What is 'Soap'?

Date: 25/01/12
Author: Peter

Well, things HAVE been busy!

I realise I never properly clarified what ‘Soap’ is for the three people who read this blog (and probably know anyway, because they’re my mum, Alex Boundy, and that weird fangirl (stalker) I met in Edinburgh....)

About a year and a half ago, Adam Hicks, a 29 year old electrician, who’d come to Bournemouth to retrain in Forensic Science, sent me the manuscript of an unfinished novel he was working on. It didn’t have a name, and was a rough early draft, but it was clear that this particular story was funny, sad, honest, and deeply personal. A year later I adapted what he’d done into a screenplay, and from there the two of us met up regularly to discuss and re-write.

The story follows John, a man living off the state, who has reached his late twenties and done next to nothing with his life. Dependent on cannabis, he more or less uses the addiction as an excuse not to sort himself out, until one day it all sort of hits him. He wants a girlfriend, a job, friends, a life. And he’s running out of time, after wasting his youth in a haze of smoke and pot noodles. The film follows John as he attempts to better himself, with mixed results....

The film is certainly semi-autobiographical for both of us. Obviously, as a writer, you discuss what you know within your work, and often the situations a character finds themselves in are similar to those you yourself have encountered. The context changes, and it’s safe to say that I’ve never been a drug addict, but a lot of the themes, characters and emotion behind the film come from reality. And it was obvious from the start that Adam was the only person who could play John.

In late September, we brought a group of people together who I’d worked with previously, and wanted to have involved with the project. Everyone seemed excited about it from the start, and before I knew it we were into production in late October/early November.

Since then, we’ve filmed over about 7 weekends, the last being this one coming. Then we’ll leave the project until May, where we’ll kick off with the last 50 minutes of the film.

So yeah, that’s it, in about 400 words. I’ll try and keep this more up to date, but the majority of photos and updates can be found on the facebook page.

Here’s a short funding trailer to give you an idea of the ‘flavour’ of the film.

If you want to get involved or help us with funding, please do get in touch.

Cheers!

Oh hello again!

Date: 01/04/12
Author: Peter

Well.
It's been a while. 4 Months and 7 days, to be precise. My last entry was candid and odd; an obvious signature of Edinburgh's build up of negative mental effects and extreme-emotional highs and lows. It felt like a smiley face painted onto a corpse.
Don't worry; this entry won't randomly turn into an overly-sentimental look at the ins and outs of a 15 year friendship (with absolutely nothing to do with 'Mechanical Tiger'!), or self indulgently over-analyse a fictional character.

I should probably fill you in on what's gone on since the 26th of August, 2011, then....

It's probably not my place to fill in the others' lives for them, but I'll give a quick (and mostly fictional) breakdown;
Chris Cosentino's comedy career has blossomed, and he's through to the next round of this year's Laughing Horse New Act competition. He's also currently designing MT's Chelsea Flower Show entry for 2012.
Tom Harrison has become a popular R&B singer/songwriter, tossing the writing of various shorts and a feature film to the back-burner. Here's a short video of Tom in action- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Shltkq0cBVI
Sam Hutchinson recently invested a small fortune of $68 into a series of erotic-dancing videos and now plies his trade on the streets of Plymouth. He also shot his new web series in late November, which will be online sometime soon!
Matt Lavender disappeared in October following an odd spate of LOL-cat videos (bordering on animal cruelty), appearing on his youtube account. It's rumoured he's living in downtown LA and working on his latest feature script, under the pen name 'BigBoi'.
After furthering his stage-lighting and script-writing careers (respectively), Lloyd Morgan finally succumbed to his secret desire to become a character in an American Civil War/Star Wars mash-up manga novel. His weekly adventures can be read up on here(?)
Sophie Petzal has gone from strength to strength, and is now the world's second strongest woman (after Jodie Marsh). Nah, she's working for the Beeb now, and practising her bicep curls in time for the Olympics.
For legal reasons, I can't divulge any information on writer-director Josh Vince. His name, details, and past, will soon be wiped from existence (as demonstrated in this handy 'how to' video)
And as for me?
I was recognized as the next face of Vogue, and my latest photo-shoot can be seen here....


