Nick's Blog
Turnablog
31/1/2007 @ 15:26
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you were living in the South East of England in the late 80s and early-mid 90s and you watched a bit of BBC1 in the afternoons and early evenings then you'll remember Rob Curling: He did the sport on BBC London News (before Mark "flubbalub" Bright) and hosted a game show called "Turnabout".
There were 3 contestants (I think) who had to turn CGI coloured balls from red to blue to green depending on what colour they were playing. If you scored a line of one colour, you scored points. It was harmless and ever-so-slightly compelling viewing....this was in the days before "Diagnosis Murder" clogged up our afternoons.
Anyway, Rob Curling was the host and he was a jolly, inoffensive bloke who ran a jolly, inoffesive game show. He did a fair sports report and was BBC London's utility man; popping up here to do a report on London's dwindling golf courses or life in a Wetlands centre but then, he vanished and so did Turnabout without any explanation.
Gone was the cosy old BBC London news to be replaced by thumping drum and bass, skeletal multi-ethnic presenters and the sinister grinning demeanour of Matt "Psycho Prince Edward" Barbette. And afternoons on BBC 1 became about doctors and murder...often both at the same time. Where was Rob?
Yesterday, I saw his cherubic mug on Sky news in the morning, exchanging witty banter with Eamon Holmes (can anyone engage with Eamon Holmes in anything other than witty banter?). Slightly greyer but still the same old Rob; all the same professionalism and quitely knowledgeable reporting that I got used to way back then. The world has returned to rights, everything is fine. The question now remains, is he up for a new series of "Turnabout"?
Blog Forest Gateaux
28/1/2007 @ 15:58
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Whatever happened to the Mixed Grill? Time was when every menu in most restaurants would have this on offer. Indeed, eating a mixed grill was a rite of passage...something that said to the world "you're a grown up now".
A chop, a sausage (or 2 chipolatas),a bit of steak, a rasher of bacon, kidneys, mushrooms, grilled tomato and peas and there was a meal fit for any human being (although a bit hard going if you were a Vegan). There was something for everyone in a mixed grill; the perfect recipe for the indecisive.
Wifey says it's so 70s...like the prawn cocktail and the Black Forest Gateaux and that got me thinking....why not have the ULTIMATE 70s meal?
Prawn cocktail!...served in a mock seashell and with lashings of sliced lemon and iceberg lettuce.
Mixed grill....all slightly overcooked to perfection!
Black forest gateaux...with a generous dollop of double cream.
Drink....got to be a bottle of German wine with perhaps Tizer as a non-alcoholic aperertif. Coffee from a percolator and a nice glass of Aavocaat to finish with.
Runaround Blog
20/1/2007 @ 12:26
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Poor Dion, jerked around by that bitch, Runaround Sue. You know the song...
"Here's my story, it's sad but true
It's about a girl that I once knew
She took my love then ran around
With every single guy in town"
Well Dion certainly had the last laugh though. Imagine, there's Sue, she's partying with all these guys and having a good time when...
"Hey Sue, weren't you supposed to be out with Dion tonight?"
"That loser? No way! I'm a free spirited girl so let's PAR-TAY! Hey Mike, put the radio on and let's hear some party music...."
"Erm Sue, there's a guy on the radio and I think he's singing about you"
"Yep, that sounds like you alright Sue...apparently you like to travel around,
loving guys and then you put them down
I think Dion wants to put you wise
Sue goes out with other guys...something you want to share with the group, Sue?"
"Lies! Lies! He's lying! OK, I do sometimes go out with other...wait guys! Wait! I'm not really like that!"
"Whatever Sue, I'm going home now"
"No wait...Mike! Brad! I can explain!"
"Save it Sue, you slut! You harpy! Begone foul harlot and bother us no more!"
On the Casting Blog
16/1/2007 @ 08:25
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Three days of casting the next sketch and as I said in my last entry, 40 actresses in total auditioning for 6 roles in a virtually all-female sketch.
The process started back in December when I put an advert in the Actor's newsletter, PCR, and soon afterwards I got sent CVs...a total of 205 so far. Wifey would raise a quizzical eyebrow as yet another 8x10 glossy photo of some improbably good looking girl would arrive in the post or in our e-mail inbox. I would reassure her with the words "look, it's film business. Besides, I would never be unfaithful....there's nowhere to hide on a film set and you just don't get enough time for anything to happen"...OK, I shouldn't have said that last bit to her I now realise.
But it's still like a cattle market...all of them have had training at really good theatre schools and have a mixture of stage, TV and a bit of film experience so in those terms they're equal but in the end, the way you end up chosing who you want to interview is down to looks...how shallow, but the reality of casting a lot of time. It's not necessarily about who's the best looking: It's about who you think looks like the character you've written.
Then come the auditions. I've now shortlisted 40 people to see: All different sizes, shapes, tall, short, blonde, brunette, Asian, black, young and not so young. I pat myself on the back for having assembled a representative cross section of females all aged between 18-30.
Auditioning is a process that gives me butterflies in the stomach because no sooner have I packed my rucksack full of CV's and scripts and am ready to head out of the door, than I get my first text message of the day...
"SRRY, CAN'T COME TO UR AUDIT TDY. OFFER OF FILM RLE IN LIVERPL. GD LCK."
