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This is a question On the stage

Too shy to ever appear on stage myself, I still hung around theatres like a bad smell when I was younger - lighting and set design were what I was good at.

Backstage we'd attempt to sabotage every production - us lighting geeks would wind up the sound man by putting the remote "pause" button for his reel-to-reel tape machine on his chair, so when he sat down it'd start running, ruining his cues. Actors would do scenes out of order to make our lives hell. It was great and I don't know why I don't still do it.

Tell us your stories of life on the stage.

(, Fri 2 Dec 2005, 11:02)
Pages: Popular, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

The Tailor of Glocestershire
when I was nine I got the lead in the above play in school, just before the end of the 1st act my trousers fell down and I tripped over. you see I was so nervous before I went on that I forgot to put on my belt and the trousers didn't fit and and well, they all laughed, just after a mass inhilation

*sighs*
(, Wed 7 Dec 2005, 12:56, Reply)
Trap
Lost 3 girls out of the auidience under the stage when they stood on a trap with a 12 foot drop, Imagine their surprise as they fell, they shat themselves. oh how we laughed it really made the show
(, Wed 7 Dec 2005, 6:47, Reply)
I thought I was utterly Z list but.....
.....a week of dreadful reminiscences say otherwise. I was in Tom Finn or Huckleberry Sawyer or whatever when I was about 10 playing the defence barrister in the trial of Muff Potter. If it was filmed I would be just above key grip's assistant or 3rd location gaffer or somesuch in the credits. That unforgettable. However I have been trumped good and proper by most of you in the shitness of role stakes. Best not bother mentioning it then, methinks.

Ho hum
(, Wed 7 Dec 2005, 5:36, Reply)
Pantomime Cat
During last year's local pantomime the script called for one of our stars, dressed as a large ginger cat with beatnik tendencies, to perform a hideous interpretive dance while watched by me (the wicked witch) and my evil sidekick (a 6'2" bearded engineer in a picture hat, large boots, a very nice frock and huge false tits.) On the final night the said Cat, about to start his dance, said "Wait a minute, hold this for me will you?" (which wasn't in the script) and placed a fresh human tooth in my hand (also not in the script) before calmly commencing his dance. Meanwhile various members of the rather staid and elderly local choral society, oblivious to these proceedings, lurked behind the backdrop happily performing a selection from Carmina Burana on kazoos.
When we finally got off stage, some time later, the Cat told me he had lost the tooth while chewing a rubber rat.This must have looked good on his insurance claim.
(, Wed 7 Dec 2005, 4:47, Reply)
Oh dear...
Around Easter of this year, my band (of little gig experience off of our campus at this point) somehow got through to the final of a national Battle of the Bands. Brilliant, we thought. Let's get parents to come watch our brilliance, we thought... oh dear.

Come the day, we arrive at the dive of a venue to find that the 'celebrity' judge has pulled out, and all the other acts are school bands. Bugger. Never mind, we can show them who's best by drinking...

Sometime later, some *interesting* bands have come and gone (favourite line: "2000 years ago a baby was born... [I forget the next bit]... FUCK JESUS!") and now it's our turn. So we get on, play a decent set, and get off. Then we don't win.

Almost. Except that part about a 'decent set'. I saw the video recently. It could be the single most embarrasing thing I have ever done in front of my parents, if not anyone - ever. We were evidently plastered by this point, and I get why my Dad said "the prancing was a bit distracting" as we obviously thought we were rock gods - in a room full of uninterested schoolkids and judges who blatantly thought we were pricks.

The highlight? It would either be the 'harmony' which sounds like several cows being horribly killed simultaniously, or the moment that the guitarist starts pretty much humping his guitar.

The worst part is that I know we're a lot better than that, but I don't know how the hell I can convince my parents, who obviously now think I spent most of my life learning about music so that I could find the best way to shit on its fresh grave...
(, Wed 7 Dec 2005, 2:16, Reply)
drama, drama, and more drama
currently a drama student and i've been studying it for over five years now I had done the following:

played a prostitute
played an old lady (same production)
been beaten up twice
learned to waltz
fallen on my arse more than once
played a body piercer
played a chav
rapped parts of midsummernights dream
been blindfolded and poked
run around the woods in the dark with a firey torch
played a sexually transmitted disease

am now currently staring as Mary Tudor and a horse...

the things i do for a fucking degree
(, Wed 7 Dec 2005, 0:09, Reply)
Christmas Carol
First time on stage doing a proper thing not a five minute piss take as I normally had done. Oh no it was A Christmas Carol (non musical) and I was playing Scrooge.

