Last week, in Cannes

Ok, where were we? Right, Wednesday. 

Wednesday was a bit of a bust, so shall we just skip it altogether? No, well no judging my brutal honesty then.

I was finally able to meet up with my friend Maria who had come to Cannes a day or two after me. Maria is a beautiful actress from Russia who I met in my very first acting class in LA. She's a dear friend and it was good to see a familiar face in a strange land. Maria had a manager and PR woman with her in addition to her family. She had been going from meeting to interview to party since arriving, it was amazing I got anytime with her at all. After I left Maria at her hotel I got a call from her 5 minutes later saying Jim Jarmusch(one of my hero directors) was in the lounge. I literally sprinted back to the hotel. Maria waited for me at the gate and lead me to the lobby. What I did next will haunt me until I meet Mr. Jarmusch again. I froze. Jarmusch was being interviewed in the hotel lounge and I couldn't interrupt. I had though Maria would go with me but she couldn't.

I went to the bathroom while I debated what to do and as Maria and I walked back to the lobby Jarmusch himself came around the corner looking for the bathroom. He looked at me, actually looked at me. I could've said something. Could've simply said " Mr. Jarmusch I'm great admirer of your work."

He probably would've said thank you and continued to the bathroom, and I could've slept easy for the rest of my adult life. But I didn't and I can't. Maria had to return to her room to change and I decided to leave. When I got to the front gate I couldn't get it open and turned back to go ask the desk clerk to let me out. Jim Jarmusch, his interviewers and a photographer were standing 30 feet away, taking photos for whatever magazine was interviewing him.

I had to walk by him yet again, to the lobby where I asked the clerk how to get out. 

"Zhe gate is open right znow if zyou hurreee"

She said. I turned to see Jim Jarmusch and his party opening the hotel gate to leave. I had to sprint, yet again, down the path to catch the gate before it closed. I then found myself standing behind Jim Jarmusch while he was still being interviewed. I couldn't interrupt him. I'd had my chance to say something and I'd chickened out. Now the universe seemed to be rubbing my cowardice in my face, as Jarmusch and his party strolled down the sidewalk in the direction I needed to go. I trailed down the sidewalk several paces behind them so as not to seem creepy( because trailing him for three blocks is only creepy if you're too close). Finally, finally, Jarmusch's company left him and I raced to the nearest crosswalk in order to reach him.

By the time French traffic had allowed me to cross however, he had entered a heavily guarded hotel. I could've talked my way in probably, but then he would have seen me in two different hotel lobbies in 10 minutes and that would've reeked of stalker. I glumly walked back towards the international village.

I ended up at the American Pavillion again, and after some schmoozing with PR people I sat with my director Brett and a lovely producer from London named Nellie, drinking wine and discussing industry "strategy". I related the story of Jim Jarmsuch and in an effort to cheer me up, Brett and Nellie did some research and found a vip party they thought I could sneak into. I was feeling very low but I went back to the Airbnb and got on my red carpet togs. I found the party on the beach and plucked up my courage to talk my way in. They party was over, the guard informed me. I watched all the glitzy guests filing out and discussing after party plans. I felt like burying myself in the sand and staying there for a few hundred years. Then Kevin, the American filmmaker, texted and asked if I wanted to go to club Gotha nearby. I eagerly agreed, wanting my fancy dress and ten pounds of makeup not to go to waste. Chris Brown was performing at Gotha that night, of course, and I waited in line with about 200 other French teenagers for an hour before Kevin and David turned up and said we could get in if we bribed the guard. We did so. I entered the club to discover that France doesn't have building capacity laws, at least not ones they obey. My friends had somehow gotten into the vip section and I dove into the crowd to try and make it to them. Once in the crowed I started to question my sanity and life expectancy. It was every man for himself. I couldn't breath, I couldn't move, and after nearly punching a French teenager who kept pushing against me I fought my way back out and into the open air. I had a good cry and ordered an uber home.

And that was Wednesday.

Yours truly,

Drama Queen 

Sorry, I've Been Busy

Ok, I'm here in one piece. Made it through an 11 hour flight to Stockholm and a 3 hour flight to Nice then from the Nice airport to my hotel. A journey I had serious doubts of my making without many unwanted detours. 

I was lucky enough to sit next to an American filmmaker, Kevin, and his producer, David, on the flight over. They had a short film in the emerging filmmakers showcase at the American pavilion. We all got to know each other very well over the next 15 hours.

The first two days of my trip I stayed at a small hotel in Nice, although old town Nice is lovely, Nice is a 40 minute drive from Cannes. I took an airport shuttle into Cannes the first day for a panel on producing at the Jordan pavilion. Although I was virtually cooking outside for the entire thing it was an interesting conversation to listen to and I was able to meet and talk with some producers who have been in the business for a long time. I met and English filmmaker and her music producer boyfriend at the that panel and we ended up going to a party at the American pavilion that night. When it was clear I'd missed the last shuttle back to nice, they kindly let me crash at their flat for the night. 