That from the person I'm really banking on being the right one for the "Sexy Vamp" character. By the time I'm off the tube and at the audition venue, I've received 2 more texts saying roughly the same thing. "GOT ROLE IN TRAVELLING VERSION OF 'RENT', SORRY, NOT AVAILABLE FOR WORK FOR NEXT 9 MONTHS. GD LCK.".
2 more actresses booked in for the first morning don't show up...I'm starting to panic....just who IS going to show up in the end? Will my production grind to a halt here?
Fortunately, the rest do come and start showing me why we have some of the best actors in the world in this country. Richard and Kevin are on hand with me to read lines to them and help me sort out who's would be best for the roles. However, after reading girls' lines for 6 hours a day for 3 days, we start turning into girls: We sit like them, talk like them and start inhabiting the characters. Maybe we should drag up and take the roles ourselves? I reckon I could pass but Richard's legs are a bit of a question mark. And Kevin's got to lose the beard.
I also had these noble intentions of having a diverse cast of all kinds of races, colours and creeds but it's becoming clear from the auditions that the blondes are acting their hearts out and doing the characters justice. Casting is now becoming like arranging a winning poker hand...not only do you cast who you think is the best for each role, you have to compare and contrast the looks between them so that don't end up with them looking related to each other or that I'm sending a message to the viewers that I have some fetish for tall blondes with big blue eyes.
After 3 days and Richard pleading with me that such and such should get the role, we finally cast it. 3 blondes, 3 brunettes, the tallest at 5'11" the shortest at 5'2" and for ethnic appeal...we have a French girl in there as well.
Now I imagine they've all read this and they're all going to quit and I'll have to start all over again.
Memory Blog
09/1/2007 @ 16:03
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Usually I update my blog every other day and on Mondays I copy one of the older ones here and put it onto Rhubba's MySpace profile (and change the song as well) but this week I have been nearly consumed by the preparations for our next sketch.
The next one is the "biggie" so to speak. One Nick Jarvie and I wrote a few years ago and which has been performed live in front of an audience (which went very well) and has already been filmed in a very abridged version by ITV (which didn't work so well). The reason why it's our "biggie" is that it gives us the most satisfaction when we re-read it and it's the one that people who've seen our work most often comment on favourably. Sure, The Beatles may have liked "Strawberry Fields Forever" the most but I bet Paul still gets people stopping him in the street and saying "S***! You're Paul McCartney!" and THEN saying "By the way, I always liked She Loves You the best".
Tomorrow is the start of our auditions for the 5 roles in the sketch and I have a mountain of other tasks to perform in order to get everything ready for the shoot. We're seeing a combined total of 40 actresses who will all no doubt be good because that's the way we churn out actors in the UK...makes it bloody hard for a casting director when you've got centuries of theatrical tradition giving you their 15 minutes of intense acting skill.
Anyway, on this sketch and what it's about and who we're auditioning I will say no more...NO MORE, DAMMIT! This is because
a) To give away the plot and the subject matter will ruin it for you
and
b) Some of the actresses may be reading this and I don't want them to know what I'm thinking.
Fill In The Blog
05/1/2007 @ 16:51
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Here's a weird story I saw when I logged onto the computer just now:
DARYL HANNAH TELLS OF SEX SLAVE ORDEAL
"Daryl Hannah has revealed a horrifying experience, which still haunts her today... She narrowly escaped being sold as a sex slave in the late seventies."
I didn't read the rest of the story; I didn't want to. Already my mind had made that leap into the realm of possibility and I pondered what that ordeal could have been and how Daryl had got there.
I didn't want that image sullied by ugly reality, such as being conned into doing an "adult" movie, she was young and naive, she answered an advert, she was a poor orphan girl with an abusive stepfather etc, etc.
Instead, I have this image that she was at the local Co-Op, checking out the sell by dates on various cartons of milk when she starts up a conversation with a Mr. Alahmud Al Hazrid, a man with a very thick accent which Daryl can't quite understand properly, and he makes her an offer of stardom, which she mistakenly thinks is his latest costume drama about the American Civil War and hey presto: She's sold into slavery.
I also like to think that it was a group of friends who submitted her details to Sex-Slaves-For-U for a joke and it went horribly wrong.
Has anyone got any other Daryl Hannah Sex Slave Scenarios? Oh, and I don't want to hear about what you want to do with her either...really, this is a family site.
There's A Flu Blog Going Around
02/1/2007 @ 14:51
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We had a lovely New Year's but alas, Wifey came down with the 'flu and she's not well at all.
Mind you, she's such a trouper that she won't let having the 'flu, wheezing, coughing and feeling like at death's door stop her from going to work. This is one of the big differences between her and me; she barely acknowledges illnesses and thinks doctors are a bit of a waste of time whereas my reaction to having a cold or the 'flu goes something like this:
"I....I can see a brilliant white light! I'm going now, I'm going to head towards the heavenly light!"
WIFEY: "That's the ceiling light, stupid"
"I...I cannot feel my legs anymore"
WIFEY: "That's my leg your touching"
"It's...so...so cold. I'm fading fast...so...cold"
WIFEY: "Tsch, you left the window open again"
"I can see...I can see Mother ahead....hello mother....I'm coming to join you now....I'm coming to join you in heaven"
WIFEY: "Your mother is alive, downstairs and making you a cup of tea. Why did I marry a drama queen?"




