I kid you not when I say that the stuffed cat has been more difficult re: rehearsals than the human.
Deep into rehearsals for two separate Edinburgh Fringe shows (and trying not to squint too much at the fact that there’s just over three weeks left before we go up – literally, go up to Scotland, and also, the first nights of both of our shows. Rehearsals have been going well: One Woman Alien got a minor bit of rewrites after our Brighton Fringe run back in May, and Year Without Summer has an entirely new cast, full of people we hadn’t met until the auditions, and they’ve been doing good work, learning a hell of a lot of stuff in a very limited amount of time.
Obviously, our rehearsal schedule has coincided pretty neatly with the run up to the World Cup. Now, I’ve not really had any interest in the tournament – not in a I’ll Post Just How Much I Don’t Care In A Witty & Pithy Way On Social Media way, but I simply don’t much care one way or the other, and it seems nice that everyone, for the most part, seems to be having a lovely time (when they’re not trashing ambulances or branches of IKEA, that is), and the sustained good weather is certainly adding to the general good mood. Maybe, like 1966, this will be a summer that gets mythologised out of all proportion – particularly if football does indeed come home. Actually, it won’t: the fact that we all have social media accounts to record every drunken rendition of ‘Three Lions’ means that nothing ever has to get lost in the hazy morasses of half-memory.
But anyway. The reason I, as a person who doesn’t really care much about football is writing – albeit somewhat in passing – about football – is to acknowledge that our rehearsals tend to chime in at the same time as major matches. Since some of our rehearsals are in a room above a pub, playing the match, that pretty much means that we know exactly how the game is going without watching a single second (I realise that’s not the same as watching the game if you’re actually a fan, but you can’t have everything, now can you?).
Tomorrow, we take One Woman Alien to the Hastings Fringe, as part of the run up to the Edinburgh Fringe in August. It’s at the Electric Palace cinema, which seems like a hugely appropriate place to stick on a parody version of a classic cinematic blockbuster. And it’s on at the same time as England’s next big game, the one (I have no idea if I’m getting this right) decides if they’re through to the Final. So it is, I imagine, fairly important.
We obviously didn’t know this would be how things would turn out when we booked the date.
It’s not that I’m expecting a no-show for the, uh, show. But I’m acutely aware that we’re going to face a bit of competition (I’m anecdotally aware of some shows shutting up shop on Wednesday night for exactly this reason). Let’s just see how it goes …
(By the way, if you want to snag a ticket for tomorrow’s performance, click here. )