Friday Nights was my first play. It was performed at the Old Red Lion in, I think, 1980. It transferred to the Riverside Studios. I’d have been twenty-one at the time. It did well as we packed The Old Red most nights and back then the capacity was bigger as they subsequently changed the space and, in doing so, reduced the seating. The Riverside production wasn’t as good as we lost Perry Benson, who was busy doing a telly. The actor who replaced Perry wasn’t bad by any means but it’s all about timing and Mr Benson’s blessed with it. I’ve no idea when I first thought about writing but at school, we had to do something on The Beatles “She’s Leaving Home” and out of nowhere I felt a fleeting sense of jealousy for the Fab Four, over having something studied in textbooks. I instantly quashed those thoughts as I was busy pretending to be a tough guy at the time. A couple of years later, I was walking down a street in Peckham with a real one; Tiny. As we passed a parked Triumph Stag. He asked, “What do you reckon?” I gave the car an appreciative glance and he continued, “Going to buy it last week.” I asked, “Why didn’t you?” Tiny responded, “Can’t drive.” A few steps later and what with him being an intuitive individual, he answered my unspoken question, “It’d look good outside the gaff.” I distinctly recall thinking that’d be good in a story. Forty-eight years on, hopefully, it is. Maybe the desire to write was always there- lurking…
On coming out of the first dark age (covered elsewhere), I stepped right into a second golden one. It would last about a decade. At the start of it, in maybe 79, I’d have been twenty and begun writing short stories. Given my love of Runyon, that would have been the most obvious place to start. I joined the City Lit, signing up for their short-story course. I didn’t see it through but I’m proud I attended a few Evening Classes at that grand old institution. Evening Classes are how my father and my wife’s father, obtained the qualifications required for their careers. In my dad’s case, this meant entry into the Canadian Air Force. In my wife’s father’s, it led to him becoming a Quantity Surveyor. My dad had come over from Tralee in County Kerry and worked as a labourer during the day. My wife’s dad came from the East End of London. Proof, that when you hear these old villains claiming crime was the only way out, it’s complete bollocks. It may have been their only way out but millions of people the world over, have emerged from impoverished areas and done quite well without turning to crime and, I’ve no doubt plenty are still doing so. Quite possibly, with the aid of Evening Classes. The concept of which, seems sort of quaint in today’s world.
As stated, I didn’t see the course through, I never saw anything through… In fairness, all I needed to know was that I wasn’t pissing in the wind and that point was proven quite quickly. Or at least, I thought it was. Given that you’re reading this on here, as opposed to in a book, maybe I jumped the gun? Fortunately, publishers have no influence on the world of theatre and my entry into that- came half by accident. I’d mentioned to a girl I was seeing, that on reading the stories out, I used to sort of perform them for people (Kind of needy). Anyway… I told her that I’d get embarrassed reading out the bits that weren’t the characters talking. She responded “Write plays then. That’s all just people talking.” She had a point. I wrote ‘Friday Nights’ in under a month. It was a piece of piss compared to writing prose. Aside from all else, there’s just far fewer words. ‘Friday Nights’ was a three-hander, set in a police cell on a… you guessed it, a Friday night. Saturdays are favoured by songwriters and dramatists, as the night it all kicks off but as a teenager, I recall chatting to a kid about where we were going and neither of us was fully decided. That’s when he came out with “See you up the hospital later then.” He wasn’t joking either. With all due respect, the young man lacked the wit for that. No, A&E was where our Friday nights would usually end.
So, I’d written the play but couldn’t do anything with it as the world of theatre was alien to me. Fortune smiled when I met the actor Trevor Laird at Gaz’s one night. I instantly accosted the poor man and held him captive, while banging on about the play. He, as luck would have it, was looking for something to direct. Trevor, along with the actor Chris Tummings, came back and read it- that night. Trevor, on finishing the play, promptly announced he’d be putting it on. He was as good as his word and he did a great job. We’d wanted Chris Tummings but he was doing a play in NYC (I think) at the time of production and we ended up with someone neither of us was overly enthused about. It was a shame, as Chris was a good actor and would have enhanced the piece but all in all, I’ve nothing but fond memories of that production.
