or both), on the part of casters/directors is what it's really all about I've found!
The director, who's background was current affairs, had never done drama before. He said to me one day into the shoot, "You're from oop norf aren't you, you can do his voice?!" So although uncredited for voicing him, you did end up hearing me as, as well as seeing me as him in the film. And this bit of luck was to lead to me voicing AW in a highly successful spin-off series 'Wainwright Walks', fronted by Julia Bradbury. This ran to 3 series broadcast between 2007-2009 and became best selling dvd's! In addition to this Cumbria tourism hit upon the idea of me recording podcasts, with myself as Wainwright guiding walkers, thereby coining the phrase: 'Flat-Cap Nav' ! I went on to record more for the publishers of the Wainwright books Francis Lincoln. Later I recorded AW's prose for a Radio 4 programme: 'The Man Behind the Mountains', The old fella's been good for me, though I'm sure he wouldn't be impressed with the programmes popularity inspiring many more walkers on the mountains!
Then I wrote a play about Beatles roadie Mal Evans. I've always loved the Fab 4, my sister got me into them, as she had their red & blue best of double albums in the 1970s, (my sister got me into lots of good stuff, David Bowie, Tom Courtenay, the Bronte's too!).
So being the same height and build as this gentle giant, friend and close confidante to the boys who. almost certainly gave Paul McCartney the idea for Sergeant Pepper, as well as helping with lyrics to a couple of songs, I came up with an idea for a one-man show with original music based around the Sergeant Pepper album tracks. A lovely fella called Sylvester Campion helped me write music for it. I wrote a tune, and hummed a basic riff, and Sylvester put magic to it. I wanted to do something imaginative, as a homage to the Fab 4 and not just another dull, run of the mill, biographical one-man play.
It began at The Cavern in Liverpool, as a lunchtime show, I had Sylvester and another fella playing bass guitar live to me singing. It was huge fun fronting a band at the Cavern, but I was too busy treading on me nerves to notice, the audience was largely made up of my family from the Wirral and Mals extended family from Liverpool and London. I am really proud that this was the first straight foreword play ever to be put on at the Cavern.
Then I went onto do 3 weeks at the 2012 Edinburgh Festival Fringe in a venue that looked like the Cavern, but with a distinct lack of Cave dwellers! Think I averaged about 8 or 9 a night in a venue that could seat 40, but at least never had to cancel. Even the worst audience of 3 turned out to be the best show! The following year I planned an ambitious 11 week tour of England & Ireland with as many venues. The play received good notices & audience reaction was very positive, but regional touring theatre is sadly in the doldrums and the audiences were just not coming out for it and a succession of venues went down like dominoes, as I had to cancel a succession of shows, as audiences just weren't interested. Leeds, Liverpool & Crawley in England were exceptions and there were great nights in Ireland in Dublin, Wexford and Mayo.
But the whole experience has put me off ever producing my own work again, but the best thing about playing Mal was the reaction from Mal's family, his son, Gary and daughter Julie & her children, (Mal's grandsons) And I'm really happy to say I now count them as friends.
I did three years running of pantos between 2014 & 2016, despite them in drama school having to invent a new group of ineptitude for the likes of me, The first director of Jack & the Beanstalk in Clacton hated me. He was all "And 5-6-7-8!" And my King Bumble, was I think appropriately at least a 9, though 5-6-7-8 didn't see it that way. BLIMEY I nearly asked him if he shagged to 5-6-7-8 beat as well! Luckily I had an ally in the star of the show, lovely fella Charlie Condou, who'd been in Coronation Street, or I might have been kicked out.
And the last time I did panto, I got to play Captain Hook for the first time since drama school showcase and without having to dance or suffer the embarrassment of choreographed bows, and 5-6-7-8…..9! Sadly can't see me getting panto again, not unless I've done a fair bit of telly or suffered such a blow to the head that suddenly I can dance!
And the last time I did panto, I got to play Captain Hook for the first time since drama school showcase and without having to dance or suffer the embarrassment of choreographed bows, and 5-6-7-8…..9! Sadly can't see me getting panto again, not unless I've done a fair bit of telly or suffered such a blow to the head that suddenly I can dance!
Put a Wor after W
I said that if I wasn't a successful actor by the time I was 50 that I'd give it up. I didn't kid myself, as I've said already, it's an incurable illness, terminal in fact.
I wrote a poem in my 40's called 'Black gels best to Highlight' in a attempt to explain the "silly illness" and how even if i had could see the path would never bring me success, I'd still walk down it.
Anyway my 'inner Billy' will never go away, I'll still be dreaming of acting glory with my last waking dream before my Viking funeral, complete with wonderful, rousing score from the 1958 Kirk Douglas movie, (Kirk, my all time favourite actor btw).
Course the way things are going I'll never be able to afford to leave money for even the most basic crem funeral! Oh just throw me on a bonfire like Percy Shelley's friends, who burnt his dead body on an Italian beach!
I dream of being allowed to play 'the great game' ....well it's not dreaming so much as gagging for it! Let me be in something like Jamestown, Britannia, Happy Valley, Endeavour, Banished, or Benidorm!
