How to meet your hero (and keep your childhood intact…)

bros

Bros are back, Back BACK!! and the world unites in celebration. A whole generation of 80s children (well, maybe a small sliver of a tiny British slice of one) will have been propelled back into their teenage selves at the news, and that tidal wave of nostalgic feelings will lift them up and carry them, purses open, all the way to the Ticketmaster website.

Most of us idolise performers as we grow up. We can all remember covering the walls of our childhood bedrooms with posters of our favourite singers and actors, and we’ve all fantasised about meeting them, and becoming their friends. I used to dream about meeting the Beatles (all four of them; how on earth this could have happened in 1987, I don’t know) and being asked if I’d like to join the group. Who knows what they could have achieved if I’d been there too… Of course, sometimes this strays into rather less healthy stalker territory, but for most of us, it stays within the normal bounds and is just another part of childhood. And as much as we cling to the hope that our longed-for meeting will happen and we will be whisked off to a glamorous and exciting new life, deep down we know how unlikely this is. The years roll on, and those crushes and fantasies fade away, the posters are taken down and put away with the gonks and Smurfs. Outside attending an enormo-gig at the O2 or Wembley, most of us will never share the same air as our heroes.

There will be the odd exception to this rule, of course – there’s always an outside chance you will stumble across one in the real world. I remember being in the menswear department of House of Fraser and seeing none other than Jimmy Page – Jimmy Actual Page – presumably shopping for something a bit more day-to-day than his dragon-embroidered trousers or rune-covered jerkins of yore.

jimmy-page

In that situation, there is a quick decision to be made. Do I allow the all-conquering rock God to track down that pair of comfy elasticated Gant slacks in peace, or do I barrel over there and invade his personal space, biro and crumpled Sainsbury’s receipt thrust forward ready to be signed? In this case, I left Mr Zeppelin alone, and it was probably for the best. These things can go one of two ways, after all… There can be nothing worse than launching yourself at the hero of your youth and being told to bugger off. In that brief moment, your happy childhood dreams are blown to smithereens.

However, for some of us, things are a bit different. If you somehow scrabble your way into the same profession as your childhood heroes, your chances of meeting them, and, indeed, working with them, increase massively (or dramatically, if you’ll forgive the pun). This is where things can get dangerous, as they suddenly stop being superhuman. You can even find yourself sharing a dressing room with them, and as we all know, there’s nothing more effective than that for finding out what someone’s really like. As you progress through an acting career, more and more of what you hear – or discover for yourself – shows you that all those towering  idols of your youth are just as depressingly human and normal as you are. Feet of clay, every one.

There is also the sobering thought that, even if you did want to work with those people, the chances to do so are diminishing with every passing year. I’ll never work with Christopher Lee or Peter Cushing now, will I?

Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee

Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee

But recently, the chance to meet and work with my ultimate childhood hero fell squarely in my lap…

Allow me to take you back in time. If you had happened to stumble across me in 1977, you would have met a small boy obsessed with ‘Dr Who’. Saturday evenings at 6.15pm would invariably find me transfixed on (or frequently, behind) the sofa, as that iconic title sequence unfolded on BBC1:

The succeeding 30 minutes were probably the most important of the week for me. I had been watching the programme for a couple of years by this point, and now, at the age of five, my devotion to the show was absolute. I loved it all: the monsters, the sets and props, the music – but at the centre of it all was the Doctor himself, as played by Tom Baker:

tom-1977

The idea of travelling through time and space with this extraordinary alien – someone funny and eccentric and brave, who could face down the most terrifying monsters with nothing more dangerous than a jelly baby, seemed the perfect life to me. Like all superfans, I had the posters on my wall, the novelisations and annuals, the long scarf (albeit brown rather than multi-coloured and stripey), and the TARDIS pencil case. I even went to our Silver Jubilee street party dressed as a Dalek:

Self as Dalek c 1977

My best-ever Christmas present came in 1979 – a signed photograph from Mr Baker himself. ‘Happy Christmas, Christopher’.
What I wanted most of all, of course, was to meet the great man. I suppose I must have thought that it was a possibility; ideally, he would enlist me to help him defeat some horrible alien creature – a Rutan, perhaps:

rutan

or a Krynoid:

krynoid-1

– but I would have been happy enough if he had simply landed his TARDIS in my back garden, offered me a jelly baby and dematerialised again. However, it was also the beginning of an awareness that, as well as day—dreaming of being a real Time Lord’s assistant, I could conceivably appear in the television programme ‘Dr Who’ as an actor. Around the same time, I saw ‘Star Wars’ and started to think about what it might be like on a film set, and to pretend to be someone else. So it was a pretty significant time as far as determining my future career was concerned. Later on, James Bond joined in, and Sherlock Holmes, and then Shakespeare popped up – and on and on…

But Dr Who was where it all started – and, for me, that always meant Tom Baker. This wonderful actor personified the character in a way that, in my opinion, no other incarnation before or since has managed to do.