The boring truth?
Well, I came away from Scotland on the 29th of August with moobs, a genuine career worry, and an alcohol problem. A few weeks later I was somehow lucky enough to begin temping at a well known production company in Soho. After going back to Bournemouth to complete my third year of University, I was very kindly offered a role in a professional production of A Streetcar Named Desire, and was then given representation by Poole based agents, Dramatic Productions. Meanwhile, I tried to get a feature script off the ground with a group of pals on TV Production, and we began shooting what became Soap. Which is what I'll be writing about on here from now on. I was also offered a nice little job with online company streamuniverse.tv, and spent December battling exhaustion and a few other personal demons left behind by the Edinburgh experience.

Now, in 2012, I'm fatter, happier, and sober (for now).

So, Soap....

Agh, I'm all written out. You can read up on 'Soap' on the facebook, or wait 'til next time.

Happy 2012!

It's Coming To An End

Date: 26/08/11
Author: Peter

As De La Soul sang, (often as entrance music to accompany unwitting audience members who happened to stumble across Maggie’s Chamber at 4pm anytime during the last month), ‘Three Is The Magic Number’. And today’s performance marked the third last time we’ll ever have to perform this play.

I imagine the penultimate rendition tomorrow will be one of the best we do, hopefully to a response of laughter, awe, and applause, followed by the final on Sunday, where, lets face it, half the cast will be drunk, and I might play ‘Stevie’ Northern Irish (usually the character’s accent is London based, with a few other regional hints thrown in; he’s been around the country in and out of care, up North and in the West Country). Ah pointless back-story; Making actors everywhere believe their performance is worth something.

Two more shows; it’s a very strange thought. This play has marked the year 2010-2011 for me. It’s probably been the biggest piece of work I’ve ever helped create, and one of the biggest commitments I’ve ever thrown myself into. And I don’t regret it at all. The play didn’t turn out to be the festival stormer we all secretly hoped it might be, but over 500 people have seen the thing live, and hopefully been entertained. I mean, at the end of the day (as Jezza Kyle participants constantly remind us) that is the whole point isn’t it?

Obviously I’m looking forward to the comforts of home, but I’ll definitely miss Edinburgh, with its amazing architecture, rich history, and horrible weather. It’s been incredibly fun to spend so much time with the Mechanical Tiger lot, as well as my old school friends Ben, Jake and Alex, and others such as Ben’s housemates Kenny and Huw. Huw and I were best friends between about 1995-1998, before both moving school, losing touch, living in different continents, going to Uni, chatting a bit on facebook, and then ending up staying in the very same flat this month. It’s bizarre how similar we’ve turned out; there’s every reason we shouldn’t get along so well, I mean the last time we properly saw one another was when we were about 8! But I’m very glad to have had the opportunity to top up an old friendship, especially with someone who I completely ‘get’, and completely gets me, and seems to mirror my life in a weird alternate dimension way which cannot be explained by science as we know it.

I look worse physically than I have done for about a year; my eyes are deep set behind heavy bags, I haven’t jogged or been near a gym for too long and I’ve put on considerable weight. I now know how Robbie Williams feels after every tour.

My return home will mark a bit of a detox (more exercise, less booze etc) in a vain attempt to look presentable by the time Uni starts.

Apologies for this rambley and sentimental blog; I should be making the most of my time here, rather than mourning it before it ends. Right then, pub.

Look what Edinburgh has done to me(!)

Date: 23/08/11
Author: Peter

I look like a drug addled maniac thanks to this place.
Nah, it's not really because of this city, I just haven't bothered shaving for an unhealthy amount of time. The bags under my eyes are due to lack of sleep, not heroin gauntness. The shows have actually been going pretty well, and we've just completed our third 'run' of five (all of which had a great audience response).  Had another rubbish review, but I'm just glad I can now refer to myself as 'misogynist' 'psychotic chav' Peter Fellows. That's something for the CV. See, there's always a plus side.

I've finally managed to walk to the peak of Arthur's seat (and do a stupid pose)-

As well as looking like an idiot on Castle Rock (which sounds like a place name from 'The Flintstones')-

Who know's what delights tomorrow will hold....

Broken Boots, Creepy Clowns and Fecal Incontinence....

Date: 16/08/11
Author: Peter

My poor old boots are broken.

This happened about a week ago, as my strenuous moments of stage violence proved too much for their poor leather souls (see what I did there??), and they ripped themselves apart as I leapt around like a madman.

