The day of reckoning; this is where we see whether Balloon will float, deflate, pop or remain in the bag all limp. But then again that’s what happens when you do something different. Had I have written a normal show, my greatest fear would have been that the audience would find it boring, samey, predictable, where-as with something which is very different, at least there’s a chance of breaking through. So, we shall see. It’s pretty much out of my hands now, and in the mouths of the audience.

I had a weird feeling yesterday, as I approached my venue, that I hadn’t progressed as a writer/performer, but I’d gone backwards. Maybe it’s because I’m back at the same venue I was at two years ago with a similarly weird off-beat show? It’s slightly disconcerting, especially as over the last few months my writing has come on leaps and bounds, therefore I’ve made a decision…

…I’m not taking a show to the Edinburgh or Brighton Fringe next year.

Basically, each year I get September off, I work on new ideas from October to December, script them from January to April, record and edit across April, rewrite and rehearse in May then off to Brighton Festival, then rewrite, re-edit and re-rehearse across the Summer, right up until August which is the Edinburgh Fringe… then it all starts again. And what do I get to show for it? Two shows, seen by maybe 300 people, maybe one review (if I’m lucky) and a very empty bank account. Where-as, I can easily write a script a month (as I’ve already proven), so next year I plan to just focus on being a writer. That’s it. It’s time to take myself up a gear or two, and then when I’m ready, come back with a show I’m 100% proud of, rather than one I’ve cobbled together against a series of stupid deadlines. From now on, all my goals will be about what I can achieve. My deadline, my projects, my decisions.

Onwards and upwards… but first I’ve got a show to do.

More later. Mxxx

Now, although Balloon is ready to unleash on the world, one small tiny weeny little element isn’t… me. Although I know my lines and my timings, I still haven’t found my mode. There’s an infinite number of ways I can play this character and as of yet I haven’t uncovered the essence of the character. Odd, isn’t it? Given that I wrote him, but he was always designed to be nothing more than a reaction to Balloon, therefore he says and does little, he is an obstacle and now I have to give him life and (unlike Balloon) a body.

So, I’m going to gave a lot of fun with the Brighton run, yes the audiences will experience the show for the first time, but then again so will I. Each show I plan to perform with a different style, tone and delivery, they will be: happy man-child, aloof bloke, fuelled by Redbull, breaking point, a mix of all, and even a little homage to Waiting For Godot. And I’ll only decide by drawing from a hat just before I go on. Hell I might even let the audience decide.

Risky? Yes. But isn’t this what writing and performing is all about? Why conform to the bullshit laid down by others. The fact is that (to quote Mr Goldman) “nobody knows anything” and when in your entire life do you get carte blanche to do whatever you want to do, for a whole hour, and people will actually listen to you? Never. By putting on a show this is your one opportunity to be as wonderful, crazy, bold, foul and as inventive as you like. You can scream at the top of your lungs and dance about the stage with your wang (or flaps) out like a loony, or you can say nothing for the whole hour. You can tell a story verbatim or improvise every single breath. It so infuriates me when I see performers churning out the same old tired material again and again and again, giving the excuse that “these is my A material”. Fine, if it’s your best then save it for the competitions, but every other day, try something different, stop being such a coward because by repeating the same old turd every day, at the end of the year, you’ll be bored and so will the audience. And you both deserve better.

By the end of August, if not sooner, both my shows (Balloon and Shopping For Bacon) will be dead. Each year I’ve made a commitment to write two new shows, with the aim of learning something new about myself. If this was my fourth year of performing Moz & the Meal, yes my timing and delivery would be flawless, but I’d also be wanting to put a bullet in my head and my writing would suffer. In the last six months I’ve written for four hours every day and eight hours daily over weekends with the aim of writing a new script (sitcom, play or six-part web series) every month. It’s been painful, trying and I’ve missed a lot of fun times with my friends, but as a writer I’m bigger, stronger and more confident. It’s almost like the creative part of my brain and my central logic have realised they’re neighbours and that if they want to borrow each other’s strimmer they can. Obviously that won’t be obvious with Balloon, I wrote this show before they physically met, but for me it marks a turning point, a new me. There’s one scene in Balloon which I love, I think this is when creativity first popped his head over the fence. That scene (I won’t tell you which) I wrote in one hour flat and have barely changed a word since draft one. It poured out of me, and ever since then, when I need to write I simply open the backdoors and let the neighbours talk.

