Still Grooving...

... but still listening to Coldplay. Trying to find a tour booker. Arranging Print for the performance of Henry V - Lion of England at the mac, Birmingham, on 25 and 26 January. (Tickets, by the way, from 0121-440 3838!)

Fascinating innit! And I'm sure somethings supposed to be happening next week, around 25th December. It'll come to me soon...

A Last Christmas at Chrysalis

14/12/2007 01:48am

I’m moved to blog now, because I’ve had a bit to drink and I've just got back from my last Chrysalis Radio works Christmas party in Birmingham. Or not Chrysalis Radio, but the company that took them – us – over.

All of the Arrow staff and presenters have been made redundant with a weeks’ notice and on Saturday I’ll record my last ever Arrow radio show. And I suppose I’m moved to write because I think it is the last time I shall see many of those people I was with tonight and the night was quite nice - apart from the end. The bash was a free bar and nice finger food and as always, I was struck by the youth and beauty of most of my colleagues. It's ironic that the venue for this last bash is the very same venue where I attended my first Chrysalis radio party some 6 years ago. Many of the regular radio people working on the other stations are sympathetic about the Arrow's mass sacking, particularly as some of the people who have been laid off were the talented management that established the other Chrysalis radio brands in the first place. Some of my Arrow colleagues won’t go to the party because it’s too painful. But I tell myself I have the theatre and I should be magnanimous.

I spend some time talking to a lovely bloke who looks about 12 and does the drive time show on the top youth brand radio station in the Midlands, even though the station plays R&B and he used to work at a rock station. Right on cue, he freaks out and rushes to the dance floor when the party DJ plays Nirvana.

The night finishes and we all move to the main street from the venue and, although we talk loudly about maybe going on somewhere else, it’s not really going to happen for me. So I say good bye and walk to the street. I see a cab and the cabbie opens the window. I tell him where I want to go and he waves me in. As we move off I look up and I see the 12 year old R&B DJ with a girl whose name I don’t know, although she was at the party and looks very pretty, with a long dress and a thin black hair band. I smile at him. He’s obviously looking for a cab too, because he looks at me outside the roadside door and I hear him say, “How did you get in this cab?” We’re moving off, so I think about asking him where he wants to go and maybe we can share. But as I think about gesturing to them and asking the driver to wait, sweet young girl looks at me.

“You smug, fat, fucking wanker”, she intones with a snarl on her face, and flicks me the fingers. My smile freezes. It’s horrible and then we’re gone. I don’t know why I find it so upsetting. I don't know her and I'm assuming she's very drunk. But she doesn't know me either. Maybe it’s a lesson in real life. I’m trying to be nice and honourable about a company that’s just sacked a whole radio station for the bottom line. More profit. Maybe the incident reminds me how fickle some people can generally be. It feels brutal and a mass sacking is brutal too. End of careers. On the scrap heap. How can that girl be so abusive to someone who’s invested so much time in her profession? I imagine, although I think its fancy, that 12 year old turns round and says “Take it easy. He’s a nice bloke that’s been made redundant and why should you feel so much anger about him being in a taxi? There are more taxis to come and we’re trying to cheat anyway by jumping in from the middle of the road”. But I doubt he will.

Around round the corner we stop at traffic lights and I see my boss walking down the deserted street. He cuts a lonely figure and I think about winding the window down and asking him if he needs a lift or wants to share the taxi, although we don’t live near each other. He’s a hugely talented radio programmer and manager, now out of a job too. But I’ve fastened my seat belt and can’t reach the window easily. And maybe he feels like the walk? After all, he’s been full time at the station for some thirteen years of his life. What if he needs some time on his own? I hesitate. That's rubbish. I should just undo the seat belt, wind down the window and see if he wants a lift. But then the lights change and it’s too late. I guiltily watch his retiring back. But then I think, after the incident with the sweet young girl, maybe I’ve been too honourable about too much shite already. And maybe it’s time for me to allow myself to feel put upon and a bit sad and a bit angry and look after number one for a while. So I banish all thoughts of guilt and stare ahead into the dark, cold night and allow the taxi to whisk me home to my new, radio-less life.

Bollix...

...they're closing The Arrow radio station. Sacked again...!

PS Drive around listening to Coldplay. It's that kind of day.

Contracts, contracts everywhere...

A bit of a panic this week. And as usual it's lack of dosh. Although it's not a blind panic, because if I can get through to February, the income from Henry should pay for itself. But there are some outstanding bills from creating the show that should have been paid by now and haven't been. As usual, I'm having to fund Maverick Theatre myself and the unexpected lack of income from my failed London contract has left me short, to say the least. It's not nice to be back in the place I found myself during the Billesley Pub Theatre days - broke and constantly begging favours and forgiveness.
So as usual, I try not to dwell on the unpleasant and focus on what I can do about it. I actually have a three year plan that should make Maverick a fairly major player in UK theatre. But it all depends on having the money to allow me to execute that plan. I've done a business plan, which has drawn wry, sympathetic smiles from the odd business type I've shown it to. I look at some of my urbane Oxbridge mates and decide to once again blame my council estate roots and upbringing. It's a useful device, being a scrag end in a world of prime steaks!
I decide to read my interview in Arts Report again. It was conducted on-line, but it's not vanity that draws me to it. Not at all. But I noticed when I first read it that the very form of being interviewed by a proper journalist makes me feel somehow proper. Not some stupid aging git with wild, pointless ideas sitting at a computer in the back room of a scruffy house in Brum, but a 'real' person, with a real career, living a full life. There. I feel better already. Now to return to my 'career' and the pile of contracts I've not yet returned for the Spring tour of Henry V - Lion of England.

And talking of interviews, here's one that appeared in the Brighton Argus about Henry. I'm not too sure about the kids thing, but Henry's always been attractive (and occasionally scary) to the young. And it's a great image of Ed. If you can't read it, I'll try and post a bigger copy on the website, www.mavericktheatre.co.uk

Henry V - Lion of England. The Movie! (sort of...)

Hoorah! Me first video! This is very rough and is my first attempt with a little mini DV camera I got back in August for my birthday. Spot the not so deliberate mistake in the opening caption. November 2008? I think that should read 2007.

I've also found an editing programme on this computer called ULead, and as it's free, I've tried to edit with that. If you know any other or better free editing software, please let me know.

