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CASTAWAYS

This is a light hearted look at some of the more whimsical amateur drama characters. Do you have any in your group?

THE FLY-BY-NIGHT

Usually a large male (with an ego to match) who joins the group and bulldozes his way into a large part. Halfway through rehearsals he tells you that he also belongs to one or two other groups and can only spare you Wednesday evenings, when your usual rehearsal night is on a Friday.
You're so short of males that you feel you cannot ditch him so you compromise. He rewards you by getting so carried away on the first night that he feeds the leading lady several lines from Anouilh's 'Antigone' when you're playing his 'Ring around the Moon'.
If you can afford to, dump him.
THE LURKER

An actor or actress with little or no positional sense, who continually contrives to stand in front of and mask the leads during their big scene. The director shepherds them time and again back stage left, but they still manage to wind up centre stage in the final act and cause more traffic chaos than in Bournemouth during the Conservative Party conference.
Next time find them a job Front of House>
THE GUSHER

Usually a lady of a certain age, who finds Amateur Dramatics irresistible. She gushes over the Director, the members of the cast, the play, in fact everything and everyone except John Prescott. The flow of words never cease, especially when other people are rehearsing. You give her a small part to keep her quiet, only to discover on opening night that the gusher runs dry and the prompt has more to say than she does.
Introduce her to the tea urn.
THE DINOSAUR

Actors of both sexes who are well past their sell-by date. They turn up at play-reading sessions when you are trying to introduce young members into the group and frighten the youthful talent to death. As the future of the group depends on transfusions of youth from time to time, you have to do something. Give them a play-reading of their own.
If they have been the backbone of the group in the past, treasure them, don't patronise them and reward them with the occasional part.
THE LATE MISS WORTHINGTON

She's late for the play-reading, late for auditions and late for rehearsals.
Sorry, the car wouldn't start.
Sorry, mummy tidied away my play copy and I couldn't find it.
Sorry, I felt sure you said eight o'clock.
The only thing you can do is tell her that rehearsals start an hour before the scheduled time and hope for the best. Make sure that the character she is playing does not make her entrance until the second act.
Don't put your daughter on the stage, Mrs Worthington.
THE LAST GROUPIE

The actor or actress who is never satisfied with the way you are working. "We did things so differently at the Upper Bludgington Players." They badger the director, spend their time nit-picking at the rest of the cast, the play, even the weather. "We did this play so much better at Upper Bludgington." Their view of past events owes a great deal to a highly devloped imagination and to rose coloured glasses.
Confidentially you wonder whether they left their last group voluntarily. Buy them a ticket back to Upper Bludgington.
THE SICK NOTE

The actress whose throat suffers from more fits and starts than a Russian made Lada on an icily cold January morning. Her voice is so temperamental that it fades into oblivion if the director even looks at her askance. She gives him a tortured look which would be just right to portray Joan of Arc. She has more tinctures, sprays, cough lozenges and inhalants than Boots the Chemist's window during their January sale. She misses as many rehearsals as she attends, yet on opening night she is word perfect and her dulcet tomes can be heard with clarity at the back of the auditorium and during the quarrel scene she bawls and shouts like a navvy. Back stage again, she can only manage a whisper.
Cosset her.
THE HIP HOP PAIR

She's only there for the laughs and the firtations. He's only there for the laughs and the beer. Only there's no beer and he's continually disgruntled. They continually play juvenile tricks on the other members - the itching powder, the whoopee cushion, the electric handshake. They leave more destruction in their wake than a Force 10 gale.
"It's only a jape." they say, "Good clean fun. Don't take it so seriously!"
You can always set the dogs on them, unless the ban against hunting with dogs has become law, in which case slip a large dose of laxative into their cocoa.