Right, my coffee’s finished and my train to Brighton is almost in, so we’ll chat later okay? But until then, remember this “success isn’t about winning it’s about trying, where-as losing isn’t about failure, it’s about not trying at all”.

More later.
Mxxx

Inside my tiny befuddled brain has sat for many years two scripts which (as hard as I tried) I could never write but not for want of trying. Every year I’d try again, then half-way through I’d hit the usual creative brick-wall, head-first and walk away, dizzy with a bloodied nose.

That said, I’ve just finished a new sitcom which I wrote solely for kicks, to entertain myself and sharpen my writer’s wit, an exercise… and thus with the Gods of comedy (half ignoring me but) smiling down upon me, ‘Clutter’ was born. Mother and Father to both scripts I could never write. It’s almost as if they had sex inside my head whilst I was asleep. Dirty bastards.

One huge lesson I learned from this project was “never give up”. Eight pages in, the script was going nowhere and I was about to click ‘save & close’ then file it away in the drawer of creative rejects, but having spent three hours writing I thought “sod it, I don’t plan to do anything with the script so let’s just write some more and see where it goes”. So there I sat, writing jokes, giggling, chuckling, adding set-ups, building characters, never once caring whether it was right or wrong for the story or characters or blah blah blah etc, I was just having fun. And thus, BING, out popped possibly the boldest, unashamedly funny, neatly plotted script I’ve ever written. And all I did was “switch my editor off”. That’s it.

Hmm, now, anyone got £250k so I can shoot a pilot?

More soon.
Mxxx

…is actually a spiral which in a dizzying ride of twists and turns takes you whizzing passed through a series of sights you’ve seen before but are forced to revisit with ever shaper eyes. I know this because every time I sit down to write an outline for my next writing project I get caught in a whirlwind of excitement and adventure, only to to forced to see the glaring error of my ways again and again and again.

The fifth draft of this outline (to tomorrow’s new script) is almost finished; each time I overwrite it, each time it’s embellished with new ideas and character flaws and twists, all of which would be great on their own, but again are merged into a comedy soup with too many flavours and not enough taste.

The new draft took me three minutes to write. Three minutes. And what’s its secret? Simplicity. And (given the time I’ve dedicated to it) it’s annoying perfect. Simplicity, it’s so obvious. And you know, I didn’t learn that in a book, there isn’t a formula to it, or a chart, or a course you could go on to identify the inner workings on “keeping it simple”, this I learned from watching Steptoe & Son and Porridge. Two of the finest comedies ever, written by the masters of comedy, Galton & Simpson and Clement & LeFrenais who’s starting point was always “conflict is comedy” and visa-versa; “two different people forced together, turn up the heat… and watch them try to exist or escape”. Simple. Let the characters argue, and fight, and laugh, and cry, and ultimately resolve (or resign) their issues as if they too are on the Learning Spiral, stuck, forced again and again to see the error of their ways through different eyes. Simplicity. Conflict. Comedy. Sigh! I just pray I remember that the next time my fingers start fiddling the keys.

Roll on tomorrow. May the Gods of creativity bless me with one thought… not fifty.

More soon.
Mxxx

So there I sit, at my laptop, to work on ‘Big Fat Losers’ (my next play). I’ve got a coffee on the go, it’s not even dawn, my eyes are sleepy and my brain can barely function a simple command. Strangely I find I write better dopey than alert - “write with you editor off” as Logan Murray would say.

Anyway, ‘Big Fat Losers’ is slowly pouring out, the characters are taking shape and their lives unfolding on the page, when… (*record scratch sound effect) I finally resolve the character flaw which has plagued me on the other play I was working on. It’s one of those ‘slap your head’ moments where you think “it’s so obvious”, and so (with a new cup of coffee) I write a brand new opening scene with different tone, different style and aims. It’s the writing equivilant of being given a guitar and deciding to tune it rather than smash it. And thus, in a moment of frustration, I finally finished the first draft of the stage version of ‘Shopping For Bacon’.

God, I love those moments. It’s like finding a piece of jigsaw down the side of the sofa to a puzzle from childhood. A sense of relief sweeps by knowing I no longer need to sit in a quiet room, screaming… instead I whistle.

Another few drafts and then I’m home free… after I’ve finished the third (and finally) play.