Today I discovered they were beyond repair.

I went to the Cobblers earlier, and asked the large moustached man behind the counter to repair them-

(In my nicest middle class English accent) ‘Hello fine sir, please can you fix these boots?’

‘No.’

I looked at his stern face and laughed nervously- ‘Really?’ I thought he was messing with the English kid, a favourite past time for so many of the locals here.

‘No.’

‘Seriously??’ I looked over to the man next in queue for some form of comforting smile. He looked away.

‘Cannae be done’. The old Scot’s eyes met mine. They seemed empty, sad. ‘Sometimes you’ve just got to let em go’.

I nodded, and promptly left.

Rather than listening to this sombre message I went over the road to Timpsons. This time the man was more friendly, and smiled as he told me the job wouldn’t be a problem. Until he looked at the rips along the back, and frowned as a piece of rabbit poo fell from the bottom of a boot onto his counter.

‘Well, Can you HEEL them?’ I said with a grin.

‘No. That’d better not be shite on ma counter.’

RIP expensive leather boots. You served me well.

Since this downbeat news, I’ve actually managed to keep my chin up and get some work done. And so, I’ll share with you a few brief snatches of my brilliance* (*incredibly average ramblings)

Here are three lines from ‘Soap’, the feature script I planned to finish last week (oops)....

JESS

(holding back giggles) Nope....

LOUIE

(confused) Winston Churchill....?

John drunkenly slaps the air-

JOHN

Jammy fucker!

What a work of sheer beauty.

I’ve recently managed to catch up and coming Spoken Word artist Harry Baker’s show (a young man who will no doubt be more likely to be performing at ‘Pleasance’ this time next year, with Beardyman as his warm up act), a new adaption of ‘Titus Andronicus’ (which my friend Jake hated, but I really enjoyed. A sex fuelled orgy of violence. YUM), and ‘Sheep Ahoy!’, which is the kids show normally on right before ours. As it was our day off, and he’d made the effort to watch us, I thought I’d stroll down to the Three Sisters to catch Phil’s one man extravaganza. It was brilliant. With an audience of around 60 parents and children, he captivated them entirely, and showed off a variety of skills, from illustration to comedy puppetry. AND, he has this impeccable and rare skill, of which very few can boast: The ability to be a children’s entertainer without being immensely creepy. Here’s an example of three of the more sinister variety-

1. Ronald McDonald

2. The Head 

3. This guy-

I’ll leave you with a very short extract from the short story-thing I’m trying, and failing, to write-

The inevitable knock-knock-knocking she’d told herself not to dread. Echoing up and down her spine. Don’t sweat, don’t burst into tears, don’t shit yourself, you look great. The last thing they’ll want to see is a wet faced little girl with the contents of her bowels running down her legs. Especially if THEY are a her. Obviously, it’d suck if THEY turned out to be a cute guy, but between young women turd-related bitchiness could be the wildfire of next week’s Fresher’s fair. Especially when the girl in question is, what the Year 13 yearbook described as, ‘fit’ (well, ‘2nd most fit girl’. Rosie Sutton got first. Supreme breasts). It’d be like that incident involving the light rouge puddle left on the floor of the assembly hall on the second day of the Easter term in Year 8 all over again. Bugger.

KNOCK-KNOCK (‘anyone in?’ it seemed to say. Obviously.)

She’d never known herself to lose control of important toiletry functions before, and now didn’t seem like the day she’d reach an early state of Parkinson’s based fecal incontinence. She was a mere 18, not 80.

With a scraped on smile and rapid bra-not-on-show clothing check the door swung open.

‘Alright?’

A broad grin, sparkling brown eyes, a Bieber-esq fringe. All in all, he was insanely, annoyingly, cute.

She very nearly shat herself.

So there you go. A bizarre bodily fluid related paragraph from a story you’ll probably never read. I should probably spend less time on that and more time on ‘Soap’ to be perfectly honest….

I’m off to buy some glue and gaffer tape. These boots shall live on I tell you. As God is my witness, I shall wear them again! Yeah.

Bad Poem And Other Stuff.

Date: 16/08/11
Author: Peter

The fringe! The fringe! We run to the fringe,
Full of hopes and dreams, there to be tinged.