Anyway on last night I thought I would play it for laughs. Some occasional twattish comments were made by myself that were slightly amusing. But I thought save the best till last.

My original line was "Let's go and have a nice bowl of steaming Bishop's Pudding. What do you say about that then hey Bob"
I changed it too (without telling anyone) "Lets go and smoke some Bishop's cock, Do you spit or swallow Bob?"
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 21:13, Reply)
The band's had a few nightmarish gigs, but 1 sticks in mind.
For a start we got bumped from second last in the band list to second, meaning by the time we'd played most people hadn't even turned up yet...turned out to be a good thing.

The Bass amp was royally fucked! Everytime i switched my distortion on it went nearly silent, then when i switched it off again (due to me attempting to let everyone hear it) it nearly blew me across the room.

The Guitar amp wouldn't stop whistling, even with the guitarist actually at the other end of the room.

And the drum kit fell apart. Not as in gently fell to the floor, it went very violently. One crash cymbol flew into a bunch of kids sitting on some stairs, and various drums, beyond repair.

We never played a gig for that 'organiser' again.
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 21:10, Reply)
seem to be a lot
of trombonists here. I'm a euphonium player myself, done various shows and things, yet i can't think of anything interesting to post. maybe things will come back to me...
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 20:29, Reply)
Dirty Grandma
Was once in a show of 'Elanor Rigby'. It was one of the first show when I wasn't just 'Villager number three', and actually had a vaguely decent part: Nurse.
My part was to wheel on the main character, (who was in a wheelchair) tuck in his blankett, say something nice and then walk off. Unbeknownst to me, a trip from the local nursing home had come down to watch us. So, on walks I, full of nerves and excitement. I do my part quite successfully and am just about to walk off when a little old lady on the front row begins to shout,
"Nurse, nurse. I need you. I had a problem and my legs and bottom are all wet. I need a change."
Petrified I ignored the filthy woman and exited the stage.
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 20:25, Reply)
the constipated exploding melon
no this is not the name of the production im in the orchestra for. its actually the only way the trumpets and us (the trombones) can accurately describe the look on the piano players face while he is playing his part. his head is melon shaped and while playing his face screws up like a mong and he looks like he is trying to push a particularly large shit out of his eyes. of course we have now taken to shouting out "melon!" at random times to great laughs.


apologies for the astronomical size of my balls.......
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 17:50, Reply)
In recent times, well, yesterday..........
I was putting on a performance of that classic musical Oliver. Naturally everything is going well, the show about powerful political views from over a hundred years ago is being well absorbed by the crowd of primary school children.

It comes to a song sung by my good friend Fagen. With himself and the stage microphoned up, off he launches with a perfect rendition, word for word prefect, the band are even impressed. He takes a bow waits for the clapping to stop, delivers a few lines and steps off the stage.

All is quiet, and suddenly a microphoned voice booms out over the children 'Stupid fucking song, the guy that wrote this is a fucking twat!'

Fagen had left his microphone on, and had proclaimed this loudly to all the local primaray school children, their parents, and teachers.

Good on 'im, that's what I say.
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 17:49, Reply)
Cruel joke to play on an unsuspecting child
School production of Jack And The Beanstalk. I must have been about ten, so let's say 1988.

My part in this epic production? The Wizard. You know - the WIZARD! He's the fella who swaps a cow for some magic beans.

Wizards, as we all know, dress in pointy hats and dark blue "robes" with dodgy gold moons and stars stiched all over them. Wizards, as you may be also aware, tend to appear in clouds of smoke. Go along with this one. Our script-writer obviously did.

The time for my big scene arrives. Lights flash! Cymbals crash! Cue ten-year-old me leaping "magically" onto stage in a puff of smoke.

To be more precise: cue a young boy in a funny hat and a dress, jumping onto stage holding a large, cloud-shaped piece of grey cardboard, with the word "PUFF" emblazoned across it in huge, bright red, capital letters. A young boy whose entire (mercifully brief) appearance on stage was subtitled with one word, calling into question his burgeoning sexuality.

I don't think any of the so-called "grown-ups" in the audience could hear any of my lines over their collective guffawing. At the time, I just assumed our script was even more hilarious than it had been in rehearsal. Took me YEARS to get their "little joke". Bastards.