I've always been taken with the drama and power of the visual image and, indeed, wrote a storyboard for a film version of Henry V - Lion of England back in 1993. In 1997 (flippin' eck, TEN years ago!) I made a short film for ITV's First Cuts called 'Boy, Girl, Boy, Bike?' I may try and get it up on here, although it was made in the days before Digital media and I think I only have a VHS copy, so I'm not sure how the technology works. It's about 12 minutes long and is a sweet rites of passage tale with the lovely kids who were involved in my production, 'A Ghost of A Chance'.

This little film looks backstage at Brighton and is, I hope, a bit of a teaser for our Spring Tour, which is going ahead despite funding problems. Myself and Deborah, our part-time administrator, are going to pitch a bank for working capital, given the excellent tour Penny, the booker, has arranged for the Spring. It's a bit more urgent for me than anyone else, as my house is on the line! But somehow I've managed to survive this long and my plans for the next 3 years will mean Maverick will be in a very strong position, if I can just get through the next three months...!

Early morning. Nearly

In an attempt to get into the habit of blogging more often, as an archive of what Maverick is up to, I'm going to be a bit less candid and guarded, I think. Right. So. Here we go then. Let's hope Birmingham City can hammer the Villa at Sunday's Derby. There! How's that for controversy!

Elsewhere, Lou (Stage Manager) and Ed (actor) arrive an hour or so ago at The Elgiva Theatre in Chesham, Bucks, to find that non of the lights for Henry V - Lion of England have been pre-rigged, which adds about three hours to the time it will take to get the theatre ready for the show tonight. I'm not sure who is at fault, but I must find out. Not to point a pointless finger of blame, but to make sure it doesn't happen again. On Sunday we are in Brighton and have a matinee, so I must make sure Brighton pre-rigs, or we won't make the first show!

I'm orf meself to Chesham later. I also intend to see a lovely friend of mine, who I worked with at BRMB Radio. She has five boys. Or at least had five boys. She's just lost her youngest son in a tragic accident. It would not be prudent to give details, but it puts no pre-rigged lights into perspective. The poor, sweet girl. I wish I could make it all go away for her, but I can't. But I really wish I could.

Oooo ent technology grand...!

I'm feeling guilty that I've not blogged for a while, particularly, and perhaps because, this is a fairly crucial and formative time for Maverick and, I have to say, me personally. So this is an apology, but guess where I'm writing this? In me fave curry house, the Sylhet Spice, in Kings Heath, Birmingham, with a couple of pints of God's Nectar. Or Cobra, as they call it. When I think of the cost and size of computers just a few years ago and now here am I able to blog whilst waiting for a takeaway! I'm not sure why, but it makes me feel good about life and things. Or is that the short term result of God's Nectar. Mmmm.

We few... we happy few...

I wake this morning with something of a headache. Pete, radio Producer of the Breakfast show on Heart 100.7 fm, is a good old boy, and leaving to present the breakfast show on BBC Radio Stoke. I think. So we go for a farewell drink at All Bar One in Birmingham city centre at 5pm. Should be home by about 7 ish, I think. I'm wrong. Not sure what time I got home but there's an uneaten takeaway curry in me kitchen this morning. Nice one, Pete.

Hello, Goodbye.

Well, what a month it's been. For 2 weeks I was working for an American University at Shakespeare's Globe in London. It must go down in history as a job with the longest interview period and the shortest actual period of work. I first interviewed for it 18 months ago and lasted 2 weeks in the position. It was not quite what I expected and I was not quite what they expected. I won't go into details yet. But there are some lovely and dedicated people working at Shakespeare's Globe and I hope I haven't inconvenienced them by quitting so soon. I'm not normally a quitter, but life is sometimes too short and it was bad timing on my part to start a demanding job with an American company at the same time as the Henry V - Lion of England tour starts - which it did this week. It coincides nicely with Maverick becoming a 'proper' Limited Company and marks the start of what I hope will be greater independence for the company.

Talking of Henry - Henry V - Lion of England kicked off its latest incarnation with two dates this week - a preview performance at Hall Green Little Theatre in Birmingham and its first tour date at the Leighton Buzzard Theatre in Beds.

Both productions have moments good and bad. I keep forgetting I've created something of a monster for all concerned. This play is the Grand National Beecher's Brook of productions and places incredible strains on not just the actor, but the technical crew too. The levels of skill needed to present 80 minutes of Henry with its hundreds of light, sound and effects cues are more akin to a major West End musical than a small scale traveling production. But we get by; Ed Actor, Louise Stage Manager, Robb Music, John Lights and Emma Set do themselves, Maverick and me proud. And both productions are imbued with audiences generally raving about how good it is. Not good enough for us yet, but it will be. And I have an eye on the bigger picture. Watch this space!

Ooo it's all gone a bit pear shaped in London, so I'm not working there anymore. Best for both of us, methinks. However...

ONE NIGHT ONLY!

Special Preview Peformance

Henry V - Lion of England.

Tuesday 18^th September, 2007at 8pm.

Hall Green Little Theatre

Pemberley Road, Acocks Green, Birmingham, B27 7RY Tickets £10 (concs available)
Tickets (0121) 707 1874. www.hglt.org.uk

Film star glamour!

But not if you don't like car parks! Check out purgatory on You Tube.

Ah, me!

Pass The Jellied Eels, guv'nor...!

After 50 years in Birmingham, I am now a Londoner. Until May 08 anyway. I'm now Resident Director for Rutgers University at Shakespeare’s Globe on the South Bank. What a place! And what a great bunch of people. So far, anyway!

This is a picture of my new office. Tales From My Riverbank will start soon enough, but the last few months have been 12 to 14 hour days and although the Maverick Theatre Henry V tour is calming down, nothing else is!

Better than boredom though, eh?

Oh, and if you're thinking of burgling my house, don't bother. My nephew, 'Killer' Matt is house sitting. He'd LOVE someone to try and break in. Not sure where his genes come from, but they're occasionally useful to point at bad people!

Blimey, look at the time!

Its August already! I've not written anything on here for nearly a month - which is the opposite of what I wanted to do. I wanted to relate my journey, as t'were! But it's indicative of how hectic the journey has become that I've not really had time to write anything. Wanna know what my day consists of? Check out this interview by freelance writer Angela Merideth. But I will tell you, as I mentioned on the Maverick Theatre blog, that I feel a bit like that bloke in the Magnificent Seven. First there was me and the play. Then I found Ed, our actor. That makes two of us. Now a Stage Manager. Three. And possibly a Deputy Stage Manager. Four. Tom is going to film the process. Five. John will do the lights. Six. And I'm nearly ready to jump on the Henry Hoss and ride triumphantly to a theatre near you soon!

