Take us to the edge, but don't throw us in

       This quote struck something with me. Immersive theatre is outside the box of what you expect from theatre. Truly, if I had to compare it with another form of theatre, the closest comparison I would make would be pantomime. However the two couldn't be any more different.

       From the moment I found out that Anna would be my next project, I knew that I wanted to exploit intimacy in a way that I hadn't done before. I wanted the audience to feel like they should be running on stage and intervening, and I wanted them to feel guilt for watching the characters go through difficult circumstances and not helping. This was perfect, the play is partly told through the eyes of a girl who sees the horror of school bullying at its worst and still does not speak up about it. Safe to say I went through with this, but in the process I learnt a lot about what you can and can't do in the performance space.

       The quote "Take us to the edge, but don't throw us in" realizes what had to be accomplished perfectly. We may try to blur the lines, but the theatre has two types of people, the cast and the audience, the participants and the onlookers, us and them; those lines can never be fully crossed. What we can do, and indeed attempted to do, is bring the two right up to that line until it is too close for comfort, until the audience is no longer merely watching and/or listening but experiencing all of the senses that the cast feel. This is what immersion means, it delivers an alternative form of entertainment that captures as many senses as possible. This was the driving force that drew me further into this world, and that is exactly what I wanted to do with my test subjects, the unsuspecting audience.

       My earliest experience with immersive theatre was early in my teenage years, when my school was chosen as a venue for an amateur theatre group performing a Welsh language piece on PTSD in soldiers following war. At that age I didn't fully understand the weight of the material being presented to me, however what I did understand was that I did not feel like a mere onlooker. The show closed with a monologue where the soldier in question challenged his own strength, unable to avenge an attack on his sister despite being able to kill opposing soldiers years before. This is where I sat on the edge of the performance, it wasn't a presentation of these events, I was almost sitting in the room with him, almost as if he was expecting me to deliver the reassurance he needs. This production stayed with me moreso than any other production that I saw throughout my school days. It was something that fulfilled me to take on the challenge almost ten years later.

       And it certainly was a challenge. Anna would have to be in the round to make the most of this method, this prevented us from masking some of the magic that goes into presenting spectacle on a stage. This is where the audience completes the image. It is up to them what they see, so why not let them do the imagining for you? This isn't groundbreaking territory, in fact it has been considered life blood to theatre practitioners for many many years. This was a production that relied heavily on this. There were only three set pieces used for the duration of the show, one of which was an unfurnished table. It is up to the audience to picture it as a table, a bed or a bench in a locker room. It is also up to the audience to picture the entire setting, whether it may be the house party in which most of Act 2 took place or a school. Giving this audience the freedom of expression allowed them to be involved somewhat. However the events of the play were fixed. The audience did not have such freedom. This lack of control would've left the audience feeling helpless when some of the more bleak occasions of the show occurred. Within the first ten minutes of the show, the audience held witness to an example of the worst case of school bullying. They were at the edge of the performance, feeling the guilt that many of the onlookers in the script had; but they were not thrown in, were they thrown in their actions would've determined the outcome.


       I introduced myself here with somebody else's quote, now I leave you with my own. By no means groundbreaking, simply summarising what I have learnt through the experience. You do not watch immersive theatre, you feel it.

I would like you all to meet Anna

        It's been a while since I've been here. The last two years or so since I've updated you on my theatrical pursuits have seen me working for a year and completing my degree. It has been a period abounding with self learning and exciting times. I have learnt a lot about what I want to do with my life and have made great friends along the way. I barely recognise the innocent student with aspirations of being a director that was me two years ago.

But alas, this blog is not about my personal life. So without further ado, on to the drama.

