Stepping into multiple roles

What does an actor do when he's had a fairly lean year and is keen to get back on stage? Take on the biggest challenge of his acting career to date. And that is just what I have taken on, with a role in The 39 Steps. I will play one of two clowns, who will bring to life more than 140 characters between them. Forget costume changes. There is no time. Instead, the clowns will use fake moustaches, hats, coats, aprons and props to distinguish between the different characters. Each character will also need a unique accent, mannerisms and movements. Well, here comes a huge step in my acting career. Stay tuned...

Back on the boards

Yes, it's been a long time. But you can't keep a good actor down, as they say. I am back on the boards, with a role in Agatha Christie's famous play The Mousetrap, due to be staged at Chelmer in September. I will be the suspicious character Mr Paravicini. Is he who he says he is? I don't even know yet. Am I the murderer? Can't tell you that. You'll have to come and see for yourselves. Stay tuned. Details to come...

The art of backstage archery

An arrow protruded from my chest in Deathtrap, as I came tumbling down the stairs and fell at the feet of actor John Sayles, while he was still clutching the bow. A dramatic scene, made even more so with thunder and lightning.
But how was an arrow able to protrude from me, without actually piercing my skinny little chest? You may well ask.
Fellow actor Chrissy Russell fashioned a cup on a belt, tied around my chest under the jacket I was wearing. When going offstage, Chrissy helped me on with the jacket, already stained with fake blood. Then she took a shortened arrow and stuck it through the already drilled hole in the jacket, ensuring the end was secure in the cup, so it did not fall out.
Just as well for us, the arrow did not fall out as I made my dramatic falling entrance. Instead, I fell at John's feet looking for all the world like a dead playwright.

End of the road for villain

No more arrow-heads protruding from my chest. No more rising from the grave. No more blood dripping down my neck. It's a wrap on the Samford set of Deathtrap. After six performances, I have said goodbye to my most challenging role to date, that of Clifford Anderson.
For those who did not get to see Deathtrap, it was a black comedy and thriller rolled into one, with plenty of blood, violence and witty threats to keep audiences laughing and squirming. And I loved every minute of it!
I played a young playwright who sends his first play to older and established playwright Sidney Bruhl for feedback. The older playwright has a massive case of writer's block. He jokes with his wife Myra that he might kill Clifford and claim the play as his own. And that is what he does, using a garotte. Then Clifford comes back from the grave, all covered in blood and dirt, to beat Sidney to a pulp. Myra is a witness to the beating. When Clifford turns on her in his most menacing way, she has a heart attack and dies.
This is when the fun really starts. As soon as Clifford confirms Myra is dead, Sidney gets up from his fake beating. The audience realises the two playwrights had planned the whole thing, hoping Myra would have a heart attack. And all that happens in the first act.
I won't continue the tales of woe that follow, but say just this: the play was very demanding. The timing of lines and actions had to be spot-on. I had to struggle with principal actor John Sayles in the strangling scene, as well as later on during the twist in the tail. I had to fall three times, resulting in plenty of bruises. I also had to built up a believable character, one who went from a seemingly innocent young playwright to a calculating bastard who would stop at nothing for money and fame.
Having said all that, it was a great opportunity and loved every second of it. Nailing the performances was such a thrill.
For now, though, I am happy to let the bruises heal and enjoy not having to learn lines every night. Goodbye, Clifford...

Ritually speaking

Theatre is one place where rituals and superstitions reign supreme. Forget tennis players having to bounce the ball three times before a serve. Thespians are a far weirder lot.
I'll start with a few examples. One actor I have worked with gives fellow thespians a match just before curtain up on opening night and says ''touch wood''. A male actor I know gives all the females on the cast a red rose ahead of curtain up, but only if he is the lead in the production. Another male actor has to drink a red drink before each show and becomes quite hysterical if he forgets to bring it.
Then there are the actors who won't talk to people backstage before curtain up because they have to get into character. One would withdraw even before each rehearsal so she could find her ''emotional obligation''. Yet another would crack jokes and bring us all to tears of laughter just before we were due to go on, as a way of distracting himself from thoughts of the job at hand.
I know of seasoned actors who can't eat before a production because of nerves and other still who can't drink for fear of having to use the toilet while waiting backstage.
One actor applies make-up at home, though I think this could have something to do with convenience, rather than superstition.
So, what are my rituals and superstitions? I go over my script once backstage before going on stage to keep the lines fresh. But only once. I don't want to overdo it and create panic in that little brain of mine. Otherwise, it's all fine. No red drink. No red roses. No skipped meals. Just showing up is just about ritual enough for me...

Smelling of roses

A second critic has written a review about one of my plays and again I come up smelling of roses. Hooray to Ray Swenson. This is what he had to say about my role in Deathtrap, playing at Samford until April 10:

De Wit plays his part with gusto and between (de Wit and fellow actor John Sayles) they have the audience changing quickly form raucous laughter to deadly silence.

I could write more, but that would give away the plot. So come and see it!

All for my art

Bruises are liberally sprinkled across my legs and arms. My role as playwright Clifford Anderson in the Ira Levin thriller Deathtrap is a challenging one, with plenty of lines to learn and actions to remember. But it was only last week that I realised just how much of the action would cause pain and bruising! I can't say too much about what causes the bruising, because that would be giving away too much to audiences. But let me tell you this: I am bruised and battered for my art. In fact, I will do almost anything for my art, except take my clothes off. The world is breathing a sigh of relief at that news!