We've finished the first 'chunk' of rehearsals. Ed the actor is now off for a month holidaying and filming. We all get together again in early September. So I should have more time to write. Hoorah for us all!

Ola Baby!

I've never been very good at holidays. And it's NOT a good thing. Possibly because since the age of about 22 I've never had a 'proper' job with holidays and, more importantly, holiday pay. But it's also to do with feeling guilty at working and guilty at not working. And during the Maverick years holidays were not a luxury I could afford anyway. So it was feckin' great going to Spain for four days with some mates last weekend. We also saw the Rolling Stones as part of their Bigger Bang tour. I wasn't a huge Stones fan, although they are almost a mainstay for my radio station, The Arrow, but having seen this gig, I am now!

It's enough to make you weep!

I've spent most of the day scanning production photos to upload to the Maverick web site. It's been strangely moving. Looking back at 13 years of actors, directors and technicians, all working for very little money in the upstairs room of a pub that no one had heard of.
The one picture I find particularly moving is a photograph of the original PALS cast. It's not a set up, but a photo that was taken at the end of an actual show. And the tears are real. Every night, without fail, the cast were crying for real. It was dynamite. In the small upstairs room of the Billesley Pub there was a unique, raw collective outpouring of grief and emotion from every audience. PALS is about 4 kids growing up in Birmingham. I won't give the end of the play away, because it's obvious we've got to do it again. The only time I've experienced that collective power has been at the end of Les Misereables and maybe Blood Brothers by Willy Russell. Good bed fellows for PALS, me thinks!

Kind of makes all the aggro worthwhile, dunnit!

Sob!

Can You Hear Me Mother?

Things have been a bit busy. I've been Mr Radio for the last 2 weeks on The Arrow, filling in for Dave Hickman on the afternoon show. Holiday relief. The money's a bit of a relief, I can tell you. Every little helps...

I interviewed Black Sabbath this week - or at least the reincarnation of the band, post Ozzy, 'Heaven and Hell', with Ronnie James Dio and Tony Iomi. I felt I did badly, but the guys were great. I'd not prepared enough. Like, have I just spelled their names correctly! The lack of preparation was not completely my fault, but I'm the one at the sharp end, so no excuses Hennegan.

Chastened by the experience, I made sure I was more on the ball with my second interview this week, with the band Ash. Much better, Nick. And although Tim Wheeler and Mark Hamilton are now living in New York and Richard McMurray, the drummer, is now living in Edinburgh, they're good mates with U2 and I can report that music from the wonderful island of Ireland is in very good hands.

I had some very friendly phone calls from Arrow listeners throughout the UK and although it curtailed my time on Maverick, I have to say its been quite enjoyable.

And we are advertising on the website for the new 'Henry V' team. Although the website is still not finished, I think I shall let people know of its existence. Start the ball rolling if only slowly!

Rock On!

Hoorah for the New Maverick!

Apart from actors and directors, only myself and John Slater have worked in any way 'full time' on Maverick. The lovely Carol Edwards did our books for a short time before her job got in the way and there have been numerous and very wonderful volunteers taking various roles, but long term there has only been Slates and me. And now there's only me, mainly because of the crippling economics of presenting truly accessible, intimate and AFFORDABLE theatre - and paying everyone a living wage. Maverick never really paid a living wage. We just tried to do the best we could, balancing, as I misquote Hamlet, 'delight and dole' and hoping that one day the funding bodies would get what we were trying to do and rush to the financial rescue. Sadly, although vocally supportive, they never really did and although occasional drunken vitriol at the injustice of it all would grab us on a night down the Billesley after rave reviews, I commit almost heresy here when I say I can't really blame them. The arts after all, is your money. Public funds. They have to be very careful with it. And we - or at least I - just were not smart enough to get our concept over to the funders in terms they might understand.

Which means I'm personally a bit pissed off by the Govt raiding the lottery for the Olympics. But that's another story.

I hope the New Maverick (blimey, I'm sounding a bit like the Government meeself!) will change its fortunes soon. Watch this space.

Happy Birthday, Sir Ed.

It's again been a busy few weeks. I'm bashing away at the new Maverick website - find it at http://www.mavericktheatre.co.uk/ And we may have Maverick's first full-time, part-time administrator. Watch this space.


I did a couple of extra radio shows this week too - filling in for Ian Danter. Best Seat In The House is an hour of live music at 11pm tonight and Rock with Laughter is a mix of comedy and music at 11pm on Saturday night. The sort of 'different' radio that gives The Arrow and DAB a good name!

I've also started a 'retail' bit on the website, called The Shakespeare Shop, with some great gift ideas and collectors items. It's been onerous, but quite good fun, finding stuff in shops and off t'interweb to sell on the site. And any profits will go to the theatre company. Warm glow all round! And it's tied up with pay pal, which is a great way to pay! Give it a go. Gooo onnn, you KNOW you want that Globe Theatre First Day Cover!

And it's Elgar's 150th Birthday this week. He's well tied up with the Midlands and interestingly, he went to London to try and make his fortune - but he failed and came back to Worcestershire with his tail between his legs. No comment.

I had the professional rights to produce the play 'Journey's End', by RC Sheriff a few years ago. I felt it was ripe for a production. But the size of the cast put me off. Not the size, but the cost! It had a very successful run in the West End not long ago. The production and the play are all tied up with Birmingham through a fairly convoluted route that involves Birmingham Old Rep theatre - the first Rep Theatre in the world! And the whole point of this rant is that we were planning on using Elgar's Nimrod at the end of the production. Glenn Bayes, a local actor who had obvious directorial skills, had worked out a lovely end to the piece. I won't say what it was, because I think we're going to use it in Henry V - Lion of England! But it was good.

Glenn is a Brummy Boy, who, unlike Elgar, went to London ten years ago and hasn't come back to Birmingham. In fact, thinking about it, many of the early Maverick talent is now down the smoke. Glenn's gone, Rebs ran and no more hangin' in Kingstandin' for our Andy.

I'd like to buy Sir Ed a pint. But he's 150. I think I might go to London.






An early amateur production of 'Brighton Beach Memoirs' at Hall Green Little Theatre, Birmingham, in about 1991 ish. Of the seven people pictured, four would be directly involved in Maverick Theatre. Three are now living in London. (Photo: Haydn Thomas)

Strewth Mate! What a tragedy!

Hot News. Funding crises in the Arts? The Olympics might actually bring some benefit to those OUTSIDE London? No. Worse. THE BBC ARE TO STOP SHOWING NEIGHBOURS! Yes it's BBC Curtains for the Aussie Soap!