The comedian, the actor, the singers and more,

A rainbow of talent alongside whiskey galore!

Flocking up north for a celebration of the arts,

Filling stomachs and hearts alike, with a good old Scotch tart (from Greggs).

The Englishman, the Irishman, and The Scotsman too,

They’re all here noting down quips, paid to judge you.

It’s no joke when no-one’s laughing.

Now I know why we spent so much time crafting

Our hunchback baby, our show- the play

And sped up to this tartan world, our hearts on display.

I write this in a quiet bar,

Disgusted by my poor attempts at poetry humour....

And awful, awful go at rhyming stuff.

Sorry. I’ll understand if you close this webpage and have had enough.

This bar is part of the student union here at Edinburgh University. The ceilings are high, it’s a maze of well furnished architecture, and the décor seems to date back to the 1880’s. In actual fact I’m sure it must have been refurbished in the (19)90’s, in an attempt to resemble the old building’s original quaint charm. But the illusion is definitely working.

And it most certainly provides a better working atmosphere than the BU student bar. More Hollyoaks than Hogwarts, young women must enter our boozy hell-hole at their own risk, ready to be sexually harassed by some six foot two ‘ruggerlad’, or leered at by a sports science student with a hard on and a beer-gunt. No, this bar contains meek looking men in glasses flicking through neuroscience text books, the odd middle aged tourist, and a bar maid with an innocent smile. She hasn't been sexually harassed. The ancient books lining the shelves give an impression of the Uni’s rich history (mostly old textbooks themselves), and leave the place with a charm unheard of back at home. I’ve been here before, but Sam couldn’t believe his eyes when I explained this vast room was their equivalent of ‘Dylan’s Bar’. Oh well. I guess the students here worked harder at school than we did.

This is one of the first times since coming to Scotland that I’ve actually sat down and done some proper work. I’ve ruined that now by distracting myself with this blog entry, but I was doing great, honest.

It’s difficult to fit writing into the busy Edinburgh schedule. Alongside the (almost) daily jog, important things like bank visits, trying in vain to get your boots fixed, browsing the city, and watching two or three shows a day (oh yeah, and doing that play what we wrote), extra work takes a bit of a back seat. We all came here hoping to write screenplays but have probably typed about 15 pages between us. It’s odd how tiring it is doing three or four hours of actual work (the play, promoting etc, if you can even call that ‘actual work’); probably because of the constant adrenalin buzz and rapid come-downs. I’m no doctor (officially), so I have absolutely no idea. But that’s my guess. And if anyone from the Democratic Republic Of Congo calls, I am a doctor, yes, and you don't know me, no.

I mentioned my boots a few sentences back. More about that in my next entry. You’re excited, I know it.

We’re half way through our time here now, which seems very odd. I’ve lost track of performances, days, what normality feels like. But in two and a half weeks I’ll be back down south doing (further) work experience of an entirely different nature, before returning home to my parents for a week or two.

Then back to Bournemouth, and the wonders (and random gropings) of ‘Dylans’.

*Sigh*. I really should have worked harder during my A levels. And should probably give up the poetry.

A Stroll Through A Field.

Date: 15/08/11
Author: Peter

It’s a beautiful evening. Beautiful is an over used word, but on this occasion its exploitation is perfect. I’ve got a couple of days off. My ‘mini-break’ begins with an attempted jog to the bottom of Arthur's Seat (the massive mountain thing in the middle of Edinburgh). After half an hour of badly judged navigation through the cobbled streets onto a more modern estate, I realize I'm now at least a mile past Arthur’s Seat, but on the opposite side. Twenty minutes later I’ve been through a private golf course and climbed a small wall, and am still as far from the mountain as ever. Oh well.

One shower later and I’m leisurely strolling through the Meadows. It’s about 8.30 and the air’s still surprisingly warm. Nothing to rival Mediterranean standards of course, but a rare and more than welcome occurrence here. The distant echoes of The Proclaimers greatest hit (let’s be honest, It doesn’t need to be named) follows me past the white tents of the Moscow state circus, which, weirdly, I’ve seen before in Bracknell. I wonder if they’re still using the same bearded lady.

