Flesh and Bone E-Book

Elliot Warren

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Serie: NHB Modern Plays
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 76

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

A vivid and fast-paced ride through a working-class London estate, fusing Shakespeare-inspired lyricism with Cockney accents. First seen at the Etcetera Theatre, London, in December 2016, Elliot Warren's play Flesh and Bone moved to the Pleasance Dome at the 2017 Edinburgh Festival Fringe (where it won a Fringe First, amongst other awards), and subsequently to the Adelaide Fringe (where it was overall winner of the Best Theatre Award) and Soho Theatre, London, in 2018. Flesh and Bone won the 2019 Olivier Award for Outstanding Achievement in Affiliate Theatre.

Leseprobe

Elliot Warren

FLESHAND BONE

A story created byElliot Warren & Olivia Brady

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Original Production

Introduction

Thanks

Dedication

Characters

Note on Text

Flesh and Bone

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

Flesh and Bone was first performed by Unpolished Theatre at The Etcetera Theatre, London, in December 2016. In early 2017 Unpolished received the Charlie Hartill Special Reserve Fund from the Pleasance Theatre and went on to have a sell-out run at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 2017 at the Pleasance Theatre, where it won three awards including a Scotsman Fringe First for outstanding new writing. It was then developed at the National Theatre Studio before travelling to the Adelaide Fringe Festival in Australia and winning the Overall Best Theatre Award and a Critics’ Circle Award. It then transferred to Soho Theatre, London, in July 2018. The cast was as follows:

TERRENCE

Elliot Warren

KELLY

Olivia Brady

REISS

Michael Jinks

GRANDAD

Nick T Frost

JAMAL

Alessandro Babalola

Directors

Elliot Warren & Olivia Brady

Introduction

Elliot Warren

Every Christmas my grandad’s sister, Joanie, would throw a big old ‘do’ at her house in Stepney. It was one of those befitting, white townhouses around a green. It would be dark early and cars would pull up and members of the family would usher one another to the door, dressed to the nines in suits and evening dresses, greeted by an onslaught of kisses and hugs and little cheek-slaps. Think Robert De Niro in Goodfellas, only nobody is slipping tenners into anyone’s jacket pockets.

Our family is big and no one could ever move once you were inside, we were packed tightly into the corridors, the kitchen, the living room. A riot of mini-conversations rolling into one big burble of noise, a charming cacophony of familiar voices talking and laughing over one another, all with that East London weight on the words. Slade or The Pogues are singing out over the stereo and Joanie’s dishing out the most beautiful food, her famous sausages and potatoes. The lighting is warm and rich and people’s faces are rosy from all the booze. Marga with her lovely big ginger hair, Steven, Tracey, Uncle Keiron and Auntie Julie and my incredible mum laughing their heads off. Lorraine, Pat and Daisy-May, Peter in his tidy get-up and Terry and Alan with his divine kindness and sensational hugs and Martin and Vicky and Sara and Jack. All these brilliant and beautiful faces, convivial and happy, that I loved to see at Christmas.

Then my grandad, Farvey Bob, would walk in, a man that can wear a dressing gown and still uphold the look of some great and suave East-End King, and I’d think, ‘There’s the head of the family.’ In a suit with his gold jewellery, I’d feel so honoured to be that man’s grandson. With Farvey came my wonderful nan and my uncles (both my age, something I shan’t bother to explain), Robert and Jake, brothers to me, whom I love dearly, may Jake rest in peace. Once that lot were packed into the gaff the night was complete in my eyes.

There would be this great big present-giving ceremony where about fifty people would clamber into the living room and give out gifts, there was a richness to it all, so much character in one bustling environment. I don’t think there was ever a moment of silence.

We would leave, late, I’d be in the car next to my mum or whoever was the designated driver, asleep, rolling through London at night in December, with Tony Bennett playing quietly on the radio.

The spectacular energy those parties accomplished keeps those memories so vivid for me. They had such a profound and touching effect.

Thanks to my family I’ve always wanted to write about the array of characters the East End spawns.

