Before I start my report, let me just say that Lidl’s Alesto salted peanuts might be the best peanuts I’ve ever had. Honestly, I could quite (and still might) gobble and crunch the whole bag.

Right. I was recently ‘invited’ to write something for Manchester Contact theatre’s ‘Verbally Challenged’. By ‘invited’, I mean, that I was among a pool of writers to be contacted for the monthly event. I previously submitted a sample of work to be considered for the pool. I got back to them and said no prob, I’ll write something. The brief was rather contrived. We (the other writers too)
had to write our own short play/sketch that would last around ten minutes about two people plotting against each other, and not revealing who was really plotting until the end. Something like that, I recall. Anyway, I didn’t want to limit myself with that so strayed away a little. My piece Psychosis Symphony was about a woman, who thinks some other person in her estate is bullying and harassing her, when in fact, with the help of Mozart, it is the other way around. Kind of. It was dream-like and featured crude secondary characters, including Mozart himself, to reflect my main character’s mind state. And it had some ace dialogue. I had about two weeks to put this thing together.

I did something for Contact Theatre a few years previously in 2003. They displayed an extract from ‘The Travesty’, a full length play that’s still knocking about and waiting for a full scale production.

I set off at 6.30 to beat traffic on the East Lancs road. By rights, I should have arrived just before 7 p.m., but the constant roadworks/fuck-ups (where no-one ever seems to be working) and the extended rush hour meant that it was about 7.28 p.m. when I eventually rolled into Contact Theatre’s car park. I literally reached ‘Space 2’ a small studio theatre space as they were starting. I’m rarely in a good mood when I’ve been rushing. However my baby was with me so I’d be all right. As with the similar showcase from a few years previously, there was a camp compere and about five short plays of which there’d be feedback in between. As before they were performed with scripts in hand, although the reading was impressive enough to forget that the actors were holding anything. Of course there were props, set, music and lighting to give the pieces some sense of atmosphere.

Unlike event years previously the studio space was, or at least felt, smaller. The audience were smaller, not individually, obviously but also not as broad. They were like clones. I’m loathe to use the term ‘hipster’ here but they were certainly more fashion and hairstyle conscious than the audience was a few years ago. Hey, but what matters is what comes out of their mouths during the feeback right? I’ll come to that. Still there didn’t seem to be the sense of occasion or effort as there was a few years ago. The aim of the event was to showcase new writing, and to vote for a winner. The ‘winner’ would ‘win’ £100.00. Essentially the winner, as it turned out, was the person who had brought the most friends.Cynical? As I said the audience was small compared to the full attendance of 2003.

Okay so what were the pieces like Mr. Bitterness? Well you know what mine was like. The actors and direction kind of reached 65-70% of how I wanted it to be presented. I was able to notice certain lines that didn’t work for me. Some of the scene transitions could have been handled more smoothly. Nit-picking aside, the overall performance was okay. The feedback was okay to an extent (those that spoke). I felt that there was an initial reluctance to engage with it. The audience response had been reasonable during the piece and I suppose they didn’t know how to respond, which is kind of what many of my pieces do, but when they work they really draw everyone in. I think also the fact that my piece went first was not really effective sequencing, not when you consider the next four plays that followed. So in a sense the audience hadn’t really had time to warm up.

The next four pieces were theatrical and seemed to hit their target audience. The pieces ranged from stuff about zombies and end of days, to a sleep walking woman who eats food, stressed out office workers who are on medication and a total rip off of Stephen King’s ‘Insomnia’. A total rip off. They also featured knob and toilet gags and LOTS OF SHOUTING! They really felt like spec scripts for E4. Powdered comedy where you just add water. Apart from the subject matter there was nothing in those pieces where you could separate the style of writers. I didn’t really have any feedback to add which would help the writers. They wouldn’t have listened anyway. Also it wouldn’t have felt right interfering as I was one of the writers, so I sort of stayed out of it. I don’t think they needed help as they had reached their audience. E.g. laughs= innovative writing. Did they work as comedies for me? Nah. They lacked focus and most of the characters spoke the same. Almost affected. The compere didn’t help as well, nodding and saying how fantastic everything was. Th audience feedback featured some classic constructive gems. ‘I have a friend who sleepwalks. It’s true, they eat too.’ Hmm.

The standard of the pieces in 2003 were far higher. Even my piece in 2003 was more daring than the piece I knocked together for last night. Many of the writers on that night seemed to be from all walks of life, whereas, last night bar me, and the Stephen King fan, the writers had exactly the same background. Unlike before I wasn’t able to enjoy another piece as much as mine or feel that there was something stronger, that the writers knew their subject and had an awareness of writing for the theatre. My piece suffered as I should have thought about my audience more, waited, gone to a couple of events to gauge the style of plays and the audience. I could have written something which they’d respond more to or to make life easier…just not bothered.

So what have I learned? Well I didn’t know that you could be flashed on the East Lancs Road by a red light camera for stopping at the traffic lights. Someone explain that one to me. That’s a new one. As for the showcase, well… I don’t know. It’s changed from last time. I’m sure, or I hope that this doesn’t represent that all audiences have changed. Maybe my writing, which I think is effortless and accessible, is actually too complex or messed up. I don’t know. I try to be succinct and I can’t bear stuff that has to nanny its audience, or over explain itself, as most entertainments seem to more than ever. The director got what my piece was about so I know I’m not fully crazy. If I have a problem it’s that I over analyse things. Look it was just a small experiment, a night out, not a full scale play at The National. It went down okay and if I’m honest (like I haven’t been already) my piece wasn’t as strong as the last thing I submitted. Will I write something for them again? We’ll see. Probably not. Will this affect my writing or the pursuit of a career? It won’t make a difference.