Hail Billy-ionaire !
The recent spat at The Bolshoi Ballet where a disgruntled dancer threw acid into the face of his director (allegedly) reminds me of my own sad times on the theatrical musical 'CATS.'
Fur often flies in rehearsals. It really is a cauldron of a melting pot. An artist's ego is like a speck of golddust that can often be trampled on by a clot footed, cloven heeled director.
Sir Trevor Nunn had asked me to bring my 'enormous talent' (his words, not mine) to the original conceiving of CATS. I was riding high on a crest of a wave with my own award winning avant garde dance troupe, THE BILLY ELLIOT DANCE COMPANY. We were like The Michael Clark Company but without the daftness.
I had never done any 'acting' before so I was humbled to star alongside such luminaries as Judy Dench, Frances Ruffelle (?) and Brian Blessed.
To be frank when Sir Trevor (Trev) and Lord Andrew (Lord Andrew) told me of their idea to put music to poems about cats I thought it had turkey written all over it.
But Sir Trevor and Lord Andrew both agreed that it was only I who could bring to life the character of the naughty alley cat with the Bavarian ancestry, 'Rumtumtigglehimler!'
As I said, I had never done any 'acting' before so I was amazed when at the first day rehearsals Sir Trevor told us that he wanted us all to BE cats. at which point his assistant, a waspish Terry Hands, brought in several bowls of milk and placed them around the 'space'.
'For the next few hours', qouth he,' you will be feline' and he flounced off.
The sight of Dame Judy lapping, purring and preening was a 'acting' masterclass and I believe has helped made me the actor I am today. I often draw on a that 'emotional recall technique' when I'm giving my my clown workshop for the 'Young at Heart Early Risers' (after 'Beginners Quoits') on the Upper Deck.
However I did draw the line when Sir Trevor put down a litter tray in the middle of the 'space' and Brian Blessed promptly defecated in it.
I decided Runtumtigglehimler rather liked having a fag by the bins outside stage door. It was here I SAVED THE NATIONAL THEATRE.
Dame Judy had joined me outside as she was craving a Lambert and Butler. This was after a gruelling morning chasing an imaginary giant ball of string around the 'space'.
'Billy.' La Dame said to me, 'that fecker Nunn has basically got me doing bolloxy skin work, in a furry leotard, whiskers and a self animated tail. Is this what my chuffin' career has come to?' She took a long drag on her ciggie and played with her fake ears, 'well stuff that for a bunch of soldiers, he can stick it up his catflap. I'm slingin' my butchers. I'd rather be on the game if this is the only work I get offered.'
I gazed at her for a long time between puffs, and placed a woolen paw on her shoulder, eventually I said, 'stick at it Judy.' She smiled. I could see she had resolved to carry on in this business we call show. She then coughed up a fur ball.
Would she have gone on to the play the Queen? Would she had got an Oscar? Would the Natonal Theatre have survived for 50 years if I hadn't intervened? We will never know. As Hamlet said, and he was no bad judge of actors, 'the rest is history'
Love one another
Billy x
Next week -
The inside story of my years on BILLY ELLIOT'S SUMMER SEASIDE
SPECIAL'
The recent spat at The Bolshoi Ballet where a disgruntled dancer threw acid into the face of his director (allegedly) reminds me of my own sad times on the theatrical musical 'CATS.'
Fur often flies in rehearsals. It really is a cauldron of a melting pot. An artist's ego is like a speck of golddust that can often be trampled on by a clot footed, cloven heeled director.
Sir Trevor Nunn had asked me to bring my 'enormous talent' (his words, not mine) to the original conceiving of CATS. I was riding high on a crest of a wave with my own award winning avant garde dance troupe, THE BILLY ELLIOT DANCE COMPANY. We were like The Michael Clark Company but without the daftness.
I had never done any 'acting' before so I was humbled to star alongside such luminaries as Judy Dench, Frances Ruffelle (?) and Brian Blessed.
To be frank when Sir Trevor (Trev) and Lord Andrew (Lord Andrew) told me of their idea to put music to poems about cats I thought it had turkey written all over it.
But Sir Trevor and Lord Andrew both agreed that it was only I who could bring to life the character of the naughty alley cat with the Bavarian ancestry, 'Rumtumtigglehimler!'
As I said, I had never done any 'acting' before so I was amazed when at the first day rehearsals Sir Trevor told us that he wanted us all to BE cats. at which point his assistant, a waspish Terry Hands, brought in several bowls of milk and placed them around the 'space'.
'For the next few hours', qouth he,' you will be feline' and he flounced off.
The sight of Dame Judy lapping, purring and preening was a 'acting' masterclass and I believe has helped made me the actor I am today. I often draw on a that 'emotional recall technique' when I'm giving my my clown workshop for the 'Young at Heart Early Risers' (after 'Beginners Quoits') on the Upper Deck.
 |
| Me entertaing the old folk on the cruise ship! |
However I did draw the line when Sir Trevor put down a litter tray in the middle of the 'space' and Brian Blessed promptly defecated in it.
I decided Runtumtigglehimler rather liked having a fag by the bins outside stage door. It was here I SAVED THE NATIONAL THEATRE.
Dame Judy had joined me outside as she was craving a Lambert and Butler. This was after a gruelling morning chasing an imaginary giant ball of string around the 'space'.
'Billy.' La Dame said to me, 'that fecker Nunn has basically got me doing bolloxy skin work, in a furry leotard, whiskers and a self animated tail. Is this what my chuffin' career has come to?' She took a long drag on her ciggie and played with her fake ears, 'well stuff that for a bunch of soldiers, he can stick it up his catflap. I'm slingin' my butchers. I'd rather be on the game if this is the only work I get offered.'
I gazed at her for a long time between puffs, and placed a woolen paw on her shoulder, eventually I said, 'stick at it Judy.' She smiled. I could see she had resolved to carry on in this business we call show. She then coughed up a fur ball.
Would she have gone on to the play the Queen? Would she had got an Oscar? Would the Natonal Theatre have survived for 50 years if I hadn't intervened? We will never know. As Hamlet said, and he was no bad judge of actors, 'the rest is history'
Love one another
Billy x
Next week -
The inside story of my years on BILLY ELLIOT'S SUMMER SEASIDE
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