        My return to directing came over the previous year. This project was entirely different to my previous ones; not only was it material that I was familiar with, but it was material that I'd written. This once in a lifetime opportunity came along when Bath University Student Theatre (BUST) opened applications for their 2015/16 season. I was hesitant about applying at first. My play (then called Black Prom) was a dark homage to modern horror tackling bleak themes such as mental health, bullying and physical abuse; hardly a feel-good play with the benefits of a popular image. Publicising such a show would be incredibly difficult. However, it seems that these challenges were considered to be something we could overcome for this show. The moment I found out that Black Prom had been selected is somewhat shady in my mind, at the time I was on an 11 hour train journey from Southampton to Criccieth and I drew a few eyes from my excitement. Most of the other passengers must've thought I was fangirling as not long after, Josh Widdicombe turned up on the train. Being a big fan of Mock the Week, I've always seen some irony in that his sudden appearance was only a minor impression on my excitement that day. But anyway, I digress...

        With this revelation, the next challenge presented itself. I now had a deadline to finish the script. This is something that I couldn't have done without the support of my friends. It's true what they say about being your own worst critic, that's something that was so much more profound for me knowing that this script was going to go beyond a pass-time rambling. Many of my closest friends read version after version and gave feedback, this allowed me to separate doubt from self-evaluation. I have nothing but gratituity for anybody who read through each script, especially early on when I was worriyng that the early drafts were too long. One major breakthrough was when I began networking with professional playwrights during the summer and managed to get some feedback from one of them on my script, this is where I picked up on what I consider the script's biggest flaw.

        Some of my favourite scenes to write were the interview scenes between junior investigator John Torrance and the mother of the sole survivor, Eleanor Padler. These scenes became a framing device for the story and a point of view was given in John. Although these scenes were identified as being irrelevant and not linked to the story in any way. This was a huge knock to my confidence in the script, I loved these scenes and I now faced the prospect of deleting them. Further discussions came and went and then somebody suggested that John should have more in connection to the events rather than just being an onlooker. This was the goldmine I had been looking for, the first thing that came to mind was that one of the characters who died during the events of the play was his son. This idea didn't make it to any draft, I was reluctant to use plotpoints that the audience would've expected. My next idea was that he had reasons to find out more about the events, which is why I introduced Anna's diary. This joined the dots, we now had a link between John and the house fire in which he was so desparate to solve. Other changes that I made included two characters, Chrissie and Tate, who were young lovers, one a violent thug, the other an insecure schoolgirl who acted out for attention. I spent a lot of time working on these scenes to make it clear who holds the upper hand and to show how Tate unwound Chrissie.

        With these changes, came a new story with an irrelevant title, so Black Prom became Anna. The story gave the impression that it was about the investigation into a house fire, truly it was about a bullied girl who wanted to overcome all her hurdles on the track and to be in line with everybody else. These changes were merely the sanding of the edges, many more changes were made in between then and the actual show.

        September came along and it was about time that I moved back to Bath to complete my degree, and get the ball rolling on the actual production. From booking stage crew to visiting the venue, the developments were rife during this period. It was then that our poster was born. Credits to BUST's publicity officer at the time, Ben Cochrane.

        Seeing this poster for the first time was somewhat of a turning point. Stating the obvious, I could say that it made me realise that this was actually happening, which was true, but I also got a good idea for tone, and from one simple image was enough to turn the 68 pages into images in my head. My writing days were over, it was now time to become a director.

        I decided early on that I needed a production team. In writing Anna, I had not made an easy job for myself, I knew that I'd need somebody with experience with intense acting, somebody who could kick me into touch if I got ahead of myself with ideas, and somebody who could bring authority. There was also some guilty indulgence present there, I wanted to see how others would interpret my work. I was lucky enough to get two people who ticked every box. My co-director, Lydia Williams, had experience with National Youth Theatre and had done work on Artaud acting for her A-Levels. It was her idea to stage the play as a cross between the round and thrust, immersing the audience into the enviromnent of the story. I also found a lead producer in Zoe Vanezis, somebody with a wide array of experience in directing and had previously worked on plays of a similar nature to mine. Her perfect blend of enthusiasm and realism was an unfaltering drive to the style in which I decided to focus the play on.