It's some sort of bidding war, but they know not what they do, poor fools. For years presenting plays, mainly at the Billesley Pub in South Birmingham, myself and many of my fellow artistes would regail each other with tales of our regular breakfast television treat. It was a treasured routine for us pub thesps! Show, Beer, Curry, bed at 4 or 5am, then up with a spring in the step for our Breakfast Television - The 1 o'clock news on the BBC and then Neighbours. Real life like!

Sadly, with the current pressure of re-starting the Maverick, I now find myself getting up in the middle of the night... 9am, a ridiculous time, I know. But the old habit dies hard and I retire with a cup of tea and a marmalade sandwich come 1.40pm each day to luxuriate with my daily dose of Aussie bimbo's and blokeo's, laughable plots and vacuous characters.

So it looks like it'll be Neighbours with commercial breaks! BBC. Why oh why oh why! I am a license payer! And what about the health service. And immigration. The fabric of the country. And the youth of today! The worlds gone mad, I tell you...

Could be some exciting stuff goin' down...!

...but I can't really announce it to the world yet. It's not me being mysterious, it's just that it's not good to count your chickens before they've hatched, etc. And my eggs may have only just been fertilized, if you get my meaning...!

But here's a pictoral clue!


Well, slap my thigh and call me Roger, sirrah! T'is a Theatre most Globe-ish. And most Shakespearean.

And talking of London theatrical buildings, if you ever went to the Webber Douglas Academy, prepare for a shock. For now, in the best traditions of photo-journalism, here's a trail of pictures.

The Scene of the Crime! Clareville Street.


Bloody hell! Someone's nicked the Webber Douglas and left a skip outside in its place!




Yep, the hole in the ground behind the black gates is all that is left of a nearly hundred year old drama institution. Shame, innit. And I didn't even go there!

Elsewhere this week, I'm still working on the new website. I haven't advertised it anywhere yet as I'm still finding content and stuff. You can take a sneak peak at www.mavericktheatre.co.uk . I'd appreciate any comments. And the old website still lives, here.


Off to the City of Birmingham tomorrow to see if I can get any support for my Brave New Maverick World. Mmm. Watch this space!

Busy Website week

Maverick is about to get a new website. I've found a package I can do myself. Our current website was very kindly produced by a lovely bloke called Brian who was so bowled over by the Maverick Pub Theatre concept, he wanted to help and did our website for free. Or at least not completely free. The usual Maverick fee of a pint and a curry. Very kind of him, although if you look at it now, you'll see it's hopelessly out of date because Bri is no longer in the Midlands and the secret of how we update the friggin' site has dissapeared up the M6 with him. It's not SO crucial for a theatre company to have a website, but I really want to get as much as possible ready for when we hit the road with our small scale tour.

It's very odd really. In spite of my comparative lack of success so far with my Business Plan, I really do think we are going to make an impact on the national theatre scene over the next few years. It's not arrogance, I hope, or blind optimism and I'm not talking about being the next Cameron Macintosh or Bill Kenwright or Peter Hall, but just a belief that the stuff I like will rattle other peoples cages too. And if I can scrape a living out of it, that will be just fine by me. I've a GREAT idea for something about Tony Hancock! Watch this space!

Actually, I lied about Brian making our first website. The very FIRST Maverick website was produced by Justyn, who was 13 when we cast him opposite the talented Paul Henry in A Ghost of A Chance, a play wot I wrote and which won a Guinness Award through the National Theatre. After his acting duties Justyn used to hang around with me and Slater and came in to do various odd jobs during his school holidays. After the Billesley pub production we went to Edinburgh and I became very fond of him. But he wasn't allowed the usual web designers fee of a pint and a curry. I still owe him that. I haven't seen the lovely boy for some years now, but I gather he's doing very well and I shall invite him to our re-launch party. Re-launch party? Yep, but more about that later. It's back to the web-land of HTML for me. And when I finish the new website, it'll be time for my fee...!

Relentlessly Irish Business Curry.

I sent my Maverick Theatre Business Plan to my accountant and three friends who are in business. This week I saw the second of the three friends. Like the first - and my accountant - he was worried that my plan was more a theatrical dream than a hard nosed working document for finance. Lacks focus. Bugger. Fed up, I decide to download some spiritual Irish music from i-tunes. However, Belfast Child, Danny Boy, When You Were Sweet Sixteen, My Heart Will Go On (downloaded by mistake - the title on the song was Fields of Athenry, honest) did little to raise my spirits. I look at my rapidly expanding waistline and decide to go for a pint and a curry. That'll show 'em! Yeah, Ma. Top of the World!

Danger - South Bank Blow Out!

If you have an eating disorder - look away now. This post is a tale of hedonism and greed. Brilliant!

Here's a picture to start -

Within a few minutes, it looked like this...



I had my full week in London but I had occasion to go to the South Bank - the brilliant Shakespeare's Globe to be precise - for a few meetings. I remembered the first time I went to the Globe on my own. It wasn't fully built then, but my overriding memory is that it took me ages to save for the Coach fare from Birmingham and I took sandwiches because I couldn't afford to buy any food. It was indicative of the financial constraints of the early Maverick Theatre. Money is still tight, but I now have credit cards, so I decided, rather than book a week in the sun, my holiday would be to the inner Land of Indulgence. Not just meals, but meals that fill you to bursting! Overindulgence! Supersized! So this is sort of a holiday guide for gluttons. I shall mark my restaurants out of ten, but the mark is to how sick I felt... how almost unable to move!

Turkish Pizza place, behind the Globe. 9/10.;

I'd never come across this before, but it was very tasty and the service very efficient. I shouldn't really include it here, because I had a meeting AFTER this, which meant time, rather than decadent gluttony, was the main consideration. The other meal had NO time constraint, which meant I could really go for it!

British Film Institute Restaurant, South Bank.16/10.

This was the real killer, as you can see from the score. The food is wonderful and plentiful! In spite of the exclusivity of the surroundings, there was little neuvo here, loves and the portions were massive!

The pudding thing was sooo lovely, but I've still no idea what it is called.

WARNING - The real danger here are the excellent staff. I'd only intended to have a main course, but they are all young, lovely and impossible to say no to, so everything they suggested, I had.
It was so bad, I not only couldn't drink all the coffee, I even left some BEER! Yep, that stuffed...!

