Final dress; first performance; Twelfth Night

Final dress rehearsal went well and I’m happy with that. I know there are lots of superstitions among theatre folk, but I’ve never really followed them. I will say Macbeth quite blithely and I don’t come over all histrionic should someone whistle in the dressing room (although singing from musicals bothers me a bit, but that’s got more to do with good taste than superstition).

Some people maintain that a bad dress rehearsal means a good opening night and vice versa but this is pure hokum. You know whether you are ready for a performance – whether you have put in the work; practiced the words and movement; built the character; listened to the direction; considered the attitudes of those around you and prepared as best you can. No amount of mumbo jumbo is going to change that. It’s like taking a mascot into an exam – no amount of cuddly toys, sharpened pencils or lucky undies are going to make a blind bit of difference if you haven’t learned your stuff.

Of course there are variables – some things might happen before an audience that have never happened in rehearsal, but that’s the beauty of live theatre. People say (usually irritatingly smugly) ‘life’s not a rehearsal’ but in some ways it is. You learn from your mistakes and you move on. You experiment, try different approaches and find what works best. That’s life, and what’s that if not a rehearsal?

I overheard a fellow actor explaining their part in the play – they got half way through the plot and then said, ‘But I won’t spoil the surprise for you.’ It occurred to me that some people will be surprised by the ending. Not everyone knows the story. And I wondered what that would be like. How different it must be to see Hamlet, Macbeth, or, indeed Twelfth Night without knowing what happens. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know the ending of Romeo and Juliet or Casablanca.

I do know how annoyed I was when a friend, asking about The Sixth Sense said SPOILER ALERT ‘Is that the one where he’s dead all along?’ There seemed little point in watching it once I knew the twist, and so I never have. And so I won’t ruin the surprise, you’ll just have to come and see it. END OF SPOILER ALERT

Some people prefer to read a play, particularly Shakespeare, before they go and see it so that they know what’s going on. They find the language difficult and would rather have it wash over them, without having to concentrate on the intricacies of language as well as plot. I can understand this, especially with some of the history plays. But I think Twelfth Night lends itself far better to the stage than the page.

I recently heard someone say that reading a play without seeing it performed is like studying the ingredients without baking the cake. I like that analogy. And tonight I can safely say that for better or worse, we will be breaking some eggs.