Dream roles would be pirates, Celts, Romans or Vikings. Captain Hook or Long John Silver. I've always loved Robert Newton and wanted his career, Bill Sikes to old Long John. I'd really want to play old Long John again, first time since playing badly hopping round Italy in 2009, always made a point of not copying him though, as he was so definitive., found myself instead referencing John Huston's growling intonation, my all time favourite film director.
Also it'd be an absolute dream to play Jules Verne's Captain Nemo, could do a lot with thisas it would be Cyrano de Bergerac, although I could never play him as well as Depardieu!
Oh and I'd give anything to put Worzel Gummidge's head on in a revival for tv. Jon Pertwee's straw would be hard to fill, but I'd have a go at making 10-Acre field my my own.
I wrote a poem in my 40's called 'Black gels best to Highlight' in a attempt to explain the "silly illness" and how even if i had could see the path would never bring me success, I'd still walk down it.
Anyway my 'inner Billy' will never go away, I'll still be dreaming of acting glory with my last waking dream before my Viking funeral, complete with wonderful, rousing score from the 1958 Kirk Douglas movie, (Kirk, my all time favourite actor btw).
Course the way things are going I'll never be able to afford to leave money for even the most basic crem funeral! Oh just throw me on a bonfire like Percy Shelley's friends, who burnt his dead body on an Italian beach!
I dream of being allowed to play 'the great game' ....well it's not dreaming so much as gagging for it! Let me be in something like Jamestown, Britannia, Happy Valley, Endeavour, Banished, or Benidorm!
Dream roles would be pirates, Celts, Romans or Vikings. Captain Hook or Long John Silver. I've always loved Robert Newton and wanted his career, Bill Sikes to old Long John. I'd really want to play old Long John again, first time since playing badly hopping round Italy in 2009, always made a point of not copying him though, as he was so definitive., found myself instead referencing John Huston's growling intonation, my all time favourite film director.
Also it'd be an absolute dream to play Jules Verne's Captain Nemo, could do a lot with thisas it would be Cyrano de Bergerac, although I could never play him as well as Depardieu!
Oh and I'd give anything to put Worzel Gummidge's head on in a revival for tv. Jon Pertwee's straw would be hard to fill, but I'd have a go at making 10-Acre field my my own.
Sometimes all that's needed is a full bodied Red & a silky, swishy dress!
I've always wanted to be Robin Hood too, still do. Albeit an ageing one now, Russell Crowe was an interesting older Robin opposite wonderful Cate Blanchett in an otherwise, surprisingly dull film by Ridley Scott, But it was Sean Connery who's finest hour and a bit was Rob in Robin and Marian, love that film to bits. Course sometimes I'd wanna dress up as Marian too! (Ever since i was 4 years of age rummaging in a dressing up box under the stairs in the house where I grew up, Ive been a secretive tranny). I'd be the Marian who's the real brains of the outlaws though, firing arrows, like in the 90's children tv show, 'Maid Marian and her merry men'
Sometimes I think I'd just be happy living in Dublin, playing Paddy Kavanagh in some of the old pubs telling his life to any literary tourist who might want to hear it for a few euro, Or at other times living by the sea, painting big canvases of mermaids, better still living with a mermaid! Course I'd still daydream, about being in a Pirates of the Caribbean movie and my Oscar acceptance speech..
Frequently I dream of the acting Gods of inspiration now departed from the casting books, somehow seeing fit to help me from beyond. I believe I am, but hope I'm not totally fucked!
OH! Peter Sellers, Charles Laughton, Richard Harris, Robert Newton, John Hurt, Marlon Brando., Robert Newton, actors I have loved & been inspired by and who still live on in the magical movie afterlife.......PLEASE HELP ME IF YOU CAN!
Black Gel's Best to Highlight
Monstrous thought of got that out of your system,
Give me the strength to make real what I dreamt.
Like an arrow continually being fired and never getting tired and or ever letting go.
Only one string on the finest, sharpest bow.
Free me from shadows where I too easily despair,
a confined time of past time well beneath the stairs,
Where I continually rummage and undermine all courage,
Emerging from the dark, albeit well into fourth part and ask 'where do I start?
Something to fall back on... my arse!
Can you climb up a ladder without any rungs there?
Is there such an energy after years of starving hunger?
Does a speck of modest success between some soulless job
stop you suspecting horrid hobby, terminal folly, and what a silly illness to die of?
Can you dare more than you care, without ever being scared
and never being spared all the just not fucking fairs!
And all the pain and the gain and the fallen down again!
Only to rise up on an impossibly hopeless refrain..
Like untrained dancer that simply holds the show together,
This means that even if I can't get on...I'll still try forever.
(NWJ)
FAVOURITE FILMS
Billy Liar (1963)
Being There (1980)
The Apartment (1960)
Midnight Cowboy (1969)
The Vikings (1958)
Robin and Marian (1975)
Cyrano de Bergerac (1991)
Far From the Madding Crowd (1967)
The Field (1990)
Brazil (1985)
Comrades (1986)
Leon (1994)
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
Withnail and I. (1987)
Last of the Mohicans (1992)
Gladiator (2000)
MY DESERT ISLAND DISCS (I've long had a Billy about being invited on the show!)