Sad thing is, I think I still have that puff of smoke in the back of the wardrobe somewhere...

*pop*
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 16:33, Reply)
Impressions
When I started secondary school, I found out I had the abitlity to do spot-on impressions of some of the teachers. Especially our psychotic Head of Year/RE teacher, Mrs. Anderson. Who was Nigerian.

At the end of year 7 assembly, my English teacher (who was aware of the uncanny vocal abilities I possessed) forced me onstage to do a "eh eh, you are not a good Christian, if I was your mother I would send you back to Nigeria to learn to be a good Christian" routine. You see, this is what Mrs. Anderson used to say to us if we swore in her presence. She was not best pleased and suspended me for the last 3 days of school for "race hate" spreading. I was 12.
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 16:01, Reply)
Bastards.
If you have met a man or woman that has appeared on stage that isnt a total c**t you have one up on me.

Come the revolution...
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 15:55, Reply)
Wrong week
I can post, woo, hoo, does a giddy dance of joy, wonders briefly why so easily pleased?

To be honest I had a great shameful confession for last week's topic but due to not being able to post for a week I missed the opportunity, damn, was looking forward to cleansing my soul.

Can't really think of anything stage related apart from an incident involving Keith Chegwin that I'm still too traumatised to speak of, I played Toto at school, that was pretty embarassing. I wanted to be Dorothy.
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 14:29, Reply)
A messy end!
I was in a band when I was in my mid-late teens. We peddled a brand of guitar-based rock that wasn't particularly heavy, but it was pretty cool and trippy and people seemed to like it, which was a bonus.

We played many gigs around the north west in the three years or so that we were together. We played some cracking shows, the highlight probably being the time when we were watched by John Peel, who then mentioned us on his show the following night. He didn't play any of our stuff, though. I imagine he was just being polite by giving us a mention, busy man that he was.

We had some bad gigs, too. The last one was probably the worst. It was a local gig in the upstairs function room of a pub. We had recently fired our bass player for being a complete fucknut and the drummer's brother had taken his place. He was a big, cow-like guy with a tendency to fall asleep at inconvenient times and in inconvenient places. However, after only one gig he was already fed up with the band - mainly due to our lead guitarist's extreme arrogance and inability to resist patronising everyone around him.

I was pissed off due to the old "creative differences." Basically, I wanted to go heavier and the lead guitarist (again, big, but not so much cow-like as simian in appearance, rather like an orang utan wrestling with a Les Paul) and the drummer (a little guy, kind of like a percussive, extreme sports bush baby) wanted to go all shoegazing-Radiohead-pretentiousness. Good hard rock was no longer on their agenda. Our new bovine bass player was ready to rock, and the synths and samples dude (a quiet little fellow like a confused mouse) didn't care what he was doing as long as he could get stoned all the time. I wanted out, but I'd worked so hard over the past few years with the band it would be a shame to quit, and we had a gig to honour.

It was Friday. We were due to play around 9.30pm. At 4pm I went to my local pub after work and started drinking. A couple of hours later I went down to the venue to set up and soundcheck. The other guys were fucking around. The lead guitarist was playing around with his new effects pedal and wasting time, while our support band were getting pissed off because they still needed to soundcheck. I headed out to another pub for a few more drinks. I then went back to the gig and watched the support band. Then we took to the stage.

The room was hot and moist and full of people eager to see us play. I took a pint onto the stage with me as usual and we started playing. We were dreadful. We were all out of time with each other, I couldn't get the vocals out properly because I could hardly speak and I certainly couldn't play my guitar. I got too hot and tried to take my top off with my guitar still strapped on and got myself tangled up. The bass player tried to help me get out of it, but it turned into a scene that wouldn't have looked out of place in Dumb & Dumber.

We eventually finished the gig and the drummer's mother, of all people, came up to me and said, "Stu, I think we really need to talk about things." Then our guitarist angrily told me that I would never drink before another gig again, to which I answered that there wouldn't be another gig. Then, in some sort of bizarre mammalian stand-off, the bass player started arguing with the guitarist that perhaps there was a reason I had started drinking before gigs. I left them to it and went to another pub to continue drinking into the early hours of the morning, and it was there that I learned that, while I had been in the pub between the souncheck and the gig, the rest of the band had been up by the railway, sitting like a bunch of tramps and getting monged off weed. So it wasn't just me who had been fucked up. Bastards!