The first draft of Flesh and Bone was written in a month inside mine and Olivia’s bedroom in Dalston. With it came our theatre company too, Unpolished Theatre. We had booked The Etcetera, Camden, before pen was put to paper so we needed to get cracking as we gave ourselves two months to get the whole thing done, dusted and on stage.

We were auditioning actors in our ‘lovely’ kitchen before the script was anywhere near finished, with one elderly chap telling me my writing made no sense which was terrifying at the time as nobody else had seen the bloody thing! We made almost every actor a cuppa when they entered, and Olivia and I upheld the pretence that we knew precisely what we were doing at all times.

The second month was for rehearsals. I pulled in favours left, right and centre to get rehearsal spaces, cracking PR shots, a trailer, a top-notch illustrator and I did all of the marketing myself. I became Unpolished Theatre’s self-professed hype-man, plastering social media with our black, white and orange pictures I’d knocked up. The whole thing went quickly and our two-week run at The Etcetera felt like standing atop a mountain, even if there was the odd night with only two or three audience members…

The following year, 2017, a deluge of opportunities were there to be seized. We fought hard and received the Pleasance Theatre’s Charlie Hartill Fund which took us to the Edinburgh Fringe. It was there where we performed with so much gusto, passion and energy that we won a Scotsman Fringe First for outstanding new writing, a sell-out show award and an award to perform at the Adelaide Fringe Festival, which meant we got to jet off to Australia in 2018. Returning to London, we got to develop the show at the National Theatre Studios and secured a transfer to Soho Theatre. It all felt a long way away from the intimate confides of The Etcetera with our modest audiences.

It’s been a ride, a white-knuckle one, corkscrewing at full-throttle through the outskirts and into the hustle and bustle of an industry I want to keep climbing. I have never been more proud of a piece of work than this one yet. Just like my family of East-Enders, the characters in this play come alive with rollicking beauty and we fought hard to be seen and heard every time we fired out onto the stage, something that lends itself to the attitude of this play.

My grandad saw the show, sat right at the bloody front with his walking stick, in his suit, with all his gold on. Afterwards, he came out and he said: ‘How the bleedin’ hell did you write all that, boy?’

Thanks

To my mum, Anne Murtaugh, for your unlimited love and for bigging up the play to anyone with a pair of ears, even when there was only a couple of sentences.

To my dad, Warren Murtaugh, for the phone calls packed with advice, ideas and inspiration.

To Clodagh Wallace and Judith Tunstall for the love, support and for that fateful evening that made all of this possible.

To Sue Odell for your persistent belief, your unwaivering optimism and your support.

To Alessandro Babalola, Nick T Frost and Michael Jinks for your exceptional work and infinite confidence in this show.

To the Pleasance Theatre and their Charlie Hartill Fund for believing in the show and taking us to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. Especially Anthony Alderson and the fantastic Heather Rose, you are the business.

To the Acting Tutors of the Arts University Bournemouth who taught us to stand up and be counted for within this gigantic industry.

And to the incredibly multitalented Olivia Brady for creating this world and this story with me.

E.W.

For my grandad, Farvey Bob, and the rest of my beautiful family

Characters

TERRENCE

KELLY

REISS

GRANDAD

JAMAL

Notes on Text

This text is an extended version of the original play.

The following is performed with bestial fire. You will take on these souls with spirit. Taste every word, wear their despairs, revel in their delights, these vigorous vibes must be pronounced with a sharp tongue and an even flow. Embody them with salient showmanship for now be the time these dregs will articulate their calamities. A breed seen as unfit for vocation will deliver with gusto, you will rattle the house in which you play.

This ebook was created before the end of rehearsals and so may differ slightly from the play as performed.

Prologue

What a Piece of Work is a Man

A central spotlight. Smoke hangs in the air. A low rumble of guttural noise.

The stage is empty.

TERRENCE, wild-eyed yet ostensibly poised, takes centre stage.

The nerves around his eye twitch as he observes the audience with dangerous intent.

Our characters speak with virile eloquence.