Of course, Tom Baker’s tenure as the Doctor came to an end in 1981, and so did my fixation with the show. I moved on to new obsessions (the afore-mentioned martini-swilling super-spy being foremost amongst them). The Doctor always hovered somewhere in the background – he was even the subject of a recent painting of mine:

IMG_2739

(prints available here, print fans)… But once Tom left the show, it was never the same.

I did once actually meet the great man, on Chiswick High Road, and he patiently listened while I attempted to put into words what he had meant to me. It was just a brief encounter, but I was still thrilled by it, and I suppose I would have been happy if that had been that.

But, for once, the acting gods decided to smile upon on me, and one day not too long ago, to my amazement and joy, my agent called with an offer to appear in a new ‘Dr Who’ adventure – with none other than Tom Baker himself as the eponymous hero. I have had many calls from my agent – some of them happy, many of them not so happy – but this will probably always remain the happiest.

The offer had come from that estimable company, Big Finish, who specialise in producing wonderful new audio adventures featuring many of the best-loved genre characters and series of the past – ‘Blake’s 7’, ‘Sherlock Holmes’, ‘The Avengers’ and ‘The Prisoner’ amongst many others. But they are best known for their original ‘Dr Who’ stories, featuring many of the surviving Doctors.

big-finish

For years, including the period when the Time Lord was off our TV screens, Big Finish has kept the ‘Dr Who’ torch alive, creating wonderful new adventures in Time and Space. Initially, Tom Baker resisted a return to the role that made him famous, but since 2012 he has enthusiastically donned the scarf once more.

When the first day of recording came, I was very nervous, more than normal. I think my nerves came partly from a fear that I would embarrass myself in front of the great man: give a bad performance, make a fool of myself by unleashing my inner fanboy – or worse, clam up and not be able to talk. Most of all, though, I think I was afraid that Tom Baker would let me down. What if he was a bully, a dreadful bigot or a monstrous egomaniac? My childhood memories would be stomped to pieces by the very man who made them: Dr Who himself.

Thankfully, none of the above came to pass. Tom was an utter delight. He was immediately welcoming to all the cast, an hilarious anecdote-teller in the green room (and generous in listening to others’ stories too), and best of all, when he was behind the microphone, he was still The Doctor. It was a strange and wonderful experience for me to hear that voice coming through my headphones – and for me to answer it. To call him ‘Doctor’ and have him respond! My five-year-old self could never have believed that one day, he would not only meet Dr Who, but actually act alongside him too…

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Tom Baker and Your Author, 2016

I met my hero – and he is still my hero. What a relief.

jelly-baby

Jelly baby, anyone?

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Poetry readings – #1: Sonnet 60 by William Shakespeare

Time for the first in a new series of poetry readings, beginning with Shakespeare’s sonnet 60, which I first performed for the estimable Guildford Shakespeare Company, as part of their Sonnet Walk earlier this year in celebration of the Bard’s work, 400 years after his death:

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown’d,
Crooked eclipses ‘gainst his glory fight,
And Time, that gave, doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

Portrait: #4 – Tom Baker

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Tom Baker was, in the guise of Doctor Who, the true hero of my childhood. From 1974 to 1981 he was, in my opinion, the ultimate embodiment of the BBC’s Time Lord – utterly eccentric, mercurial and unpredictable, but still filled with compassion, warmth and humour. An alien and a human at the same time.

He has gone on to enjoy a chequered career – he played Sherlock Holmes in ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’ for the BBC, he provided the voice of BT’s spoken text message service, and gloriously, he played the insane, piratical sea captain Redbeard Rum in ‘Blackadder II’:

But to me, and millions of others, he will always be The Doctor.

Jelly baby, anyone?

Who am I today?