A few months earlier I’d auditioned at and, been accepted by The Drama Centre. This was a “method” acting school (then in Prince of Wales Rd), Kentish Town. I’d have gone too but they couldn’t take me in until the following term. Again, I was in a rush. In a life plagued by regret, burning that bridge is a big one. Acting came easy to me as let’s be real, I’d been doing it all my life. Acting tough, acting thick, acting bright. Acting Irish, acting Jewish. French, Italian and, generally- acting the cunt.
It had been while searching for audition pieces that I noticed there wasn’t much I found interesting. You had to present two pieces. A modern and something from Shakespeare. Can’t recall my Shakespeare piece but the modern was a monologue from Joe Orton’s Entertaining Mr Sloane. One reason for choosing writing over acting and I swear to God this is true… I thought writing- was cooler. There was though, another reason I started writing, it had been the hope that by becoming something, it might deter the police from arresting me for things I hadn’t done. Don’t get me wrong, they weren’t singling me out, I was a long way from being a big deal. They were always nicking kids for things they hadn’t done. Like now, they were incapable of catching anyone committing a crime. In my case, it had occurred once or twice but given that they’d missed out on a few things I had done, it sort of evened out. My (semi) laissez-faire attitude ended, when they upped the anti, by attempting to nick me for Murder. That had been one episode in a series, that eventually generated the first dark age’. That dejection came as a shock, I mean, shallow and depressed? Come on God for fucksake. Originally ‘Friday Nights’ had been dedicated to a youngster by the name of Perry Buckland. Who had, in my opinion, been (very) wrongly convicted of the awful murder of a student, at a college dance. I don’t want to get into Perry’s story as it’s not mine to tell but Perry Buckland (RIP), was a really good kid.
Right, back to a trivial subject I’m far more comfortable with, me, me- me! As a young man acting seemed all a bit obvious. The penny finally dropped when I mounted my first production (Fantasy Bonds) at The Old Red, maybe twenty years later. I’d written the play. It was rejected by The National. I’d regrouped, rewritten it, cast, produced, and directed it. Then, standing backstage with the actors on the first night and seeing them, brimming with excitement and nervous energy, it struck like a thunderbolt: “You’ve done all the hard part and you’re missing the best bit.” and, performing in front of an audience is the best bit. It’s also, the scariest. The worst part is that I’d known- for years, how much I enjoyed performing. I’d loved every second of it and that included having to sing, as I’d played Good Old Reliable Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan Detroit!
The acting opportunity came about in the early eighties and was an odd old outing as, years after having left, some kids from school decided to put on Guys and Dolls. As it’s based on a Runyon story entitled The Idyll of Miss Sarah Brown, I was more than familiar with it. Frank Sinatra played Nathan in the film but Frank Sinatra had a distinct advantage, in that he could sing. Quite well too… I couldn’t, still can’t and never will be able to. It was a strange mix of kids because most were middle-class white kids from Hampstead, along with a few black boys from Kilburn who, as far as I know, were not middle-class. I’m not sure how much these people mixed during our school lives but everyone got on well during rehearsals. Which, went on for months. I’d originally been cast as Nicely Nicely Johnson (Jones in the stories) but Nicely’s played by Stubby Kaye in the film and there’s a reason for that - Nicely has a song “Sit Down, You’re Rockin the Boat” and while Jason Osbourne, our musical director, was excellent, even he couldn’t manage to make me sound even half-decent on that one but he somehow managed it with Nathan’s “Sue Me”. My singing on “Sit Down” had been a bridge too far… even for Jason Osbourne.
I was as pleased as Punch. Nathan was a much bigger part so far more showing-off acting. Aside from getting messy regarding liaisons, I had a great time doing that show. Then again, things were always chaotic on the romance front. Now, in my old age, I often walk past the theatre on Kingsway, where (I think) we performed the show and I’m reminded of a photo that appeared in, I believe, The Daily Mail, in which, I’ve got my arms around two young ladies who performed as dancers/chorus girls. Both of whom were very attractive. My Nan wrote to the Mail and got herself a copy and that photo was on her mantlepiece for years but when she died, it went missing. It’s now in the possession of a family member who, for some unknown reason, refuses to send it to me. Had he, it’d be on here, because man, those chicks were something else…