A cute brunette sat smoking on a bench tosses a smile at me confidently. At eye contact I glance away, embarrassed. Just when you though the schoolboy self confidence issues had finally waved goodbye. I turn my attention to the Rich Fuller poster I’m approaching. Some witty soul has drawn a penis on his forehead. Ah, the culture of Edinburgh.

Two good looking blondes in their early twenties are fast approaching. This time I grin (at the less attractive of the two. More of a sure result?) and they both grimace back at me as if I’m some sort of deranged sex offender. Rejection floods through my subconscious, and is interrupted by a buzz from my pocket. A text on my sexy new Alcatel. From ‘mum’. Brilliant. If it had been on an iphone at least I’d feel trendy.

In retrospect the cute brunette was probably a sex worker.

Some spoken word and a Shakespeare later I walk home. It’s dark now. The pubs are still bustling and kebab production is already in full swing. The mood of the city has shifted. But the evening is still beautiful.

This is what pretentious theatre has done to me.

Is Professor Green Just An Evil Michael Cera....?

Date: 14/08/11
Author: Peter

Since my last post things have improved (although not for Chris. See above).

After discussing life with director Josh and fellow cast member Tom over pie and mash (and beer) my mood very rapidly lightened. You could say the alcohol was a massive help, or just the fact that I really do love pie, but I think the main thing was the realisation that we're here to have fun. Yes, FUN! There's stuff I should be doing work-wise whilst I'm here, definitely, but I think lightening up can only help the pesky work ethic.
Creating the balance between social interaction and 'me' time is definitely key to my enjoyment of this month of my life.

Yesterday we had our largest audience ever (somewhere between 60 and 100 people), and there were laughs in all the right places (and some others!). Weekends are brilliant for performers here at the Festival.

I'm watching Ibiza Rocks whilst I write this for some reason. Has anyone else noticed how Professor Green looks a bit like an evil Michael Cera....?

p.s. Thanks to Arron and Scott for their wise words on tumblr in response to my downbeat blog :)

What Are We Doing Here?

Date: 11/08/11
Author: Peter

Edinburgh’s lost some of its charm for me.

This could be a result of the heavy non-stop rainfall (dampening moods), the mixed reception to the play, or cabin fever at spending so much time together. Will I commit a murder? It’s a distinct possibility....

Ok, it’s not as bad as I’ve made it sound. As someone used to the lovely warmth of the south (Bournemouth, I promise never to curse your stuffy days and cold nights ever again), I’m not built to last in this sort of environment. It’s no coincidence that the sunnier days of the last week or so have been amongst the times I’ve enjoyed here the most. If we didn’t have to go out and flier every day, the rain wouldn’t be so bad, but an hour or so of being soaked to the bone and rejected by nine out of ten of the people you thrust a piece of paper at to the tune of ‘free comedy play at 4pm, ‘Killing Bill Gates’!!’ does grate on you a little.

Yesterday we had to cancel the show due to another performer having pulled apart the sound system at some point earlier that morning, and had to turn over twenty people away. Despite being a little disappointing, this was probably for the best, as it gave us an hour to rehearse some script changes. Taking in audience response, we’d decided to cut down on some of the more vulgar jokes (better to get no laugh than the occasional small laugh and offend someone), and twist about the lines to help with pacing.

A few weeks ago, before the Balham performance, Josh wrote an interesting entry on how reviews/instant audience reaction might affect his view on the play. After being criticized for our acting, pop references, style of humour, choreography, characters and pacing (not only by the critics) I now know what he meant. Is the play actually any good? Or does it just not appeal to the more theatrical/arty types here at the festival? After all, we are listed under ‘theatre’ rather than ‘comedy’, between a production of ‘King Lear’ and the works of Brecht or some other major practitioner. After the brilliant response we received from our friends in Bournemouth, we may have over estimated the reception we’d receive up here. Perhaps they were just being kind? Or maybe they were the precise audience who would definitely get the references and enjoy the ‘real-time’ structure and blue humour? Who knows, but, as predicted by our director, these are elements I’ve come to question in the last few days.

I’m not sure I should be posting this online, I mean, this blog is meant to be a place to big ourselves up and sell the show. If it gets removed you’ll know I got in trouble. But I think it’s more interesting to be honest and attempt to dissect how I (and perhaps the others) are currently feeling about the entire situation, than to smile and pretend that everything is dandy. No-one’s fallen out, we’re all still enjoying one another’s company (as far as I can tell) and I don’t think anyone feels as if they’re wasting their summer here. Perhaps a bit of space will be a good idea in the next few weeks, but we’ll see.