Sometimes, as an actor, it would be very easy to develop an identity crisis. Over the past few weeks I have been an ER doctor, a police internal affairs officer, a sleazy Tory MP, a museum visitor, a disgruntled airline passenger, a fisherman, a Vietnam veteran and a snooty restaurant critic. My life has been not unlike an entire season of ‘Quantum Leap’:

I am talking about auditions, of course. An actor’s existence can be bewildering, to say the least, because our impulse is to fully invest in every role, even if we only inhabit it for ten minutes in a Soho casting suite. Every good actor will have done her research before the meeting – who is the director? What’s the accent, the physicality, the context of the play? Who is the casting director and – crucially – have I met them before? (This gets harder to remember as the years go by, especially as they are often the ones you pay least attention to in a meeting, your attention being focused on the director and whichever actor is reading in.)

Inevitably, as you prepare, you will start thinking yourself into a part. Even if, on a first reading, the character might seem a million miles away from your normal casting, you can’t help climbing into it to see how it fits. After a second pass over the script, you start to find a voice emerging, and an attitude, and by the third or fourth reading you have convinced yourself that you were born to play the role. It is only a short hop from here to the dangerous waters of planning how you’re going to spend the fee, and what you’re going to wear at the premiere of the Spielberg film you will be cast in as a direct result of this two-line part on ‘Casualty’.

Acting is mostly about dreaming, after all. We were the ones who sat in class gazing out of the window, imagining ourselves piloting X-Wing Fighters or invisible planes…

Luke Skywalkerwonder woman

…and now we we have to keep dreaming. Any performance is kept aloft by imagination – it’s like a magic trick, really, a feat of self-hypnosis. We have to believe we are the character, or the whole enterprise will fall out of the sky.

So it is only right and proper for an actor to walk into the audition room thinking he is the part – we need to be buoyed up by that fluffy cloud of imagination just to get through the door.

The hard bit comes when we don’t get the part, of course, and we have to let it go. All those half-formed characters drift away, often never to be seen again, and we have to move on and forget we ever knew them. Mostly we don’t give them so much as a backward glance, but for all of us there will be some parts it is harder to say goodbye to. I coulda been a great sleazy Tory…

 

 

 

Portrait: #3 – Christopher Lee

Christopher Lee by Chris Naylor 2016
Christopher Lee was a giant of the cinema in more ways than one. Of course, his 6’5” stature put him very literally head and shoulders above most other actors, but he was also one of only a few in the profession to achieve international fame through association with a particular role.

Lee was one of my great childhood heroes. This was partly because I shared a first name with him, but also because he was the ultimate embodiment of one of my obsessions, namely Count Dracula. The very fact that I have chosen to paint him as he appeared in this role would probably have irritated him enormously, as he frequently expressed frustration at being associated with the vampire king, and could be scornful about the later Hammer films in particular.

Bur despite this, he will always be Dracula to me, and to millions of film-goers the world over. The image of Lee striding through his castle, his eyes glowing red and his cloak billowing behind him will always thrill me.

The History Boys and Girls

Your humble author and Philippa Waller in Stephen Jeffrey's 'Hard Times' at the Watermill Theatre, 2000. Dir. Guy Retallack

Your humble author and Philippa Waller in Stephen Jeffrey’s ‘Hard Times’ at the Watermill Theatre, 2000. Dir. Guy Retallack

Ah, ‘Hard Times’! What a show that was. Watermill Theatre, year 2000, Guy Retallack directing, wonderful cast. If only I could go back and do it again. But that’s one of the tragedies of a stage actor’s life. Theatre is a transient, fleeting thing. No matter how wonderful your performance might have been, no matter how successful the production, as soon as the curtain falls on the last night, it is nothing but a memory. There is no way to recapture the feelings you had, or the magic spell the show cast over its audience. John Gielgud used to bemoan the fact that he couldn’t revisit his old performances, or, as he put it, (to be read in the great man’s voice) ‘Awake in the night and admire it as it sat on the mantelpiece’.

These days, of course, many theatre performances are professionally filmed, and these screenings are a great way for people to see shows they might otherwise miss. But they never really capture the thrill of being in the same room as the actors – that intangible frisson that happens when the lights go down. Theatre is a true shared experience – the audience has as much influence on how the show goes as the director does; it is implicated.

There is no real way of bottling this particular genie, but I think some of the magic of a stage performance is best presented in a still image. It’s a far more subtle way of spying on a show, sneaking a peek at the actors at work. A great theatre photograph can convey so much about a production.