It was a sad way to end the band, but it was also bordering on Spinal Tap territory, so I can look back and laugh about it. Hahahahahahaha! See.
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 14:21, Reply)
Bravo wierdo...
...not enough people did that to him, in my opinion :)
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 14:15, Reply)
i was on stage
with timmy mallet, he hit me and i called him a stupid cunt
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 14:03, Reply)
Bloody nativities
How could I have forgotton about this one..

age 5, reception class nativity play. I was the Angel Gabriel. I got to carry the star and everything.

Unfortunately about 10 seconds before my entrance my nose started bleeding pretty badly, down my face, down my dress (actually a white cotton pillowcase) - giving the whole ensable a bit of a "Carrie" feel.

Not wanting to miss my chance at fame (I was carrying the Star, this was almost as good as being Mary) I stepped out in front of the assembled parents & teachers bawling my eyes out now with tears mixing with the blood - until "Miss" dragged me off stage and into the toilets to clean me up.
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 13:44, Reply)
Not me but...
My sister is a drama brat and went to the same stage school as Zoe from Pop Idol (she may or may not have been the one who was schtupping G..g..g.g...gareth, I'm not too sure, please don't sue)

Anyway, after the whole Pop Idol ordeal, she returns to the Drama School to say hello. All the little kiddies think that she is Samantha Mumba :-) Bless.

Length? You love it, luvvie!
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 13:35, Reply)
School talent show rock-out
At my school they used to have an end of year talent show.
Now its quite a big school the only way the entire school could get together they have to hire the sports centre down the road.
In my early teens I was in a band and we were more or less forced into entering by the music teacher who had heard us play a few Nirvana covers.
So there we were four spotty teenagers on stage in front of all our friends/peers/bullies
the music teacher introduces us as Newt (bad name I know) and says we will be playing "teen spirit" only for us to launch into "so What" by the anti-nowhere league.
We got all the way to
"so what, so what you boring little Cunt"
Before they pulled the plug on us and I gather they still dont have talent shows ten years on.

Im actually proud of that.
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 13:32, Reply)
the reaper...
im a viola player.. i have no shame... people love me...

Viola players rule the world...

Bring it on!
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 13:16, Reply)
Rada twunts and Tears
I once went to a drama school on Saturdays, and one summer went to the Summer School. There we were to put on a play to show to the parents who forked out a fortune in fees-but luckily only had to sit through one production a year.

This summer we did s Dracula type event-one of the dance teachers claimed to have trained at Rada-yet took all the dance moves me and my mate michelle made up while we were pissing around waiting for him to do something-he never gave us credit-just blayantly ripped off the seriously funky moves of a couple of teenagers-TWUNT.

Plus, when it came to auditions for the parts, i wanted particular part as it had a good solo in it-but they forgot to ket me audition. Did I behave in an adult way and simply remind them I was interested in the part? No. I cried and ran off-they felt so bad they wrote a part specially for me!!! With an even better solo and costume (black leather jacket, net skirt and brown curly wig mmm nice)

plus my dad never even bothered to turn up-he was in the pub.

Not very interesting I'm sure.
Length?-I'm a girl-its all in the cup size
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 12:25, Reply)
I auditioned for Bugsy Malone
Well the West End stage version anyway.

I was only about 10. We travelled to London and when we got to the place they were being held there were a few thousand people in the queue. Somehow my Dad bribed the doormen and we got in straight away.

The coolest bit was having to do singing in front on Mickey Golenz from the Monkeys (which I passed) and doing an American accent in front of Tony Bennet from Take Hart?!?! (which I also passed). I then had to do some dancing with a load of tossy stage school kids which I was so crap at I fell over. They then turfed me out with a free mars bar.

Shame, I really wanted to be baby face.
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 12:24, Reply)
Stiffy britches
Playing a rustic in a school production of a restoration comedy, I had to canoodle with a girl during one scene. Unfortunately I had the unrequited hots for the young actress. During the opening night, she played her part with verve, which involved sitting on my lap and wriggling.