With about sixteen more shows to go, things can only get better right?

My work ethic is non existent, my appetite is more irregular than ever and I seem to be flipping from full-grinned happiness to the depths of depression by the moment (may even be evident in this post). Oh well, grin and bear it Peter, grin and bear it....

Happy Birthday.... To Me....

Date: 08/0811
Author: Peter

Edinburgh really is a town steeped in history. The beautiful architecture, Eisner style rainfall and blend of tourists with locals, peppering the place with a selection of interesting accents during Festival time only adds to the city’s strange sense of magic. And we’re here making monkey sex jokes in a pub’s back room.

A couple of days ago, I discovered a back passage (ooh err) behind our ‘backstage area’. The rough rocky walls coated in dust provided evidence of original architecture untouched for decades, which I found fascinating. Then I realised I’d missed my cue.

Just kidding, I’m far more professional than that. I spend the moments before my entrance standing against the door sweating nervously and occasionally crying.

Anyway, it’s my birthday today. I turned ‘old’ in a little old-manish pub down the road, sipping their ‘cheapest Scottish lager’ and Talisker Whiskey, as a man with a beard played Queen on an acoustic guitar. How I always imagined my birthday....

Today marks our fifth performance. I’m pretty nervous as it’ll be the first time my parents have seen the production. My mum is not a fan of swearing or crudities, so this could be an interesting experience.

Later on, we shall explore the fine dining experience of that Indian restaurant down the road. Mmm curry. But before that, we need to go out onto stage once again, and try not to embarrass ourselves too much. 4 down, 19 to go....

I’m very glad to be spending today in such gorgeous surroundings, with many of my friends. Hopefully they feel the same way....

The Difficult Second Performance

Date: 05/08/11

Peter

The Royal Mile in the rain....

Our second performance went down very well today! We also had a larger crowd and a lot more laughs!

Starting to get my head round the city, and haven't been lost for at least 4 minutes.

Shappi Khorsandi was pretty funny last night, and I really enjoyed Oliver Meech's magic show earlier at 6.30pm in the same venue as us (Maggie's Chamber, The Three Sisters). Off to see 'Debbie Does My Dad' tonight!

Cheers x

'How dare you!'

Date: 04/08/11
Author: Peter

We began our first performance with 16 members of audience. We finished with 13. Now, by my workings, that’s not too bad. On average we only massively insulted 17% of the people who came to see our show. However, the rest of them seemed to really enjoy it and we received a huge round of applause at the end. So that, combined with a fairly good laugh to joke ratio, makes me feel pretty chuffed. We were literally ‘a laugh a minute’. So that’s 83% funny, 55% of the time. Yeyah.

Tomorrow we’ll be flyering a little more efficiently, and not resorting to standing in the rain looking sad and grunting ‘free comedy’ at randomers. After our first performance on this stage, it’ll be good to give the new setting a second go too.

We’ve also received two very kind write ups on festival previews, which you can read here!

I bet you’re sick of me being the only one updating this blog by now. I’m the only one with internet. Unlucky.

A list of things I've done in Edinburgh thus far (in chronological order)

Date: 03/08/11
Author: Peter

A list of things I’ve done in Edinburgh thus far-

Got off the train, and lugged my bulky bags up the platform.

Sat at the railway station waiting for Alex Boundy and Ben Christmas.

Continued to sit at the station.

Brought a ginger beer, then waited some more.

Taxied to Ben’s flat (they’d forgotten about us).

Went to our venue, Maggie’s Chamber (The Three Sisters), had an alcoholic beverage.

Had another alcoholic beverage.

Visited the wondrous world of Tesco. Brought beverages (alcoholic).

Had chilli at Ben’s, with the cast and crew of Aireborne Theatre’s ‘King Arthur’. Lovely bunch, although I probably didn’t make a great first impression, being exhausted after about two hours sleep and making an ill timed joke about Parkinson’s (resulting in the inevitable stunned silence).

Went to the pub.

Briefly returned to the flat, dropping off a few people.

Returned to the pub. Well, club, ‘The Hive’. Pretty cool.