And there is a noble and fascinating history to the art. Lord Snowdon’s wonderful theatre images, for example, are an essential addition to the shelves of anyone interested in British theatre.

I recently stumbled across a wonderful book called ‘Theatre Year’, one of a series of books published in the late 70s and early 80s, which featured the work of a master of the art of theatre photography, Donald Cooper.

Theatre Year 1983

Along with fascinating overviews of the year’s work by the supremely knowledgeable critic Michael Coveney, they documented the notable productions of a particular year, in this case, 1981-82, and are hugely evocative of their time. There are some wonderful images here, which make me nostalgic for a time before I was regularly attending the theatre. There is a slightly cautionary aspect – many of the photographs come from shows I have never even heard about, and are filled with actors whose names I don’t recognise. In another 30 years’ time, if my photograph appears in such a compendium, will anyone know who I was?

Here is a brief selection of some of the most interesting shots from ‘Theatre Year’ – all are copyright of the photographer Donald Cooper, and I include them purely for reference. A far more extensive selection of his extraordinary images can be found at www.photostage.co.uk.

A wonderful cast for the first production of Caryl Churchill’s ‘Top Girls’ at the Royal Court:

Lindsay Duncan, Gwen Taylor and Selina Cadell in Caryl Churchill's 'Top Girls' at the Royal Court. Dir. Max Stafford-Clark. © Donald Cooper

Lindsay Duncan, Gwen Taylor and Selina Cadell in Caryl Churchill’s ‘Top Girls’ at the Royal Court. Dir. Max Stafford-Clark. © Donald Cooper

‘Oi For England’ at the Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, by Trevor Griffiths – part of the Young People’s Play Scheme. The play was also filmed. A young Paul McGann can be seen at the left:

Paul McGann, Dorian Healy, Robin Hayter and Peter Lovstrom in 'Oi For England' by Trevor Griffiths, Royal Court Theatre Upstairs. Dir. Antonia Bird. © Donald Cooper

Paul McGann, Dorian Healy, Robin Hayter and Peter Lovstrom in ‘Oi For England’ by Trevor Griffiths, Royal Court Theatre Upstairs. Dir. Antonia Bird. © Donald Cooper

A future James Bond as Hotspur, in Trevor Nunn’s production of ‘Henry IV part 1’ for the RSC at the Barbican. Hal is played by the amazing (and sadly missed) Gerard Murphy:

Gerard Murphy and Timothy Dalton in 'Henry IV part 1' at the Barbican/RSC. Dir. Trevor Nunn. © Donald Cooper

Gerard Murphy and Timothy Dalton in ‘Henry IV part 1’ at the Barbican/RSC. Dir. Trevor Nunn. © Donald Cooper

The first production of Julian Mitchell’s ‘Another Country’ at the Queen’s Theatre brought us the West End debuts of two remarkable actors:

Rupert Everett and Kenneth Branagh in 'Another Country' by Julian Mitchell at the Queen's Theatre. Dir. Stuart Burge. © Donald Cooper

Rupert Everett and Kenneth Branagh in ‘Another Country’ by Julian Mitchell at the Queen’s Theatre. Dir. Stuart Burge. © Donald Cooper

– and here’s a wonderful bit of archive footage from Newsnight, with Joan Bakewell interviewing  Mitchell and his two leads:

Peter Hall’s epic ‘Oresteia’ at the National:

Peter Hall's production of 'The Oresteia' by Aeschylus at the Olivier, National Theatre. © Donald Cooper

Peter Hall’s production of ‘The Oresteia’ by Aeschylus at the Olivier, National Theatre. © Donald Cooper

‘Boogie!’, or to give it its full title, ‘Boogie Woogie Bubble ‘N’ Squeak!’ – a pastiche musical about girl vocal trios – starred Sarah McNair, who later became one of London’s top literary agents:

'Boogie Woogie Bubble 'N' Squeak' devised and performed by Sarah McNair, Michele Maxwell and Leonie Hofmeyr at the Mayfair Theatre. Dir. Stuart Hopps. © Donald Cooper

‘Boogie Woogie Bubble ‘N’ Squeak’ devised and performed by Sarah McNair, Michele Maxwell and Leonie Hofmeyr at the Mayfair Theatre. Dir. Stuart Hopps. © Donald Cooper

This must have been extraordinary – Paul Scofield as Don Quixote, with the wonderful Tony Haygarth as his Sancho Panza:

