The Last Noël (NHB Modern Plays) E-Book

Chris Bush

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

'We'll tell the same old stories, all over again. And we won't complain. Because it's Christmas.' It's Christmas Day, sort of, and Alice, Mike and Tess – three generations of the one family – are busy preparing a feast, singing songs, spinning yarns and squabbling about snacks… like only a close family can. But someone is missing from the table. Telling their stories in turns, and breaking off for the odd musical interlude, the family pass the time waiting for Tess's mum to arrive. As they do, we see a picture of how one family forms its traditions – and how those traditions matter most when there are problems on the horizon. The Last Noël by Chris Bush is a funny, moving, uplifting play with original songs. An innovative festive drama, it captures the unique bonds of family and how coming together to share stories and a meal can be a modern Christmas miracle. It was first produced in 2019 by Attic Theatre Company and Arts at the Old Fire Station on a tour of venues around London, before a Christmas run at the Old Fire Station in Oxford.

Leseprobe

Chris Bush

THE LAST

NOËL

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Original Production

Dedication

Foreword

Characters

The Last Noël

Music

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

The Last Noël was was first performed at the Merton Arts Space at the Wimbledon Library on 22 November 2019. It transferred to the Old Fire Station, Oxford, on 4 December 2019.

TESS

Anna Crichlow

MIKE

Dyfrig Morris

ALICE

Annie Wensak

Director

Jonathan Humphreys

Musical Arrangements, Director

Matt Winkworth

Designer

Alison Neighbour

Lighting Designer

Lucy Adams

Movement Director

Annie-Lunnette Deakin-Foster

Stage Manager

Tessa Gaukroger

Technical Manager

Rachel Luff

Theatre Technician

Cassie White

Producer for Attic

Victoria Hibbs

Producer for AOFS

Alexandra Coke

For Mum

Foreword

I’ve wanted to write a Christmas show for years, for the simple reason that Christmas is magic: however old and cynical I get I don’t think that will ever change. It’s also, for me, a holiday detached from any religious significance, but one steeped in ritual all the same. Now is not the time for revolution or reinvention (let’s keep those promises for New Year), but instead it’s when we build upon and refine the traditions we’ve spent a lifetime developing. We all have our own seasonal idiosyncrasies, and while they might seem absurd to outsiders, to forsake them would be unthinkable. So, this year I will bake biscotti for my family, I will drink expensive cocktails with my friend Lucy that neither of us can afford, I will read from a book of Jeanette Winterson short stories each night before bed (I know, I’m insufferable, but let me have this). I shall overeat and watch Robbie the Reindeer and fight a losing battle for a tastefully decorated tree.

My perfect Yuletide might not look anything like yours, but ‘perfect’ has no place here anyway. Christmas is messy in the way that love is messy, and people are messy (and festive craft projects that looked totally feasible on Pinterest are messy). If The Last Noël is a show about the true meaning of Christmas, at first glance this might appear to boil down to alcohol, arguments and preposterously flavoured seasonal crisps, but of course there’s more to it than that. It’s about hope and song and keeping a lantern burning. It’s about a family trying to tell the story of who they are through the traditions they’ve built together. It’s about the pull of the familiar and the inevitability of change.

Christmas is for family, but family can mean anything. If we’re lucky, it’s the time of year where we get to gather together the people we love and celebrate with them. One of the beautiful things about touring this show around community spaces and then settling in at The Old Fire Station is we can try and break down some of the more formal barriers associated with a night out at the theatre. As these rooms open their doors to us, we in turn offer you a seat at our table. We’ll dim the lights and tell you a story (or three), and hopefully emerge a little closer by the time we’re done. We can all be family for the hour or so we spend together, and that might just be the best gift I can offer.

Merry Christmas.

Chris Bush

November 2019