I am waking up early because the shutters in my bedroom don't close completely, so was having breakfast at about 7.30 and chatting to Justin Moorhouse who arrived like an inefficient and tired thief in the night, forgot to steal anything and then went to sleep in one of our beds. The gigantic Goldilocks. JRT are here. Only the A to come now.
Again I astonished myself with my fitness levels at the gym, easily managing a 40 minute 6.3km run on the running machine and barely breaking a sweat and then doing another 20 minutes on the exercise bike. The lack of alcohol and the shedding of some fat has clearly given me a lot of energy, though later I was worried that I might start flagging. My show is much later than usual (a 9.45 start and didn't go up til after 10 tonight) and I was a bit sleepy in the afternoon.
But there was no time to sleep. I had to think about the new bits in my show and then go and meet my girlfriend at the station. Somehow she had contrived to pack her medium sized suitcase so full for her 12 night stay that I was hardly able to lift it up the steps (and you know how super fit I am). What do women pack, hey fellas? Bricks is it? (TAP TAP) Is this thing on? I am pretty sure this blog microphone is broken. This keeps happening?
I was unusually nervous about the show. In quite a good way. It was the nerves of anticipation and I was excited, but I was noticeably affected, which I hardly ever am. I feel like I may have turned a corner a little bit and was extremely excited that I had sold enough tickets to fill the place (The Assembly Rooms hold some tickets back for press and comps, but if these don't get used then they are put on sale at the last minute- a good tip for the unprepared for mine and other shows at this venue - I think there may have been one ticket unsold).
Things were inevitably running late, but I had a weird sense of deja vu as Paul Zerdin the ventriloquist who had the slot before mine in the White Belly last year turns out to have the slot before me in the Ballroom this year. That is an odd coincidence, but it was actually quite nice to have that connection and continuation. He was getting big laughs too as I changed into my new show suit and sandals and readied myself. The Assembly Rooms is a terrific venue and there's space to get prepared and unlike at the White Belly more than one toilet, which is accessible, has lots of stalls and (at least at the moment) doesn't have piss all over the floor. This was a definite pre show bonus as my nervousness meant I had to make a couple of visits.
And the show went well. I was standing backstage, poised to move some slides during the intro music on manually as I had failed to set them up to change automatically and wondering how many fuck ups there would be and how long we'd get into the show before something went wrong. As it turned out the first mistake came immediately. The tech guys had clearly tried out the intro track, but then forgotten to return it to the beginning, so they played Handel's Messiah, but from too far in, at a point where Andrew Collings' Mr Bean introduction had already been played. I hoped they would spot the error and either restart the CD or turn on the off stage mic so I could introduce myself, but they didn't. So I just shouted from off stage (which I don't think really registered) and walked on in the dark, laughing at the fact that the first mistake had come so soon. "But that's why you're only paying a fiver today," I told the audience, who luckily laughed. I was slightly thrown by the cock up though and had looked forward to coming on stage and making some celebratory opening remark, but it was not to be.
Still it didn't really matter and the show zinged along with laughs all the way. I felt a bit detached from it and made a few slip ups (it's five nights since I've done the show and I had to stretch my brain a little to remember some of it). But all the time it felt pretty amazing. I was performing to 345 (or maybe 344) people on the first day of the Fringe. I have never experienced anything like this in all these years. After all the struggle to get people in, at last there was now the feeling that I was established enough on the Fringe to be one of the performers that people booked to see. I am glad I have had the struggle (though I wasn't at the time) because it makes a day like today all the more meaningful. But it was another landmark in this year where they are coming relatively thick and fast. Hopefully people will keep coming once the tickets are full price, but my wildest hopes were that I might sell out this room a handful of times, so to do so on the first night is awesome.
The only major problem was that I overran by probably about 15 minutes. There have been a lot of additions and even though I ploughed on through most of the laughs that does add on time. I am going to have to lose some big chunks and will probably make the argument at the end less complex and closer to what it was in the original show. But it's all good ammunition for the tour. I have no idea how I will shave 15 minutes off this thing though. Hopefully I can get away with 65 minutes. We will see.
My voice has not quite recovered from my cold and was cracking a little and I was wiped out once it was all over, but managed to keep up my resolve and celebrated with a cup of peppermint and liquorice tea, before heading home exhausted. I felt a bit too detached from it all and worried about time and what was next in the script to enjoy the experience fully, but if it carries on being like this then I think this should be the most enjoyable Fringe yet. I commented to Alice who is running Avalon's shows this year that the 344 people who saw the show tonight was probably more than paid to see the entire 2 week run of Christ on a Bike that I had done in London in 2002. There is something very satisfying about giving this old show the run out it deserves.
It all makes up for the fact that the tour show in Aberdare has been cancelled. I am not sure they had realised the subject matter when they booked it in, but I think it's more to do with the realisation that I was going to be performing there the day before Good Friday. I made an off hand remark on Twitter apologising to the people of a town (where probably very few people would have come to see me anyway) and enjoying the Life of Brian style controversy (which was also banned in one town in Wales) and joking that now I knew how Stewart Lee must have felt with the Jerry Springer tour. But in reality everyone had acted with dignity and probably correctly. It's up to the theatre what they put on and they seemed keen to have me back another time and I could sort of see their point. I don't think of Christ on a Bike as a controversial show though and most of the Christians who have seen it have enjoyed it and welcomed the discussions it provokes. Some people won't like it, but I doubt they would come, but it still slightly galls me that my shows get judged from their titles, because if people saw the whole thing then they might be surprised. Having said that I have done shows about Hitler, Jesus, cocks and (most controversially) yoghurt, but it's not a deliberate desire to create news stories.
Still "Banned in Aberdare" would make a good poster quote if I wanted to go for sensationalism, though "The decision was made that it might be needlessly confrontational to put on the show on the day before Good Friday in Aberdare, so all parties concerned agreed to pull the gig" might be a more accurate assessment.
Having read of Stew Lee's troubles in his recent book I am just hoping it doesn't get banned anywhere else.
Anyway, we're off. So far so good. Very much looking forward to the rest of the run and to the arrival of Andrew Collings - though I won't be carrying his suit case back from the station. Shame really as it will only be full of oat milk and false hopes.