Paul Scofield and Tony Haygarth in 'Don Quixote de la Mancha' at the Oliver, National Theatre. Dir. Bill Bryden. © Donald Cooper

Paul Scofield and Tony Haygarth in ‘Don Quixote de la Mancha’ at the Oliver, National Theatre. Dir. Bill Bryden. © Donald Cooper

Helen Mirren and Michael Gambon together in ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ for the RSC – can you imagine! I saw Ms Mirren return to the part at the National Theatre 15 years later, with Alan Rickman as her Antony. An extraordinary actress:

Michael Gambon and Helen Mirren in 'Antony and Cleopatra' at The Other Place/RSC. Dir. Adrian Noble. © Donald Cooper

Michael Gambon and Helen Mirren in ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ at The Other Place/RSC. Dir. Adrian Noble. © Donald Cooper

Finally, Robert David Macdonald’s play ‘Summit Conference’ imagines Hitler and Mussolini’s respective lovers, Eva Braun and Clara Petacci, meeting and clashing in Berlin. What an impressive line-up here – and a reminder of the magnetism of Glenda Jackson:

Gary Oldman, Georgina Hale and Glenda Jackson in 'Summit Conference' at the Lyric Theatre. Dir. Philip Prowse. © Donald Cooper

Gary Oldman, Georgina Hale and Glenda Jackson in ‘Summit Conference’ at the Lyric Theatre. Dir. Philip Prowse. © Donald Cooper

These wonderful books can still be found out there, and I’d encourage you to seek them out – they are surprisingly inspiring. Wouldn’t it be good if we could revive the concept?

Interview with the Director: Jake Murray

jake murray

Jake Murray was Associate Artistic Director at the Manchester Royal Exchange Theatre from 2001 to 2007. Alongside founder James Roose-Evans, he runs Frontier Theatre Productions, which aims to explore work dealing with the ‘Third Age’, or in other words, the period of life from 60 onwards. I interviewed Jake while researching this article for the British Theatre Guide about how the theatre world views older actors, but his responses were so insightful that I wanted to give them a bit more space…

Chris Naylor How did you get involved with Frontier?

Jake Murray I was invited to come on board a few years ago be a right hand man for James [Roose-Evans]. Finding him a kindred spirit and an inspirational person was part of why I said ‘yes’. The other main factor was a long-standing love for the late plays of so many great writers – Sophocles, Shakespeare, Ibsen – all of which dealt with life on such a profound and beautiful level. As these great writers drew to the end of their days, they tended to distil their life’s wisdom into these extraordinary works; they are their final testimonies, as it were. Not only are they theatrically remarkable (who can deny the brilliance of ‘Oedipus At Colonus’, ‘King Lear’ or ‘John Gabriel Borkman’?), but the depth of understanding is second to none. As I think that Theatre should be dealing with our lives on as profound a level as possible, working on such plays seemed the right thing to do.

CN What are you hoping to achieve with Frontier’s work?

JM We want to bear witness to the fact that the Third Age is as rich and profound as any other phase in our lives. In the past, old age was seen as a great achievement, a time of wisdom and understanding, Now, because being old is not economically productive, does not make you sexually attractive, and reminds us all of our mortality, we have drawn a veil over it. As a consequence, a vast amount of people have been made invisible, when in fact the only thing that is ‘old’ is their bodies. We must give them a voice. That, I think, is what we want to achieve.

'Mercy' in rehearsal

CN Have you found it easy to attract actors to Frontier?

JM So far, yes. There is a huge reservoir of older actors out there very keen for work. We forget that this was the 60s generation, who made up the mainstay of our theatre, TV and screen work for four or five decades and still has much to offer.

CN Is it frustrating to discover that a lot of good actors give up too soon? Does this make it harder to find enough good older actors to cast?

JM I work a lot in drama schools and the drop-out rate of actors who leave while still in their 20s is mortifying. The profession is more brutal than ever. There is far less work out there than there was, even when I started out in the 1990s, and people were complaining about a shrinking workplace even then. Even with the work that is out there, the chances of being paid decently are minimal, worse than ever, in fact. It’s horrible seeing huge numbers of talented young actors struggling to keep going. ’Too soon’ is now two or three years after leaving drama school for a lot of them, let alone in their 30s, 40s or 50s. It’s very tough. I often say to my students: ‘Keep going. If you are good and you don’t give up, you will eventually find work, because the drop out rate is such that people will be looking for actors in their 30s onwards more and more.’ But can people wait that long? But good older actors still wait to be asked, so hopefully we will find enthusiastic actors of those generations. So far we have!