A Birmingham Stomach and Goodbye M. Palin

I'm off to Olde London towne for a full week and after a conversation with me other half, Rebecca, about the joys or otherwise of being a Lady of Leisure, I decide to become a Lad Who Lunches. Bring it on, capital city. Can you beat Birmingham, Balti Capital of the World?

The potential cost of this potential gluttony is being supported by another personal loan I have had to take out. As you may know from a previous blog, I ran out of money at the end of March. This new loan means I now have enough finance to keep going till September 2007. The reality of Maverick moves another step closer. As does the reality of paying back the loans. But this is no time for a faint heart...!

I have also now COMPLETELY got over Michael Palin. I have a new best friend now, a man called Dominic Dromgoole. Apart from the obvious Irish connections, Dommy, as I have already started to call him, has written a book called 'Will and Me - How Shakespeare Took Over My Life'. So far it's a great read. As with Mickey P, I feel an initial twinge of envy at the Oxbridge education and all its opportunities, but, also like Mickey P, Doms lack of bull is refreshing. And reading about another human soul hijacked by the Bard gives me something of the feeling of self-help. I've also been buggered a bit by the bard, metaphorically speaking. Although, looking at my finances trying to get Henry V on, maybe more literally. And Dom likes his Shakespeare without all the pretentious bollix that often goes with it.

I love Dom. I hardly give Mickey P a thought now. Ever. I'm completely over him and his diaries 1970 - 1979. Although I did nearly buy the Monty Python DVD last week. ..

Can You Hear Me, Mother...?

It's been a rock'n' roll week. Not Alf, pop pickers! As well as presenting the breakfast show, I filled in for Dave Hickman on the afternoon show on the DAB and Sky channel 0161 Rock Station, The Arrow. So it was a bit of a Hennegan Rock Sandwich for Arrow listeners. I like radio, and certainly the management of radio stations has improved markedly since I first started. A few years ago now, actually. In fact, thinking about it, Marconi had not long warmed up his first valve! Or at least 1977-ish in a broom cupboard in an ecumenical centre in Thamesmead, South East London. Nick Mobbs, as I was known then, simply because I used to open the doors to the studios and encourage people to come in for a chat. Or a sing. Or anything really. Nick and his Mobbs. And BBC's Steve Wright thinks he was the first jock in the UK to have a gang in a radio studio.

The Arrow, which is part of Chrysalis Radio who also own Galaxy and Heart, has been a great help personally over the last four years or so, and particularly the Programme Director, Alan, who is demanding in a very cool, undemanding way! I'm not moaning about Maverick Theatre, because I chose to do it, but I hadn't realised how hard it was and the toll taken by the grinding poverty until I started to earn a 'normal' living with the Arrow. The relief of only having one job to think about and knowing the bills could be paid at the end of each month was nothing short of glorious. Till I got itchy feet again, of course, which seems to happen every couple of years or so. One of the glories of theatre is that every production, every audience, every night is usually different. Also I feel I failed with Maverick before, because I was not able to make it pay enough to earn a reasonable living for those involved . There are many people who disagree with me and don't see Maverick was a failure in any way, but then they didn't have to struggle with periods on the dole and crushing debts. What made it even worse was that some people would see a packed audience and think I was rolling in it! I eventually gave up trying to point out the economic differences between Cameron M's Palace Theatre and Nick H's Billesley Pub Theatre. I once had to make ten Sovereign and a 25p packet of noodles last a week! Oh the romance of it all. We do laugh now! The struggling artist in his garrote. Balls! I ain't never gonna do that again, brothers and sisters! Not if I can help it anyway. There is NO glamour in poverty. I'm not bothered about being rich, but I've not had more than a weekend away since 1994. A week on holiday should not be a luxury.

And talking of finance - a bit of bad news. My accountant basically thinks my Business Plan is a non-starter commercially. Bugger. I appreciate his directness, though. I have two other people looking at it, but it's a curious dichotomy. To run things properly we need about £47,000. This debt starts to get re-paid after the first year. Them's the figures, but obviously I'm not skilled enough to present them correctly. Mmm. Time to think again.

After I've heard from my accountant, I go for milk from the supermarket. I can tell you it's a very frightening moment when I suddenly realise I've been subconsciously pricing the packets of noodles. Fortunately I no longer smoke, so I ignore the packets of Sovereign...!

I Kick My A*se!

Things move on a theatrical pace. I go see another Business Adviser at Birmingham Central Library. Libraries, by the way are Good Places. Use yours as much as you can, so you don't lose it! So I'm sitting there at a screen in the glass bubble of the Central Library business bit and looking through a database of organizations that give funds. And I'm struck by the fact that I'm running out of dosh and I gave myself 6 months to decide the best way forward for me and my demanding mistress maverick and that time runs out at the end of March. Sort of now-ish! So it's time to just do it, as the TV ad says. Just do it Nick. So now I'm going to focus on what I can achieve by the end of this year. I get back home and fire off e-mails at a savage rate. Maverick will be a full Independent Theatre Council member by the end of the month, a non-profit distributing Limited Company and possibly a charity by the end of the year. And Henry V - Lion of England will have completed a national tour by Christmas. The other irons I have in the fire can take their place in the queue. If they work out, all well and good. If not, then at least Maverick will be making work. Good. Thats better. Just do it Nick, you prat.


With a lilt in my step, I jump in me Renault Reliant and drive down to London for the weekend to see the lovely Anne acting in a short ten minute play, written by a ten year old. There are about twenty such pieces, all written by children and presented by a charity in Camden. The results are original, refreshing and often hilarious. I'm struck particularly by how good all the actors are, and Anne's portrayal of a Robin is spot on. Surreal but believable with perfect movement. Her comic delivery is impeccable, too. An enjoyable afternoon. We all retire to a pub in Camden and get gently twisted!

On Monday I have a photo shoot for a press release I'm working on, dwalink. Well all right, when I say photo shoot, I mean Rebecca takes a snap on me camera phone in the beer garden of the Roebuck Pub on Chiswick High Road. The result of our 'photo call' is top right on this page. Just don't tell anyone!

PS Just shows you what a small world this theatre lark inhabits. As I'm leaving the theatre in Camden, a voice shouts out,
"Nick Hennegan, what are you doing here?"
It's Jez, an actor who trained with an ex-girlfriend in Birmingham last century! Nice bloke. Small world!

The Festival of Multiple Birth Locations

London. Where the festival took place. Tony Blair's office. For now(above) . He wasn't invited though.

And the Navy were ready in case Nick or Michael had too much to drink. (Above. A Big Navy Boat. With Guns.)