1 Across The Universe OR Day in the Life OR Helter Skelter OR Girl OR In my Life, OR Here Comes the Sun. The Beatles
2 Promontory Last of the Mohicans. Trevor Jones
3 Lord Franklin. Sinead O'connor
4 Beesley Street. John Cooper Clarke
5 Moments of Pleasure. Kate Bush
6 Purple Haze. Jimi Hendrix
7 San Jacinto. Peter Gabriel
8 Gimme some Truth. John Lennon
Hard to be without extras
9.Absolute Beginners OR Wild is the Wind David Bowie
10 Whiskey in the Jar Thin Lizzy
11 Pictures of You OR The Kiss The Cure
12 Decades Joy Division
(Probably just as well I'll never be on the programme as 8 records is really way tooo few!)
FAVOURITE BOOKS
Wuthering Heights. Emily Bronte
Borstal Boy. Brendan Behan
Red Shift & The Owl Service. Alan Garner.
Complete Short Stories of Robert Louis Stevenson
Burning Your Boats, Collected Short Stories of Angela Carter
The Piano Players. Anthony Burgess
The Dancing Stones. Catherine Feeny
The Count of Monte Cristo. Alexander Dumas
Collected Poems Dylan Thomas
Collected Poems TS Elliott
Sometimes I think I'd just be happy living in Dublin, playing Paddy Kavanagh in some of the old pubs telling his life to any literary tourist who might want to hear it for a few euro, Or at other times living by the sea, painting big canvases of mermaids, better still living with a mermaid! Course I'd still daydream, about being in a Pirates of the Caribbean movie and my Oscar acceptance speech..
Frequently I dream of the acting Gods of inspiration now departed from the casting books, somehow seeing fit to help me from beyond. I believe I am, but hope I'm not totally fucked!
OH! Peter Sellers, Charles Laughton, Richard Harris, Robert Newton, John Hurt, Marlon Brando., Robert Newton, actors I have loved & been inspired by and who still live on in the magical movie afterlife.......PLEASE HELP ME IF YOU CAN!
Black Gel's Best to Highlight
Monstrous thought of got that out of your system,
Give me the strength to make real what I dreamt.
Like an arrow continually being fired and never getting tired and or ever letting go.
Only one string on the finest, sharpest bow.
Free me from shadows where I too easily despair,
a confined time of past time well beneath the stairs,
Where I continually rummage and undermine all courage,
Emerging from the dark, albeit well into fourth part and ask 'where do I start?
Something to fall back on... my arse!
Can you climb up a ladder without any rungs there?
Is there such an energy after years of starving hunger?
Does a speck of modest success between some soulless job
stop you suspecting horrid hobby, terminal folly, and what a silly illness to die of?
Can you dare more than you care, without ever being scared
and never being spared all the just not fucking fairs!
And all the pain and the gain and the fallen down again!
Only to rise up on an impossibly hopeless refrain..
Like untrained dancer that simply holds the show together,
This means that even if I can't get on...I'll still try forever.
(NWJ)
FAVOURITE FILMS
Billy Liar (1963)
Being There (1980)
The Apartment (1960)
Midnight Cowboy (1969)
The Vikings (1958)
Robin and Marian (1975)
Cyrano de Bergerac (1991)
Far From the Madding Crowd (1967)
The Field (1990)
Brazil (1985)
Comrades (1986)
Leon (1994)
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
Withnail and I. (1987)
Last of the Mohicans (1992)
Gladiator (2000)
MY DESERT ISLAND DISCS (I've long had a Billy about being invited on the show!)
1 Across The Universe OR Day in the Life OR Helter Skelter OR Girl OR In my Life, OR Here Comes the Sun. The Beatles
2 Promontory Last of the Mohicans. Trevor Jones
3 Lord Franklin. Sinead O'connor
4 Beesley Street. John Cooper Clarke
5 Moments of Pleasure. Kate Bush
6 Purple Haze. Jimi Hendrix
7 San Jacinto. Peter Gabriel
8 Gimme some Truth. John Lennon
Hard to be without extras
9.Absolute Beginners OR Wild is the Wind David Bowie
10 Whiskey in the Jar Thin Lizzy
11 Pictures of You OR The Kiss The Cure
12 Decades Joy Division
(Probably just as well I'll never be on the programme as 8 records is really way tooo few!)
FAVOURITE BOOKS
Wuthering Heights. Emily Bronte
Borstal Boy. Brendan Behan
Red Shift & The Owl Service. Alan Garner.
Complete Short Stories of Robert Louis Stevenson
Burning Your Boats, Collected Short Stories of Angela Carter
The Piano Players. Anthony Burgess
The Dancing Stones. Catherine Feeny
The Count of Monte Cristo. Alexander Dumas
Collected Poems Dylan Thomas
Collected Poems TS Elliott