The next day I checked out of my hotel and hauled my things back to Cannes to meet up with my director Brett, in order to crash on his couch for the next few days. While sitting at s cheering enjoying wine and chocolate I met s lovely South African filmmaker and her Romanian editor and we chatted for long time. Brett showed up and we hauled my overstuffed suitcase into a delightfully rickety French elevator and into his Airbnb. 

I ventured out alone that night in a cocktail dress and heel hoping to find a party I could talk my way into. Party invitations are closely guarded things here, second only in importance to distribution deals. If you make it on to a yacht you are a magician. It was disheartening experience and I almost gave up and went back to the apartment, the but the English filmmaker, Emma, invited me to to sneak into the hotel majestic bar with her. The three of us did and  I had my first Manhattan. It was glorious. 

Tuesday I awoke and after wandering around Cannes for an hour trying to pick a breakfast place, finally choosing one and eating, I went to the American pavilion for the screening of his film along with several others. The film was called Cora and was the story of his grandmother surviving racism and domestic abuse in Memphis in the 50's. It was a beautiful film, along with many of the others, and I was lucky enough to spend most of the day at the American pavilion hanging out with Kevin and his lead actress Latarsha. At the reception afterwards I had conversations with so many interesting people and business cards were doing a heavy trade. The American pavilion is one of a line of tents that boarders the beach, so there we all were chatting, eating French food, and looking out on the ocean. 

Last night Brett and I were sitting down to eat at randomly chosen restaurant when I heard music drifting up the street and recognized the voice. I leapt up and ran down the alley after the voice and found the busker playing. It was Amy May. Amy is a singer songwriter based in LA who I discovered playing on the 3rd street promenade two years ago and have been listening to ever since. I went up to talk to her between songs and she was so delighted that I'd found her here 5000 miles from our home. She asked me what my favorite song of hers was and then played it for me. It was a wonderful moment of kismit.

I will write about the last two days more in detail soon. I've had less free time than I would've expected here. There has been no swimming as of yet in the beautiful blue sea.

This place, this event, is a strange things. It can make you feel connected to your fellow artists and absolutely alive, or small pointless and no one, much like the film industry itself.

I'm glad I came though

Yours truly, 

Drama queen 

Drama Queen Rides Again

...and we're back. It's been two years since Drama Queen last ran rampant across the pond and I'm here to tell you folks she's gearing up to ride again. 

So in the time since I last blogged I've moved to LA and continued pursuing the acting. A short film I was lucky enough to play a supporting character in last year , entitled Youth, is having its local premier in San Francisco tomorrow. Which is why I'm currently on a bus up to that great city in the fog right now. 

After my return is when the bigger trip happens. Youth is having one of its premier screenings at the Festival de Cannes, and I have decided to bite the bullet, take the risk, dance with Lady Luck so to speak, and go with it. That's right folks, Drama Queen is going to Cannes. I'm going to spend just over a week there. I've spoken to many people who are festival regulars and researched it thoroughly and have absolutely no idea what's going to happen. I decided I needed an adventure and then this dropped into my lap. I couldn't have asked for a better opportunity. I'll be blogging as often as possible(not sure what my wifi situation will be but I'll make it work) and I hope you all will follow along and feel free to chime in in the comments.

I've decided to blog about my San Francisco excursion, brief though it is, because it feels like the opener for the Cannes trip. So far yesterday and today have been fraught with obstacles, and I had moment this morning where I debated canceling.

I woke up yesterday morning to find my iPhone 5, such a recent machine compared to the vastness of history but already decrepit in the eyes of Apple, had kicked the bucket. I was stone cold dead and nothing could revive it. The idea of traveling without a phone did NOT fill me with joy and I didn't have much time to figure out an alternative as I had a doctors appointment to get to. 

Luckily I live with my resourceful parents and my dad handed me his cellphone to use out in the world then set to work finding me a replacement. When I returned from the doctor we made a much unwanted trek to the mall to visit the Apple Store and I am now writing this post in a brand spanking new iPhone 6. Although I bristle at being controlled by Apples planned obsolescence, I must admit having a new phone is quite nice.

But the fun didn't stop there. I woke up this morning to find I'd somehow, sleeping in my bed, thrown my low back out. It spasmed every time I moved a certain way like my spine was playing a painful game of hot cold with me. I very nearly cancelled, but I didn't.

Moving very slowly I managed to get my luggage out to the Lyft and then from the Lyft to the bus. I probably confused everyone with my gate, why is a young woman in a Ramones t shirt walking like an eighty year old whose just had hip surgery?

The important thing is I made it on the bus.

I'm settled in with my back support cushion in place and a collection of short stories to read. San Francisco here I come.

Premier info and photos to follow. 

