By Violence Unavenged nears completion! It feels a bit like rehearsing a new play. The script is written (mostly!); lines mastered; costumes, sets, and props gathered and made; lighting guys are tinkering. Everyone’s abuzz. Just for fun, the director calls the actors together and has them take a bow to celebrate the first run through. They line up across the stage, squabble a bit over order and pairings – a bit of mock deference here and genuine respect there – and acknowledge an imaginary audience.
So too, on my mind’s stage, characters line up. I cannot call them ‘my characters’ because they are not ‘mine’. They are themselves. It has been an interesting ‘getting to know you’ time these last four years: many twists and turns, a few surprising individuals wandering onto the set, some curious hidden talents. Now that they’re all on stage, how do they look? I lean against the back of a chair in an imaginary dress circle, and take note. What variety exists in age, personality, physique, and physiognomy? There are numerous male characters (a personal challenge, I guess, but insightful with regard to Miss Phoebe, and probably worthy of a separate blog). How do they present? Does anyone need more development? A special prop perhaps? A more significant part? In what order should they take their bows? Who is more important? The supporting roles: how do they function, and how do they captivate? Who pairs with who? How do the villains come across? And the heroine? Or is she an antiheroine? And what about the hero?
Overall, they’re a good cast. I’ve enjoyed working with them. But, oh dear, what will the audience think when the curtain really does rise?
A few drinks might be in store.
And, I can understand why Graham Greene burned his early writings.