After the Festival Of Multiple Birth, Nick considered walking along the River Thames from the Chelsea embankment (above) to Chiswick. But it would have meant too much walking in a straight line, so he jumped on a night bus instead. God Bless Ken Livingstone.

The Festival Of Multiple Birth, Old London Town.

Very showbiz this week, loves. Oh yes. It was The Festival Of Multiple Birth, your see, so I celebrated down The Smoke. Although I also had a chat with a director about a brand new production as well, so it wasn't all high jinks.

The Festival Of Multiple Birth, as I like to call it, is the celebration of the birthday of three actor friends all within one week of each other. All three went to the Webber Douglas Academy with my other 'alf, Rebecca. The Webber D was a fine institution, that alas, after over 100 years, fell foul of commercialism and died an ignoble death just a few months ago. But like the other big, famous London drama schools, RADA, LAMDA, Central et al, most of the students that went there were all of a high quality. There are nearly 1000 potential thesps competing for each place at the Top 5 London schools apparently - and don't get me started about the obscenity of ending vocational grants for drama students. That's for another time, perhaps. But you should know that,

1. I like Drama Students and...

2. Although I'm waving the flag for the West Midlands, I also love London.

So the Festival Of Multiple Birth offers me an annual chance, along with the Boat Race and other great British Events, to combine two of my passions. Or three, if you include my woman, of course, who lives in Chiswick. (She's also a Brummy. But went to London and stayed. Something I'm hoping to address with the New Maverick Theatre.)

So I record a radio show at The Arrow, then jump in me Renault Retard and pootle down the M40. Fortunately there's a parking space on the drive outside our house. When I say our house, I mean the Bedsit With A Bog we inhabit inside the house with about 4 other people. Afford a house on Chiswick High Road. I wish!

We jump on the 27 bus which whisks us almost directly to the Gastro Pub where we are meeting for the 2nd Birth Event. It takes us an hour and I'm reminded again how BIG London is. (London is big. World copyright N. Hennegan!) One of the birth trio, the beautiful, talented and VERY organized Anne, has managed to track down a '2 courses for a tenner' offer in a newspaper. Very few actors can ever afford to turn down an offer.

Because I'd been on the radio, I'd missed the 1st Birth Event on Friday, a Barndance! Young and funky apparently! But the 2nd Birth Event event, although more intimate, with just the 3 Birthday celebrants and Rebecca and me, was very pleasant. We had a nice gastro meal for a tenner and a couple of glasses of wine and then, this being London and a Saturday night, realised it was going to be impossible to get a drink after 11pm. Where are the hordes of drunken rioters the right wing press predicted? In bed, probably. We eventually found a bar that stayed open till (shocked gasp!) midnight! The Monsters! I expect civilization to collapse around Paddington any day now. Caroline, the second of the birth trio teamed up with Anne to find a night club. A formidable duo. Anne, tall, blond and beautiful and Caroline with her cascading dark hair and flashing Celtic eyes, also beautiful but looking about 14. She is blessed with uncanny youth and it's no surprise to know she has done many recordings as Doctor Who's assistant.

Michael, the third of the Birth Trio, got so spannered the night before he decides not to accompany the chicks to a club and save himself for the the Third Birth Event, an all day party on Sunday. Michael is an attractive mix of boy band looks and Northern sensibility with a keen interest in world affairs. He's also the most famous Son of Leyland currently working in the West End and a sharp actor too, although he's been more on the technical side for the last few years.

So he and we head home having completed the Second of the Three Birth Events and I'm struck again about how nice the Birth Three are. It's a bit of a fiction, in fact a lot of a fiction about actors being queeny and demanding. There is perhaps a vulnerability and insecurity with some - god, you try working for the money and conditions most actors have to work for - but nearly all the actors I've come across over the years are warm, considerate friendly people.

Rebecca and I walk to Barnes on Sunday and have a leisurely pint watching the second half of the England v France rugby game. I'm impressed. Not just with the Rugby, but with Rebecca. She doesn't really Do Walking.

On Monday I'm to meet a theatre director, Chris, in a coffee bar in Soho to talk about a play about a famous comedian we want to tour in the Autumn of 2008. I still get a thrill walking and working in London. The first time I met Chris, a few years ago, we sat outside a small unpretentious Italian restaurant in Belgravia. As we were talking, Chris nodded to two people passing. One looked strangely familiar. When I felt it appropriate (I was very nervous talking to a big shot London director. Well you would be, wouldn't you!) I casually asked who they were.

"Oh, that's Edward. You know, Prince Edward. And his detective." and although we continued to talk about a proposal for another new work I really wished me Mom had been here!

Chis drops another bombshell this Monday. I'm telling him about Henry V - Lion of England and the tour this autumn. I ask him for his ideas about casting if the actor I've approached can't do it. Does he know anyone?

"I have the perfect person in mind," he smiles. "The ideal actor for Henry V - Lion of England would be you!"

Me? Blimey. Didn't see that one coming.

Goodbye, Michael Palin. I'll miss you. Perhaps.

You can now comment directly on this blog. I diddled a digit and wangled a widget and it now means you don't have to sign up or anything to leave a comment on this space. Democracy Rocks. As long as I say so!

My plan to conquer the theatrical world suffered a small hiccup this week. On Wednesday the phone rings. It's the printer in Birmingham. "Nick, those Henry V - Lion of England touring brochures we sent urgently to London last Friday for distribution by the tour booker. They've come back to Brum. They're sitting in front of me now. The courier couldn't find the address". Welcome to the World Of Theatrical Production. It got sorted, of course, but aggro always seems to follow productions.

And talking of dramas, I heard the first half of a new play on Wednesday. Stephen Jackson is a writer who I got to know from putting on plays at the Billesley Pub in Brum. Stephen attended the marvelous playwriting M.A. established by David Edgar at Birmingham University and got to know me at the Billesley over a cheeky beer or two. (By the way, one of the top New Writing theatres in London once described Stephen as "one of the top twenty playwrites in the U.K." So obviously, that's why he's never had a play commercially produced. Cursed, you see.) His style didn't suit what I was trying to achieve at the Billesley at that time, but he's a brilliant writer and he once knocked up a new children's Christmas play for us in ten days for a one off performance at the N.E.C. I hope to incorporate that play about a rather bossy but loveable little girl, Margy, into the Maverick canon one day. He's also had success with a children's book, called 'Mirrorworld'. It's very clever and not only did Steve write it, he also illustrated it. So Stephen has this new play. He brings it round to my tip... sorry, house... and reads the first half. A bit overlong, but very enjoyable with some marvelous comic situations. I won't say too much here, in case Stephen kills me for blowing his plot. We then go for a pint and a smoke at the Hare & Hounds. Neither of us actually smokes any more, but the nicotine fog is so severe at the H&H I reckon I inhaled a packet of ten. Roll on the smoking ban in July! In the pub, Stephen stops choking for long enough to make the comment, "So that's the SECOND play you've read in your house then." Second? Oh yes, of course. The first play, coincidentally, was Henry V - Lion of England! I only knew one actor then, so I got him round to read my script out loud. On that instance we pushed the furniture back and started to block some action as well. Robert Stanson, the actors name. A good lad. The first time I met him was at a party and he nearly threw up on me and so for ever more was known as Rob Vomit! He played Henry in Edinburgh to great acclaim. I think he's given up acting now and probably vomiting, to pursue his other great passion, motorbikes. Last I heard he was doing something with Triumph, lucky sod!