Moved to drum and bass club and stood about looking awkward.

Decided to go back to ‘The Hive’.

Found a guy choking on vomit and passed out en route. Talked to him ‘til Police came.

Brought, and subsequently ate cheesy chips. These were proper good ones mind, fish and chip shop/pub lunch style.

Slept.

Woke up.

Had a cup of tea, watched ‘Spaced’.

Brought Sushi. Ate Sushi.

Met up with the others at The Three Sisters.

Sipped diet coke as we did a basic tech run type thing.

Strolled down to Haymarket.

Found a lovely pub called ‘The Beehive’, whose manager gave us 50% discount on food and soft drinks.

Was served ‘a selection of pies (and mash)’ by a beautiful Irish boy.

Talked about ‘Arrested Development’, ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’ and what we’d do if we met ourself, but of the opposite sex.

Realised my phone is definitely dead.

Looked into preview tickets.

Decided not to buy any.

Went home, exhausted.

Turned on my laptop. Wrote this blog.

Yeah.

This time tomorrow we’ll have just finished our first show. Gulp.

The Train To Scotland

Date: 02/08/11
Author: Peter

I seem to spend my life on trains. Ever since an early childhood obsession with ‘Thomas the Tank Engine’, I’ve found myself ‘minding the gap’, ‘changing for Reading at Southampton Central’ and other over heard and related phrases.

I caught the train to school for a while, I’ve got the train to and from Bournemouth dozens of times in recent years, and now I’m sat in a double table seat on the way to Edinburgh with the others. Passing through York, we’re now well on our way. Although, due to no internet, I’m writing this in the past, if that makes sense. Not in a Doc Brown ‘Don’t open this letter ‘til 1985’ way, but a boring ‘write this in word and click save’ fashion.

Today’s been a long day. You can probably tell.

Unable to sleep, I lay awake, anxious and sweaty, and eventually got up at 4.30am, before trundling down to the station and boarding for Waterloo. This journey wasn’t the most enjoyable train experience ever; bustling commuters heading for the capital at six in the morning have little time for a young man with a shaved head and several large and bulky bags. At Waterloo I met Sophie, Lloyd, Matt and Chris, and we tubed to Kings Cross.

The most enjoyable part of the journey was marked by my teeth sinking into some form of greasy Mcbagel© at the Golden Arches, during the wait for our connection. Good old McDonalds; the perfect way to start, end (or anything else between) a day. Ronald McDonald and I have retained a close relationship over the years, and our gastric collaborations will no doubt one day lead to my early death. But for now, I feast!

Anyway, the day has improved since then; we’ve found our calm on the five hour straight train up over the border. Well, so far anyway. I think I can speak for everyone else when I say we’re excited, and I’m looking forward to being in Edinburgh again. It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since I went up last year (not to perform, just to ‘soak in the arts’ as uppity theatre types might say). Living in two cramped flats for a month will be, er, interesting…. Let’s hope that a) bodily fluids aren’t swapped and b) murders aren’t committed. At least not within the crew.

Chris is playing some interesting games on his Nintendo DS to my left. One involved shooting flying photos of my face with lasers. Technology eh?

It’s gonna be a long four weeks….

'Peacock' Film Screening!

Date: 01/08/11
Author: Peter

Oh look! Mechanical Tiger's short film 'Peacock' is being shown in a cinema on the 8th, as part of a screening event for up and coming film-making talent!

You can find the facebook event for this here

We're off to Edinburgh first thing tomorrow; I'll be leaving from Wokingham at around 5am. Fun....

That play wot we did.

Date: 30/07/11
Author: Peter

Yesterday: At half three in the afternoon I found myself standing outside Balham station, being stared at by an angry looking young man sucking nervously from a cigarette. After a second glance up I realised the man was in fact our producer, Matt Lavender.

‘Alright?’

‘Yeah, bit nervous about the whole play thing to be honest….’

‘Mmm, same. Pub?’

And so, we went to the pub.
Good old pub.

The pub happened to be ‘The Bedford’, where we were due to perform our play ‘Killing Bill Gates’ in just a few hours. We took our over priced diet cokes (not beer. We’re professional innit) and took a seat out front, to wait for the others.