        Auditions were the most difficult part of the process for me. So many people auditioned and the standard was incredibly high. Although the decision was made quickly, that's not to say that it was an easy decision. I also had to turn down good friends who auditioned. That's something that never gets easier. However what I can say is that your perception of auditions changes completely when you sit on the other side of the table. I don't think I will ever feel the nerves that I used to feel before auditons as a result, knowing how you are perceived to the directors. True, audition nerves are never non-existent, but I no longer walk into auditions seeing panelists judging you with the upmost expectation. They look forward to your performance and enjoy them regardless of the outcome.

        The next stage was rehearsals. A lot changed during this period, whilst Zoe was getting a production team together who would sort out publicity, props and costumes, Lydia and I began putting scenes together. This was a crucial time as we were learning what worked and what didn't work. Scenes were cut, dialogue was tweaked. It was now where I needed to be held back from some of my more extravagent ideas, the play was brought to life in a naturalistic, minimalist fashion; then I would have moments of garish artistic license which required the audience to suspend disbelief. This is why I needed a production team who could see sense and help me overcome these ideas. The truth is, when you're involved in the artistic side of theatre, the word "cut" becomes commonplace. If it doesn't make sense, you have to cut it, no matter how impressive or artistic it is. One thing I noticed is that rewrites became easier after seeing a performance. Writing new dialogue seemed to flow better when you knew how your characters functioned. Seeing performances in rehearsals gave me a more rounded impression of these characters I'd created, and I found myself learning more about them at every rehearsal.

       The cast was absolutely unbelievable, in a good way of course. They were patient, enthusiastic, and were able to become their characters with little effort at all. At times I found myself overwhelmed by this, in good ways and bad ways. Seeing Anna come to life hit me in a way that I never thought was possible, although during some of the more difficult scenes I found it difficult to differentiate between stellar performances and genuine discomfort. Could that be me being overprotective of my cast? Maybe, I do hold them close to my heart, and seeing how they bonded and became good friends during rehearsals made the whole experience even more worthwhile.

        With the good times, there were of course bad times. Say this to anybody involved in Anna and the first thing we'll mention will be the tech and dress, what could've been an afternoon's work went on from 3pm to 5am the next morning.

        Things go wrong all the time, so at first we were unphased by a delayed starting time. Nobody involved was to blame, but as the rehearsal dragged on and on, it was very easy to dispair. You could say that this was a fate worse than living the events of the play? At a push maybe, but I don't like to moan. Equipped with a Wagamama's takeaway and copious amounts of caffeine, we began putting the play together with set pieces and special effects. The issue we had was that certain scenes didn't work out the way we thought they would, changes were inevitable. Although annoying for everybody involved, it was these small changes that saved the show from looking unpolished. I think I can safely say that everybody was relieved when it was over.

When we got into bed, it wasn't long before we woke up for our first performance.

        Sitting in the audience as a director and playwright was a nerve-wracking experience. It is always nerve-wracking to see something that you create to deviate slightly from the plan. Luckily such events were few and far between. Every show again became a rehearsal for the closing night, where we were able to take notes on what worked and what didn't work, audience feedback helped refine the play as well. Closing night we were met with applause from a sold-out performance. Audience impression was strongly focused towards how relatable it was. However, it was interesting to see how everybody interpreted the ending differently, when Anna grieves the loss of her mother. It makes me wonder if literacy greats were still around these days, wouldn't they be enthused by listening to what our English teachers used to tell us about them in class? Of course, it wasn't without criticism, but that was a valuable lesson for me.

Next came the aftershow. What can I say? We drank, we celebrated. Piece of cake!

        Now the question some of you may have in mind now is this: "Is this the end of the story?". The answer is not at all. Now that my degree is over and done with, I have returned to the script and have been making changes. The next step is the Bruntwood Prize for playwriting 2017. But entry doesn't open until January, so the story in between now and then is going to be a bit boring, just rewriting. For those of you who came to see the show, I am keen to find out what you thought. What worked? What didn't work? Don't be put off getting in touch with me to share your thoughts as even the more scathing reviews you can give will help me refine it. I want to know what you all thought. Because your opinions matter, it's all about the audience.

        I shall leave you now with a momentum of my times working on Anna with these amazing people. Thank you to all of you for helping me bring her to life. Here's to many more good times and theatrical/non-theatrical adventures to come!