Mary Wakefield talks to Tom Hollander

Glutton for punishment

Mary Wakefield

Wednesday, 31st October 2007

The 24 hour play people

Stage right. Tom Hollander is sitting in an armchair in front of a gas fire in Berlin, reading the script of his latest flick — a Tom Cruise vehicle about von Stauffenberg’s attempt to assassinate Hitler, with a cast of starry Brits: Kenneth Branagh, Bill Nighy, Eddie Izzard. How do we know it’s Berlin? We just do.

As Tom takes a sip of tea, the clock hands hit 7.30 and his mobile rings.

Both sides of the stage are now lit.

M: Hello, it’s Mary from The Spectator.

Tom (leaning back and stretching): Mary! Hello, hello, hello.

M: Are you all right to speak now?

T: Yes, absolutely. I’ve finished filming, I’ve made a cup of tea, I’ve turned the fire on. (Sips tea)

M: Lovely! So we’re going to talk about the 24-hour plays at the Old Vic, but I’m afraid I don’t know anything about them. What are they?

T (in a sarcastic drawl): Well...there’s a clue’s in the name. You write, rehearse and perform a play in 24 hours.

M (recovering ground): Yes, absolutely, but I mean how does it work? Talk me through what will happen on 11 November.

T: Well, everybody arrives at the Old Vic at 7.30 on the Saturday night —

on 10 November. There are eight or so writers and 30 actors, and Kevin Spacey presiding. And all the actors have to bring a prop.

M: What sort of thing? What did you bring last year?

T: I brought a...

M (struck by inspiration): Pineapple! I bet it was a pineapple!

T: No. It was a round squash called a Little Gem. My mother grows them. You could take anything. Somebody brought a big multicoloured coat, somebody else brought a big African instrument.

M: What are the props for?

T: It’s a way for the writers to get inspired and to have ideas about your character. All the actors sit around in a circle and introduce themselves and their props whilst the writers take notes. I said, ‘I’m Tom and this is a gourd my mother grew.’ It’s like Alcoholics Anonymous for jumble-sale addicts. But

I’ll know better than to bring a gourd this year.

M: Because the writers cast you as a mummy-loving vegetable?

T: Exactly! Yes. I was cast as a mother-dominated homosexual. (Sighs) Again. Tom Hollander’s landline rings, off-stage. Would you excuse me a second?