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!
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