Midsummer Madness

Six months since I wrote this blog, I am shocked at myself. But I do have some excuses. After we entered the new year, I set myself the task of meeting two new members of my agent’s team. We met for “coffee” at six pm and several wines later, we felt we had more of an inkling of who we all were. So much so, that a week later I was sent two self tapes for two interesting projects and a week after that found out that I had got one of them.

I have to speak in mystical terms about it because I have signed an NDA, but suffice to say I had to fly abroad for a week to play a rather wonderfully unsavoury character. I met other thoroughly interesting performers, and I will obviously let you know when the TV Miniseries comes out.

Previous to that very exciting event, I was asked to be a brilliant role in a new political satire that a good friend has been commissioned to pen, and although it was the first bit of actual acting with others that I had done since lockdown, the writer and director felt it went rather well.

When I returned from filming abroad, (how I enjoyed just writing that), I was invited to be a main role in a short film for a young company of film makers. It was an exceptionally well-written script, a dark subject matter of a mother and daughter having suffered the death of husband/ father, discovering during their grief that they shared a complete inability to connect to each other. Dark and toxic and maybe even funny, it was a massive challenge and we filmed sixteen pages in three days, so I returned home on the third day by 1.00 a.m. in complete exhaustion. It is a wonderful privilege to play someone who is so poisonous, but the best bit is knowing you are not her. Then of course, letting go of her, over the following few days. Which required three massages. Believe me, its true. She was the tensest woman I have ever met/played.

Following that, I had agreed to do a rehearsed reading of a new play, which also went very well, although I must admit to acting on my nerves alone by then. The months of April and May were filled to the brim with a flurry of activity of a self tape kind, both for adverts and for television series, which I threw myself into, with a mad assumption that this was my golden year, and I was obviously going to get all the jobs. I have not heard back from any of them and so June has been extremely quiet. Quelle surprise.

Not to mention that the Captain has successfully produced a feature film. We had the screening for the sales agents, there is much interest and decisions of which direction to take it are imminent, but the Captain insisted on making me Associate Producer since I have occasionally listened and advised on a bit of casting and such-like. The Captain has also been up to several acting projects, one of which is taking up the whole of this summer, so you can imagine how bizarre our household is right now.

I suppose the sudden silence and stoppage over June generated permission to my body to give me quite the nastiest chest infection that I have had in a long time. I should be grateful that it wasn’t during any of those jobs. At this point, I am now yearning for Italy, sun, sea, and long siestas, with peace and quiet around and my mobile tucked away in a safe with the sound off. Looks like I may be waiting a while for that. So while I do, I will get back to my second novel, my first screen play and my next oil painting. Duty calls!