I also, rather sadly, said goodbye to my best friend Michael Palin this week. I finished his diaries and left him, poised on the cusp of the 1980's reflecting on whether he'd had his creative peak. I shall miss him and his wife, Helen and his children and all his friends, Python and non-Python. I've even stopped hating him for being so successful now, so familiar have we become over the years 1970 - 79. I suspect a sequel, but I already miss my daily fix of Palin. So I shall do what any other jilted person would do in these circumstances. If M. Palin can no longer satisfy me, I shall rebound. I already have my lustful eye on another Best Friend. He seduced me with a cheeky little book title - Will and Me. I was further titillated by the temptation of owning a signed copy from last summer's Edinburgh Book Festival, the tease. His name is Dominic Dromgool. Coincidentally, he's also recently replaced Mark Rylance as the new Artistic Director of Shakespeare's Globe Theatre in London. And I'm sure he'll welcome me with open... er... pages. Palin? Palin who.

A Brilliant Response, Michael Palin.

I've had a great response this week to the e-mail I sent out announcing this Blog.

Our e-mail list is really small, but not only did I have over half a dozen messages of good will, but also an e-mail from a brilliant Los Angeles based producer, Gerry, about possible work in South Africa. Then the Waterside Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon phoned and said they'd heard about us and would we like to go back there this autumn, bless 'em. Then another e-mail about a potential for eight months work at the fabulous Shakespeare's Globe. And Penny (Tour Booker extraordinaire) phones and says that just a quick conversation with a London venue was enough to interest them in at least a couple of nights of Henry V - Lion of England. How fab is all that!

I'm so elated I spend some time with my new friend Michael Palin. Or at least his diaries, which I am currently reading and using as a cleverly written self-help aid on how to be a self-employed artist working from home. Without, of course, Mikey's success. Or talent. Or family. Or Oxbridge education. Or money.

Then the thought of money brings me rather crashing to earth. I've finished my first attempt at a business plan and circulated it to (read Foisted Upon) a few trustworthy business friends for comment. But I realise that I've used up nearly all my working capital. I'm living on the money earmarked for a new kitchen back when times were fiscally easier. Better do something about that, or the mortgage will suffer and this suddenly popular Peddler of Bill Shaky will be receiving all these marvellous offers in a tent on Billesley Common!

I casually and perhaps rather heartlessly throw Michael Palin to one side, poor love.

Here we go then!

Look everyone! An Actor! I spoke to Michael Shaw last week and asked if he minded if we used his image for a touring brochure - which he didn't. This was Michael when he performed my Henry V - Lion of England at the Waterside in Stratford-upon-Avon. We were there for 6 weeks, I think and I can't believe it was 1995!

Michael may be up for Henry again, but as he said, it's a VERY strenuous part and he's 12 years older now. But he is a great talent is our Mickey and even if his knees won't bear three months on the road as the Merry Monarch (and 12 other characters!) I'm sure we'll do stuff together again sometime.

Me ol' mate John Slater has knocked up a touring brochure and this week I've got it printed and so it looks like it's all systems go with the new Maverick. So gird your loins - Henry V - Lion of England is going to be touring the UK for the first time ever! In the autumn. How exciting! Although I did write it in 1992, so it's not as if it's not overdue. It's had brilliant reviews, fortunately, and I hope you'll like it. Watch this space for venues. I shall once again be knocking on the door of the Arts Council. And I've spent, literally, months trying to put a business plan together. Not my natural environment, loves!

And talking of the business plan, for some reason I seem to work quite well down the pub! It gets me out of the house, you see. If you find yourself in a pub in Kings Heath, Birmingham and there's a nutter with a notebook in the corner with a pint, chances are it's me. Although nothing makes much sense after the third pint, I have to say.

I'm trying to write a novel on the Two Pint Principal, too. I'm hoping it's a really good kids sci-fi adventure story. It's certainly a good excuse to take me notebook down the pub and have a pint and not look too much like a lonely, solitary, sad old man. A word of warning though. Usually, after a few pints of literary sparkle the curry house beckons and I owe many stones of weight and a rapidly increasing waistline to the Sylhet Spice in York Road.

Finally, another brilliant thing about t'interweb. I'm not supposed to talk about it, but allowing ads on this page earned Maverick 78 US cents on Monday. Rock On! And another brilliant feature is that you can comment on these posts. I didn't realize until I saw that Robb, our original musician and good guy, left a comment about the early days. I think you can see it too if you click the correct bit somewhere down below. And that's about as technical as I get especially as I've got to finish my 2008 turnover projections now for the Business Plan. Where's me coat? 3 pints, then I think it will be a Chicken Tikka tonight...

Sunday, 25 February 2007

Two amazing things happened yesterday. For the first time since about 1994, I didn’t switch the computer on all day! Not even to check e-mails. Although there are lots of benefits to working from home, leaving work is very difficult. Especially as I’m trying to get Maverick going again and rapidly running out of dosh! The temptation is always to go back to the computer and do a bit more. But today I didn’t. Instead I went with John, my spiritual father in law, and saw Moseley rugby club get beaten by Leeds Tykes. Now, I’m not much of a rugger bugger, but Moseley are now on the common by my old council estate and I love the idea of a traditional ‘old wealthy’ game being played in a council estate.

Then, another unique experience. I went and saw Ken Dodd at Dudley. A mate of mine, Brian, kindly booked a bunch of tickets so I thought I’d give it a go. A living legend is Doddy and some of his surrealism feels very contemporary for an old chap. But nobody warned us – although I’d heard the rumours – about the ‘longevity’ not just of his reputation, but of the show itself. Curtain up was 7.30pm. The interval finally came, much to the relief of a hot, thirsty and numb bummed audience nearly three hours later at 10.20pm!

