Nicholas McInerny is Chair of Script. He has written 35 episodes of TV series, over 30 radio plays, and had plays produced at the Soho Theatre, The Orange Tree, Croydon Warehouse and The ICA, amongst others. He was the Creative Arts Fellow at Wolfson College, Oxford – and has taught extensively throughout the UK.
Here, he discusses a recent workshop of his new play, LAZYeye.
Last year I wrote a play. It was the first original theatre piece I’d written for a long time, maybe as long as five years, although I had started many times with great determination only to flounder after several scenes. So finishing LAZYeye felt like one long sigh of relief. My sense of accomplishment at actually finishing something – anything – that didn’t owe its very existence to a commission in which I was trying to anticipate the demands of others, was considerable. And I found, when I very apprehensively started to show it to others, that I had certainly written something which had ‘potential’. In fact several friends – and writers too – felt it had more than that. I was excited and invigorated. A little of my precious self confidence as a writer returned.
I showed it to Sarah Dickenson, a very accomplished dramaturge who did a lot of work with new writing. She was enthusiastic and I sensed a genuine sympathy, not just with the subject matter but the way I had approached it. We discussed a number of options for LAZYeye – one which involved drawing together a consensus on the play so far and embarking on a second draft, the other a workshop. Luckily for me Sarah was the literary manager for Theatre 503, so there was space available. Once again, I was keen to actually get the play up and see how it sounded – there really is a limit to what one can learn by staring at shapes on a page. And once again, this was a luxury denied me for many years – in both TV and Radio rehearsal is practically unheard of. I eagerly jumped at the chance.
We ran the workshop on the 13th April. Sarah had cast three excellent actors – Michelle Bonnard, Trevor White and Benedict Taylor, who very kindly gave of their time. Pushing open the door at the back of the theatre, flicking on some stage lights, and walking down the aisle, I felt a sense of assurance. Whatever would happen during the day, it was going to be alright. Better than that, it was going to be a small revelation.
The act of creative imagination is many things – and some of those are, in the final analysis, quite mysterious. You start writing consciously, and unconscious things start to push themselves to the front of your mind – and you feel compelled to respond to them. This is then reflecting in the process of working on a new text – a process both of discovery, and of evaluating exactly what it is you discover. For a workshop on a freshly minted text there must also be both a set of preordained questions which you hope will be addressed, and a reckless uncensored free-for-all in drawing out everyone’s initial response. If you can’t say anything then, when it’s all up for grabs anyway, when can you?
So Sarah and I had gone into the workshop on LAZYeye wanting to work on the play in the context of several big questions. These included the journey arc for the two main characters – Murmygan and Prentice – and specifically the circumstances under which they met. Also we had an imbalance in the play – was this a play about a struggle between two world views represented by Murmygan and Prentice in which each point of view was to be given equal weight, or was it a play in which Murmygan was central, and Prentice and the third character, Clare, reflections of the journey he was going on? Related questions around testing the emotional truth of key moments in the play were absolutely dependent on these bigger decisions. I wanted to leave that workshop which a much clearer idea of how to resolve them.
The actors brought two crucial skills into the workshop. The first is their self-absorption, by which I mean their concentration on their ‘character’ and his/her role. So whilst I found myself, for example, trying to explain motivations over the telephone beforehand to one actor who professed himself confused, that fug of confusion started to clear as he played through the role and saw himself in relation to the other actors on stage, rather than to the written play on the page. That also meant all the actors reacted instinctively to the material – and often their unmediated reactions were extremely helpful. The actor playing Clare, for example, made an observation that a lot of what Clare said was reported rather than experienced – a key reminder of the ‘Show, don’t tell’ of theatre. I made a mental note.
The second skill the actors bought was their concern with what was workable, as performance. This can often be about practical things – pragmatism takes over art very quickly when everyone’s concerned not to bump into the furniture. But to a writer it is a powerful reminder of what is possible in the theatre – a default which is hugely useful when deciding how far to challenge it. If you’re going to break the rules first of all you need to know what they are.
The format of the workshop – a reading of the play, followed by discussion, followed by another reading – was one we arrived at by intuition as much as design. Sarah had originally conceived of something different – possibly some improvisation – but once the actors got their teeth stuck into some of the issues around the characters, it seemed much more profitable to let them run with it, whilst taking copious notes. I often had to explain myself, and just occasionally felt the pressure to provide insight when I genuinely felt unsure as to what that insight might be – an example of my desire to provide answers. But gradually, as the day wore on, I became less concerned to do so – and to appear to do so. I began to trust the play itself.
For me the workshop on LAZYeye has been hugely helpful. I collated notes after a few days away from it – allowing those thoughts to settle – and after a long conversation with Sarah – fell empowered and eager to start the second draft. I know I won’t solve everything in the play – indeed have an instinctive distrust of any drama that seeks to tidy up all the loose ends – but know I need to find the space to be alone with those notes and apply myself. I told Sarah in a state of post workshop euphoria that I wanted to go away and make LAZYeye a really good piece of writing. Right now I believe that I can.
Nicholas McInerny.
Script Online 
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