CN It has traditionally been harder for women to find acting work as they get older – is this still the case?

JM Well, yes and no. The canon has always had more male roles than female. However brilliant Shakespeare was for women, there is only ever a maximum of five parts for actresses in his plays, as opposed to nine or ten minimum for men. Also, women have suffered from the ‘Juliet/ Nurse’ syndrome, whereby people only write parts for young women in their 20s or in their advanced years, with nothing in between. This was partly because women in their 30s and 40s tended to have children, and so came back to the stage when they were older. As a consequence, a whole area of women’s lives have not been documented on stage.

Helen McCrory as killer Medea ©Alastair Muir

But I think things are changing. There is more interest in great roles for actresses; there are more writers writing great parts for older women, as well as women in their middle years. The appearance of more female writers is an important factor, of course, as is the appearance of more women directors (there are more female Artistic Directors in British theatre than ever before, I’m pleased to say), but male directors are also exploring these parts. Last year we had Gillian Anderson, Helen McCrory and Kristin Scott Thomas all playing major classical roles. I have always loved working with older actresses, because the energy, passion and wisdom they bring to the stage is so great. I tell writers to write for women, especially older ones, as there will always be more talented women in the profession than men, and so their work will be produced. We need more and more of this. We at Frontier are very keen to help redress this balance.

CN Do you think there is a difference in the employment landscape for older actors in theatre, as opposed to TV/film?

mark hamill

JM There is an increasing presence for big movies that deal with the older experience. The Marigold Hotel films are a case in point, and movies like ‘Quartet’ and ‘Amour’. We have Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher and Mark Hamill about to take the screen again in the new Star Wars movie. Throw in the dreadful ‘Expendables’ movies and perhaps it’s fair to say that age is not a problem in cinema! I think when people love a screen actor they enjoy seeing them still doing it in their old age, especially if they can be playful with their image. I remember Kirk Douglas and Burt Lancaster having a ball in a movie called ‘Tough Guys’ back in the 80s, which really was fun to watch.

CN Is the entertainment industry directed too much towards younger people?

JM Yes. Cinema is aimed primarily at the 13-21 age group, which is why there are so many Marvel superhero movies nowadays. I’m in my 40s and I feel totally alienated from the cinema now. I’ve become bored with having to pretend I’m down with the kids and enjoy the latest Avengers movie. I don’t. They’re awful. But Hollywood & Entertainment is all driven by money and demographics. If producers think the money is in the ageing population, that’s where they will go.

CN Do you think the profession has an obligation to provide more casting opportunities for older actors? If so, where does the responsibility lie?

JM We have a responsibility to provide more casting opportunities for all generations of actors. Ultimately the responsibility lies with the people with the money. Its lack of resources that chokes off theatre. When you can’t pay your actors, or can only afford to pay two per show, you are killing theatre as an art by not allowing it to breathe. I am very against quotas in theatre, but I do think that if we want a healthy stage world, we must fund it. That responsibility must come from the State in our modern society. Commercial theatre takes care of its own, but if we want our theatre to also deal with real issues in a deeper way, we have to support it from non-commercial sources.

CN Would you agree that theatre is a pastime that generally appeals more to older people? If so, should plays be telling more stories about older people?

JM This is highly complex. It’s partly generational – theatre was part of the older generation’s landscape more, educational standards were higher and more wide ranging back in the day and theatre didn’t have to compete with Netflix, Playstation, Facebook etc. But there is still a strong, dedicated young theatre-going audience out there.

In the end we as theatre folk have to bear testament to the whole spectrum of human life: that means telling stories of all phases of age. One of the things Frontier wants to do is present intergenerational work. We don’t want plays which hive off the old into some kind of inward-looking box, but which show how the old relate to the young, and how generations can learn from each other. We live in an atomised society which lies to itself about ageing and the process of life, so people don’t know how to deal with it. Many young people feel the lack of nourishing connections with older people, especially when they are facing life’s problems. It’s important we talk about this in our work.

Frontier Theatre’s production of Clare Whitehead’s ‘Mercy’, directed by Jake Murray, is part of the EverHopeFull repertory season and runs from September 1st to the 26th at 6 Frederick’s Place, London EC2R 8AB. Tickets are priced at £10.