Unfortunately my usual thespian professionalism did not extend to my adolescent knob, which reacted with glee at the stimulation from the nether regions of the object of my affections. Not only did I have the embarrassment of fearing the girl in question would feel my rising ardour, but I was wearing tight-fitting britches, and knew that in a few minutes' time the scene called for me to push her off my lap and leap up. I became terrified that my stiffy would be visible to the audience. I was desperately willing little Mr Winky to go down, without any success. The strain of this made me begin to sweat, and feel dizzy.

Eventually the time came to jump up, so I did so with a hand strategically shifting my embarrassing protrusion to the side as I did so. Alas, the double shame, the heat of the lights, and the first night nerves, got the better of me and I fainted backwards into the chair, and came round a few seconds later, without a clue where I was, nor why I was sitting in strange clothes in an armchair, with an erection, bright lights in my face, and hundreds of people looking at me.

Thankfully I came to my senses in a moment, the shock quelled my 'excitement', and I was able to carry on. Subsequent performances had me turn my groin away from the girl, which made my character look less keen, but at least I avoided further priapean shame.

Of course, there is also the worrying thought that neither she, nor the audience, noticed that anything had been amiss...
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 12:10, Reply)
shit subject
this topic is the shittest topic yet! not impressed!
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 11:15, Reply)
Ah, school days...
I had a long history in drama, from being the narrator of the first-grade nativity play to the... uh, narrator of the sixth-grade play. As well as a dog... I can't believe how degrading that should have been. But all my better stories stem from secondary school.

#1 - I, as one of the more intelligent students, usually got called up to the stage in the regular award-givings. I particularly enjoyed the state-wide competitions. Now, one year someone within the school had gained a special award. I was placed in the little queue on the stage steps, so used to this that I ignored the teacher talking to me. And when the chap on stage gave the cue and the person in front started walking, I followed him. Problem was, he'd gotten the prize. Apparently I just stood there, grinning like a loon, even when they whispered to me to walk across and get my certificate. That put me down a few pegs.

#2 - I was also one of the more intelligible subjects, and so not only did I take part in the mass debating, but I went up and gave the talk. Nothing bad about this - I learnt about it about an hour beforehand, made a few scribbled notes on a sheet of paper for a speech, and had the audience in hysterics. It's one of the two times I've gotten myself a standing ovation.

#3 - Near the end of secondary school, the principal herself was up on stage congratulating the batch of winners. This was around the time that even I stopped caring about the punishments teachers could mete. And so I went up on stage, took my certificate from the student minion (a friend, fortunately) and gave him a nice big hug. In front of the entire school body. It's probably worth pointing out that I'm not gay, it just seemed a hell of a lot more interesting than a handshake. And in what was the beginning of an unpleasant pattern, the principal promptly stated, "I am not hugging you". Too bad her microphone was still on. Nobody stood up that time, but it was an ovation all right.

Maybe it's a bit long, but if I start off at one extreme, I'll head towards the other.

Thought I'd been beaten by Newbie Tuesday, but I live in a better timezone...
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 10:57, Reply)
It's my first time- be gentle
My mom signed me up for an am dram pantomime when I was 12. One of the girls in the cast absolutely hated me for no apparent reason. The play was Toad of Toad Hall, I was a weasel, she was a rabbit, perhaps she was just a really good method actor. Anyway, on the last night we were all meant to line up and sing the closing song. As usual she barges in front of me but I don't retaliate, I kindly let her stand in front. As a weasel I'm holding a plastic tommy gun (go figure), I press said gun into her back as hard as I can, she's in the front row so she can't move, she just has to stand there smiling and singing with a plastic gun rammed into her back. Revenge was mine.

Also during the rehearsals to said play there's a scene in the courtroom where I'm in the jury. Me and another girl were always mucking around, we were at either end of the bench and kept nudging it back with our legs everytime the jury stood up. I'm quite competitive so during the last part where the jury stood up I shoved a bit too hard and then neglected to tell everyone who promptly sat down very hard on the floor. It's hard to protest your innocence when you're the only one left standing...
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 10:55, Reply)
First appearance.
In a giant dragon's outfit. Candra's Dragon or something. Said my lines horribly with the mask over my eyes, turned to leave and knocked over a cardboard tree.

In a pathetic cover attempt, I said 'rarr!' and raised my arms to batter another tree down, but thought better of it and just got the hell off the stage.

There's also the time I was an extra in Das Rheingold as a 5"7 dwarf (don't ask me, they're the buggers who hired me) but there's not much to tell about that one.
(, Tue 6 Dec 2005, 10:02, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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