More soon.
Mxxx

With the preparation done, I started work this morning on the second comedy I’ll be taking to the Edinburgh fringe festival this year - “Big Fat Losers”, written by but not starring me. No, for once, I’ll be taking a backseat and producing writing and directing the other two plays, as (bizarre as this may seem) I’m the only person who’s “been” to my shows, “heard” them but never “seen” my shows. So creatively this is another step up.

BFL also marks a gear-change for me as a writer. I always wrote according to my strengths but also my weaknesses, therefore some scenes (characters and plots, let’s be honest) were never as good as they could have been because I knew (or was terrified by) my limitations as an inexperienced performer. But, this time, not performing myself, I can really let the characters bloom, their emotional journey can travel from brain to page to stage without the intervention of my own creative worst enemy. Me.

I really feel liberated; the subject matter is outside my usual comfort zone but bizarrely it’s “very me”, I see myself in all four characters and as much as they are all “losers” (insert your own punchline here) I want them all to succeed.

Can’t wait for this year’s festival. This won’t be me just “putting on a show”, this is a new me, marketing myself (professionally) as a writer, producer and director. This is Michael J Buchanan-Dunne act two; I’ve laid down the character’s backstory (wannabe writer dreams of success), he’s confronted his villains, he’s aware of the climb ahead and the success and failure which awaits, but now there’s no turning back.

This will not be a story which ends on page 15. This is not a hastily scribbled outline which remains in a drawer. This is not a fairy tale. This… is the beginning of something epic. Get your popcorn ready.

More soon. Mxxx

It’s been fun, obviously not for my liver, my lungs, my stomach, my sanity and my arse, but it’s certainly been a hoot. I’m just glad it’s only a month, any longer and I’d be forty stone, deaf, pale and blind.

Shmozle’s been a good experiment, it’s been a successfully modest failure. Some days we rocked, some days we rolled, some days we flopped and floundered, but never without pride. Who’d have thought I’d be bringing my third show to Edders, let alone planning a forth.

So what have I learned?
* to believe in myself, my writing, my sense of humour. I might not appeal to the masses, but I’ll appeal to niches.
* to allow the audience to enjoy the show not just appreciate it.
* that although I might write from the heart, that I’m yet to give the audience a piece of me (roll on next year).
* that I have fans, actual fans, people who like what I do. Still my gast is flabbered about that.
* that I am as much a brand as my concepts.
* that although I may bitch and grumble about my shows, that I am proud of them, myself and my writing.
* it’s bloody hard (but enjoyable) work.

Am currently sitting on the train, heading home, a dead shMOZle in my bag but a new notebook of dreams, concepts, characters and sketches in my hand, and although I feel sadness that a year’s hard work (very hard work) is now over, that a new Moz chapter is just beginning.

And with that I salute you all, or as the Modern Man would say “cock in, pants up and fuck off”.

Thank you to everyone who came to my shows; those who loved it, those who hated it, those confused by it and those who applauded it. You’ve each made me that little bit stronger, bolder and more daring, and without your honest feedback this wouldn’t be possible.

See you all in Aug 2012.

Love & kisses.
Mxxx (& shMOZle RIP)

Enjoyable gig today; roughly 25 (vetted) people in, the original shMOZle edit, and an appreciative audience who wanted to see something different, unique and that’s what they got. And although my energy wasn’t at the max I kept trying to up my game throughout to really pantomime my performance.

No feedback forms today, which ironically was good as audiences were happy to feedback at the door, with comments such as “best show I’ve ever seen”, “really amazing”, “so glad I came” (that was from a lovely lady - ooh err) and “excellent show, well done”. Had some real gigglers in the audience today, quiet ones, but by vetting them I seem to have found a core audience, or my niche.

One guy rightly pointed out that my flyer doesn’t sell the show properly, and I agree. Next year I won’t make that mistake, my new “sales patter” and feedback (email address) will be on the flyer too. Monetary-wise (not that that’s important) I’m back to making the same high levels as last year so the hard work is paying off. As is the learning curve.

More later.
Mxxx

Hmm. A good full receptive (vetted) audience today, no-one left, they liked the filth and didn’t like ShMOZle, so therefore “ShMOZle you’re sacked”, as of this Saturday. P40 in the post. Clear out your desk and as your final line in the show goes “…and fuck off”.

