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Tuesday 2 December 2008

Mary Wakefield talks to Tom Hollander

Glutton for punishment

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?

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