As we fled to the door for some fresh air the doorman remarked,

“Keep your tickets if you want to come back. Although a lot of people didn’t last night.’

I wasn’t altogether surprised. The chairs were not that comfortable and I’d actually thought about not returning myself.

“What time did he finish last night?” I enquired.

The doorman shuffled a bit and looked vaguely embarrassed.

“Well…about… well… it was about one o’clock”

1AM! I was pleased to have seen the living legend and he truly is a great man and a fine comic, but it was time for the pub.

We alighted at the nearest hostelry which was ancient and attractive on the outside, but young, loud and louche on the inside.

As we dodged the occasional flying snooker cue and struggled to be heard above the bass beats and more frequent foul mouthed, mainly female obscenities, Steve, a writer mate of mine, summed up the whole Ken Dodd Laughter Show -or at least the first half - which included a musical interlude by a portly attractive young musician backed by Kens band, a keyboardist and rather bored drummer who bore an uncanny resemblance to John Prescott.

“It was like waking up at Butlins”, said Steve, “in 1955.”

Me Other Job.

I've had a few queries about my radio work. So here is my occasional office at The Arrow, the Rock Music Station owned by Chrysalis Radio, along with Heart, Galaxy and LBC. The Arrow is on DAB Digital Radio in 6 regions of the UK, from Southern Scotland to London and the South. It's also nationally available through your telly on Sky, NTL (Virgin?). Check out www.thearrow.co.uk. I'm currently on-air from 8am - 10 am Monday to Friday and 6 - 9pm Sunday. I've been presenting radio on and off since I was about 19. Keeps me off the streets, like! And I've the perfect face for radio...

Weekly going ons!

I’ve joined an exclusive club this week. ‘Which Club’, I hear you ask. ‘Groucho’s? Soho House? Blacks?’

Better than all the above. Birmingham Snooker Club. Being in the media means membership cost me £2.50. For a whole year. 2 pints and a bag of crisps for a fiver. And, of course, you can play snooker or pool if you want to. Which I won’t. And why is this club better than all the above? Simple. 1 – it’s in Birmingham, which is where I am and – 2- THE BAR NEVER CLOSES. No, really. It’s open 24/7. It’s not that I’m a boozer, but most people in theatre don’t finish work till 10.30pm and in spite of the so called 24 hour drinking, most pubs still shut at 11pm. Imagine you leave the office or your shop or factory at 5.30pm and say to a mate “fancy a pint?” and then all the pubs shut at 6pm. Not very convenient.

Also this week, me ol’ mate John Slater knocked up a touring brochure for me play Henry V – Lion of England which looks like will now tour the UK in the Autumn. And I found a brilliant printer in Erdington who’s going to print em up!

Still haven’t finished the business plan for the Brave New Maverick. It’s like swimming through treacle! Better be off now. I’ve a MySpace site to check out! So web.2, loves!

P.S. The club is not really called the Birmingham snooker club. I thought I should protect its identity!

Starting A Theatre Company - PART ONE

Don't do it!

PART 2. If you must do it, then pop back here every now and then and find out how I'm getting on, and if we make it!

When we first started the Maverick Theatre Company in 1994, after some amateur experiments, I wrote a short diary entry in our very first programme. It wasn't me being heroic, but a desire to share with our potential audience what was going on and how we came to be presenting theatre in a pub and why it had taken weeks of working 18 hour days. It also allowed me to get some perspective on the event. We presented Willy Russell's Educating Rita, partly because it's a very good play (commissioned by the Royal Shakespeare Company, don't y' know!) and partly because the process of producing, directing and creating a new theatre venue was an Education for me. It was Educating Nick. The feedback from that little diary entry was so good, I made a mental note to do it again some time. Maverick Theatre was, and still is, all about dispelling some of the popular myths about theatre. Breaking down some of the traditional barriers. In our case saying “forget the telly for a night. Come down the pub for a pint and a pie and watch a play.”

In 1997 I wrote a play called A Ghost Of A Chance (dangerous title if the critics hadn’t liked it which, fortunately, they generally did!) It starred 13 year old Justyn Luke Towler and Paul Henry, a very smart actor who will forever be known for his role as ‘Benny’ in Crossroads. Although I’d had the very great pleasure of working with Sir Derek Jacobi on one occasion – yes, really, THE Sir Del. And what a star he was – there was great interest in a named actor like Paul supporting us little theatre gits. So I kept a production diary. It meandered all over the place and although occasionally a fag, was quite good fun. And because I did it daily as I went, I had no idea how it would end up. We made a number of copies and bound them and charged a fiver, I think, to cover the costs and they sold out. Again it was a desire to tell our audience what was going on. To encourage a greater sense of ownership, I guess. I couldn’t have a pint with everyone and let them know how we were doing, so the production diary filled this gap. And again the feedback from the book was very positive.

So now I’m starting again – another journey of discovery. But this time the technology has moved on. I can now BLOG! No need to charge for a book. The whole drama of trying to find money, sponsors, actors, and premises will be here for cyber-ever. I’ve got some big and unique ideas, some of which have never been done before. This time Maverick will be touring. Or at least that’s the plan. So join the soap opera that is Maverick! I’m doing some part-time work on Rock Station The Arrow, but unless I can find some business funding, we’re sunk before we start. Watch this space!

PART THREE.

Get yourself a home made logo. See above. Thanks Robb and John Slater.

Coming Soon. That Michael Palin thing.

In the Beginning...

... there was ME. This is my pic. Looking old and, yes, with a glass of red wine. And some 30 years after I came along, there was an idea for a theatre company. T'was 1992 and I'd been doing all sorts. Me and a mate Rob Vomit - the only actor I knew - did a one man version of Henry V wot I wrote. Called Henry V - Lion of England, we performed at the mac in Brum for 1 night. Another mate, Robb Williams, wrote an atmospheric soundtrack. Cost me fifty quid to hire the venue and I asked me family and mates along. Also present were Jasper Carrott's then managers and they took us to the Edinburgh Fringe which inspired me to start a company in Birmingham that would be true to the spirit of the fringe and be truly accessible. So we started Maverick at the Billesley Pub in South Birmingham on the edge of a council estate where, coincidentally, I was born. It was hard, artistically and financially and our last production was in 2003. Now, in 2007, we're kicking off again. Why? Mmm. Good question. NEXT TIME. Why I hate Michael Palin.