Although the show was faster today, it lacked logic in certain places, maybe it was me but I could feel scenes not working because there wasn’t enough story so I think I’ll stick with the original. As I was nervous about remembering the new scenes and lines, I didn’t perform to the max, it was a very auto-pilot performance.

Good laughter and applause throughout, a good monetary haul (my best yet) and one feedback form which read… “very unique concept, really impressed with how much preparation went into it, really funny. xx”. Yes, two kisses, and girl’s handwriting. I’m in there.

On top of that I had lots of comments like “brilliant”, “really impressive”, “very funny” at the door, which was nice to hear, and more repeat business. A very lovely lady and her father came to see my show, having previously seen Bored Stiff and Moz And The Meal. Amazing. And they liked it. Great. That fills me with more happiness than doing a great gig, getting applause or laughs, because when you’re a performer, especially at the Free Festival it’s easy to be a “fleeting monkey”, “something to pass the time” or just “that funny guy”, but when people remember me and my shows after a year or two it really melts my heart and puts back the trust that a bad show can drain. So although today wasn’t my best show, it was, because of them. A lady even took my picture at the end. :-)

Five more shows to go. I gotta give them some welly as it’ll be the last time I’ll (and any audiences) will ever see ShMOZle and most of these sketches… ever again. Might adopt a different tone tomorrow.

Off to perform at Comedy Slappers now, a bit of “Modern Man” (my pissed character) in a pub full of piss-heads. Yes! My true comedy home!

More later Moz fans (and super-fans)
Mxxx

Phew! Done! Relax! Actually it’s a nice room, self-contained, with good sight-lines, good sound and a nice audience, even if the 1000 watt spotlight has turned me into the chestnut colour of David Dickinson.

The show went well; they got the concept and really got into the first two sketches. Bizarrely the Modern Man (which always goes well was quite muted), they liked the “help-line” and all the inside jokes, but I think they agree with me that the show is too long. And that there’s not enough air for laughter.

My nerves slightly got the better of me, slightly shaky hands which can really affect how they perceive you (the more confident you are the more they’ll feel they can relax) but now I’ve got show one out of the way I can start to settle into it. Enjoy myself.

Feeling exhausted but feeling bigger and bolder and proud of what I’ve achieved. Now time for a fry-up and some Deal Or No Deal.

More later.
Mxxx

Finally packed by midnight in a bag big enough to hide a dead hooker… erm… apparently. Far too many props, tables, boards and costumes. What happened to my initial mantra of “no props, just sounds”? I seem to have opted for “a prop per sound plus a costume change and sets”.

First Edinburgh outing of shMOZle is in 27hrs and I’m pretty relaxed about it. With this being my third Edinburgh show (but sixth & seventh fringe show) my expectations are realistically low. I was sagely informed “trying to make your mark as s comedian at Edders is like trying to establish yourself as a serial killer in a war-zone”. Probably more bloody too?

shMOZle has been another marker on my list of achievements. It’s a wonderfully rich show (I think, compared to the others), albeit flawed as the technical aspects of the show have bulldozed aside the comedy. But my faith in myself and my desire to “give the audience something different” remains steadfast, and shMOZle is another step forward towards something new, exciting and wonderful. Hell I’m still new to this, still learning and finding my feet, and all untrained, which is half of the excitement.

Next year’s show (yes the kid’s show idea is shelved, I’m crazy not a sadist) is going to be very physical. I really want to allow my creative side to explode as I think shMOZle is the frustrated writer within me bursting out, therefore there’s some skilfully written scenes within, which on paper (I feel) are a joy to read, but on stage are a little flat. Possibly because I’m not a born performer but I can be, I’ve just got to let the clown inside out.

Heading north now, on the train, full of coffee, listening to the Floyd, with an oversized “dead hooker” bag with a busted handle. It’s nigh on 30 degrees, I haven’t seen my venue, seen if my posters are there, sound-checked nor do I know if anyone will turn up to see the third part of the Moz trilogy. But you know what? Who cares. I’m doing this for me, this is my ride, and if anyone wants to ride shotgun, you’re more than welcome… just don’t expect a pee-break.