Ten minutes passed before the Chuckle Brothers stumbled up to us arguing about a missing Oyster card whilst juggling several bags and a large flip-chart. Turns out, the Laurel and Hardy standing before us were actually Chris and Lloyd.

Joining us at the table, it wasn’t long before Josh and Tom also appeared, and an hour or so later, Sam and Sophie.

Thursday had seen me getting my head pretty much shaved by a grumpy Romanian hairdresser, who decided to rant at me about how his home country was far superior to nearby(?) Croatia. I’d also made the mistake of, when asked why I wanted my hair so short, blurting ‘I’m an actor, it’s for a part!’, which earned me a disapproving series of angry glances from the heavily tattooed football-lad types waiting behind me. Along with a dodgy nights sleep it all resulted in me looking like a crackhead, just in time for our first proper performance in front of, well, strangers. It was probably also the reason Matt frowned at me outside the Tube....

We watched MJ Hibbitt’s show ‘Moonhorse’, which was a pretty good laugh (You can read about that here), and then decided to sit outside Sainsbury’s and nervously discuss a variety of random subjects, including a remake of ‘Trainspotting’ featuring Star Wars characters (‘We all knew it was Chewey’s baby….’). It’d be a good adaption, believe me.

Then, at 9pm, we were on.

If I’m honest, I don’t really remember the actual performance. A mixture of nerves and adrenalin took care of that, but I remember a fairly busy room, laughter, and feeling a collective buzz from the group of us afterwards.

Hopefully it went well. I guess we’ll find out if/when we get a review.

I’d like to quickly thank the rest of the cast and crew, as well as everyone we knew who came to see us (My old housemate Crosby and his girlfriend Nyah, Craig Batty, Ema and Dom, and my uncle Rob, who I wasn’t expecting to see there at all!)

And so, to Edinburgh!

Cheers!

Who Am I? Classic Jackie Chan movie, to be fair. Still, not as good as ‘Rush Hour’.

Date: 28/07/11
Author: Peter Fellows

Today I finally left Southcote Road for the last time ever. I can’t say I’ll miss the ropey crack whores, broken glass, or hate crimes of Bournemouth’s infamous red light district. I should probably clarify now that I wasn’t simply visiting to sample the local delicacy and am now a reformed sex addict; I‘ve actually lived in the area for two years (and my terrible affliction is far from reformed). However, now that we’ve reached our final rehearsal I can finally kiss the grim old place behind. Maybe not kiss actually. That’d be unhygienic.

I should probably introduce myself. I realize that I rudely stumbled straight into my first blog entry earlier this week without even a basic ‘Hi there, my name’s Peter’. Well, hi there, my name’s Peter.

There’s very little of interest that I can share with you about myself I’m afraid. Obviously there are the basic facts, but those are no fun. Essential on a CV or Linkedin or something, but there’s a time and a place. And unless I’ve majorly misjudged the flavour of this blog, this isn’t one of those times. So here are five fascinating(ish) facts(ish) about me-

1. As a child I was convinced one of my grandfather’s was Popeye, whilst I secretly assumed the other was Sid James. Never told anyone that before. Now all 3 of you readers out there know.

2. One reason I decided to look into studying down south in Bournemouth was because I saw video footage of a local hero called ‘Gordon The Tramp’, who can mysteriously tell the time without a watch, as if by magic….

3. An idiot in the bank mistook me for Jack Whitehall last week. Stupidly, I attempted to incorporate this story into my stand up routine and it bombed worse than Hiroshima.

4. I have a Yorkshire Terrier called ‘YumYum’.  Walkies are fun; I’m the mentalist you see standing in an empty field shouting ‘YumYum!! YumYum!! Come here YumYum!!!!’ on your way to work every morning.

FUN FACT- I’m not the only member of MT with a Yorkie. A prize will be given to the person who guesses the other name. The prize being one whole ‘Yorkie’ chocolate bar (or similar alternative, T&C’s apply).

5. I could probably win mastermind if the topic was Judge Dredd.

Oh yeah, also, I play Stevie (the psychopathic sleaze bag. Typecast) in ‘Killing Bill Gates’.

I’m terrified of Edinburgh.

That’s about all for now, I think. Just glad to be out of The Southcote.

Cheers!

P.S. Rush Hour 3 is the best one. Unless you're talking classic *classic* Jackie Chan, in which case my vote goes to 'Police Story'.