More later McShMOZle fans.
Mxxx

Note: When I call this the “Moz trilogy” this show has nothing to do with Moz And The Meal or Bored Stiff, it’s just that I wrote it… and the lead character is called Moz. Dygeddit? I need to make that clear as my sister told my audience at a Brighton run of Bored Stiff (the “hilarious” show about suicide) that the Moz in that show was the same character as in Moz And The Meal… yes, the cannibal who chainsawed his girlfriend to death. Confused the f**k out of the audience. :-)

Well, we’re pre-Edinburgh Festival, the final run-thru’s for shMOZle are under way, bags are being packed… and I’ve already started planning/writing next year’s shows. I can’t help it. I like being busy. I love scrawling ideas in my many notebooks. I love experimenting. That’s what I think thrills me the most, not getting laughs, anyone can make people laugh. Make a fart sound, pull a face, fall over, swear, job done, people laugh, it’s what we do. No I’m talking about trying something new, taking the audience on a journey and giving them something different. And ultimately satisfying myself.

I’ve learned a lot from shMOZle. Back in Edinburgh 2010, when I started planning, writing and blogging (check if you don’t believe me) about this show, my initial concept was to see if I could make a one-man sketch show using predominantly sound… and what weird ideas I could pull off within it. Well that’s exactly what I’ve done. Even my most insane ideas have taken shape; this show is very ironic, knowing, clever and bold. That’s not to say it all works perfectly, far from it. The problem with interacting with your own pre-recorded voiceover is that in order for it to look natural, the timing between each line must flow, which means in a scattergun scene (with quick-fire dialogue) there’s no space for the audience to laugh otherwise they mess the next line. Should I add space for laughter, then if no laughter comes, then the gap looks like a mistake and the naturalism is lost. Therefore I’m left with a show where the audience are afraid the laugh; they enjoy it, it’s an oddity and an experience (I’ve been informed) but I can’t gauge their true enjoyment till the very end. Another lesson learned.

For next year, I’m thinking about adapting the shMOZle format. Yes it’s another sketch show, yes it’ll involve voiceover and sfx, yes I’ll play a double-act, but this will be different. In shMOZle the characters which really work are The Modern Man and The Cultured Man, interestingly the one’s where I talk the least yet physically perform the most. So… my new show will maximise on this; of the double-act Moz will have lost his voice and Shmozle has misplaced his body just before the show. a real opportunity fore to explore physical comedy, try out new ideas and give the audience some breathing space to enjoy themselves. “Sounds shit” I hear you cry, well just wait. This show will require a lot of careful planning, rehearsal and writing but it’s gonna be great, and even if it isn’t, it’s another big bold step into the comedy unknown that I’ve taken.

Sure beats mother-in-law jokes, paedo Priests, obvious observations, slagging of Michael McIntyre, Tampax & period jokes and ending each line with the word “f**k” because you couldn’t think up a punchline eh?

More soon. Mxxx

Normally to see how well I know my routine I’ll sometimes rehearse it drunk, the theory being that if I can remember not only the dialogue but also the timings and cues to the show when I’m pie-eyed then surely that means the routine is firmly ingrained in my brain. It might sound odd but it works. Today’s performance will be different though, I’m suffering from a post stag-do hangover complete with shakes, sweats, lethargy, brain fug, trots, parps, a thumping headache, light sensitivity and ringing in the ears. All of which are the sworn enemy of any performer.

Part of me wants to pop in my earphones and do a quick rehearsal… the other part is too afraid. Worried that I’ll badly screw it up and seriously dent my confidence prior to tonights show. But also desperate to prove to myself that it’ll be okay.

Thus I’m on a mission to rejuvenate myself with water, aspirin, vitamin c, Alka-Seltzer, coffee, chocolate and a good poo. Not all at the same time. On stage in nine hours. Eek.

More later. Mxxx

Yippee! The terrifying comedy roller-coaster which is shMOZle is back on the rails and open for business after last night’s little hiccup. Just roared through another rehearsal; there were screams, laughs, tears and a little bit of wee even peeped out. That’s the mark of a shMOZle performance.

But then isn’t that what performance and writing is all about; pushing yourself, learning and improving? You can’t have the light without the dark. Yes you need confidence to perform but if you’re so full of confidence that you can’t see your own failings, then that is a major failing. With every mistake I’ve made I’ve learned a little bit more, pushed myself that little bit harder and made the show a whole heap better.

Another rehearsal today, four tomorrow, a quickie on Saturday, rest on Sunday ready for the London unveiling. Which I’m not at all worried about as I’d previewed shMOZle six times in Brighton so have a pretty good measure of the show. But then… this is me, saying that, before the show. After? I might have changed my mind.

With love and worry-sweat. Moz.xxx