Yours sincerely,

Drama Queen

It's a Bittersweet Biscuit to Swallow

I am writing this from my bed in America. Four days ago(has it been that long already?) on Saturday we woke up around 8 to get to the theatre by 9:30, practiced our piece in the actual theatre for the first time while the lighting cues were being figured out around us.  A quick lunch break and then it was time. The Aberdonian group went first, with a devised piece based on Hansel and Gretel, which was quite spooky actually. Then it was us. It went amazingly well. We were all practically off book from all of our rehearsal, and the entire play had been staged, so despite the lack of set it seemed put together. One tense moment when I couldn't find my script for the town hall scene and in a moment of panic grabbed Lily's from her hand, but in the end both she and I both knew all our lines and the audience was none the wiser. Having the audience always adds a new element to a show that you can't predict, and this time it gave me a huge jolt of energy. Everything I did was greater and at the end of the nightmare scene, where I'm supposed to scream a little monologue, when I'd finished I realized I'd screamed so loud that my abdominal muscles were cramping. It was a marvelous feeling when we'd finished. Most of all I'll treasure when Jodie(the actually playwright) told me I did a wonderful job. It was such an honor to work with her and I hope I will again. Judith hugged me and said it was amazing which was high praise coming from her. Dave told me it had been really good. it was so heartwarming to get praise from people whose opinion I value and who I dearly hope to work with again. We all did amazingly and I was so proud of everyone when the lights went down on the final scene and I realized we did the whole thing without a hitch.

The Aberdonians and all of us somehow managed to find a table for 18 and spent the time before our reservation getting Dave and Mallory's presents together. Amongst other things they got Britain's best Mum and Dad mugs, which I'm happy to say they found hilarious, if they hadn't I'm not sure how that conversation would have gone down. We ate and then headed back to the dorms. I finished packing and  took a shower, when I came downstairs to see what everyone was up to I found them all playing one of those strange games where you always end up saying strangly personal things(i.e. truth or dare), this one was called paranoia. Mallory, Dave and I sat in the corner and participated but after a while went up to bed. I hugged all the Aberdonians good bye, realizing that a year would be a very long time to have none of them in my life. Then, feeling sad about leaving them, I went to bed. That was about 11:30. At 3 am Dave knocked on my door to wake me up. When I'd dragged my self from bed and pulled on my airplane clothes, I went down the hall to Kemp's room when everyone else was, and had been from the past four hours. They were full to the gills with sugar and caffeine in an attempt to stay up all night and somehow beat the jet lag. They were giggly nostalgic bundles of tiredness. We all went out to the bus and, trying not to cry, I hugged Dave and Mallory good bye. I'll really miss them, their weird senses of humor and the lovely long conversations we'd had walking between the theatre and the dorms. Unlike the Aberdonians I don't have the certainty of knowing I'll see them next summer. But that's all the more reason to go back to Scotland soon. We climbed on the bus and waved goodbye until they were out of sight. I stared out the window as the bus rolled along, trying to take in every last sight of Aberdeen I could. It is a beautiful city, especially at night. Two hours later as I walked out to the the airplane that would take me to London Heathrow, I promised Scotland I would be back.

The next 15 hours were an unpleasant blur of airport and then airplane. When I stumbled out of the gate at SFO I was ready to sleep for a very long time. I came home and Mom and Dad got me sushi, proof that they're exemplary parents. I fell asleep in my own bed, and had the most relaxed sleep I'd had for two weeks.

Now a few days later I'm finally getting my feet back under me. Emotionally I'm having a ping pong match that seems firmly tied. As exciting and adventurous as travel is it serves the very important purpose of reminding you to be grateful for home. Home may or may not be where the heart is, but more importantly home is where your bed, your refrigerator, and your washing machine are. Home is also, for me at least, where you are comfortable. Where you know people will laugh at your jokes, and if they don't laugh at least understand what you were trying to say. The result of being very close with my parents is that we have a sort of language, well more a dialect all our own. When I'm out on my own for prolonged periods of time, I discover just how foreign that dialect can seem. It is a great relief to be home. On the other hand I'm missing Scotland a lot more than you'd think only two weeks there would produce. I miss all the granite stone houses and cobblestone streets. I miss hearing a scottish or english accent and not a californian upward inflection from the people behind cash registers and coffee counters. I miss the fog and the fickle tempered rain. I wish I could go to another ceilidh and dance with Scottish strangers and friends again. Most of all, I miss the people I spent those two weeks with, so much so that its like a stomach ache when I think of them. I'm glad that returning home felt good, otherwise I would be very miserable, but I don't want to let go of my longing for Scotland either.

All in all I'm very glad I went on this trip, and I'm very grateful I got to see Scotland. I don't know how I will accomplish it, but I will be going back someday in the not to distant future. I will most definitely be going back to Aberdeen, but I also want to explore Glasgow and Edinburgh.

This post marks the end of one journey, but I hope soon I will be writing one to mark the beginning of another.

Sincerely,

Drama Queen

P.S. The play will go up in February. I'll let you know how its going.

Finish line in sight, turn back!

Hello readers,

This trip has gone so fast and the end is now in sight, hence the title. Today is Friday that leaves tomorrow before our flight home . The play workshopping is coming along at an astounding rate. In fact we have just finished our third full run through. Tomorrow we get to practice at the theatre, and then we perform. I wish we had another week or two here, not just because I like it so much, but because I want to get this wonderful play I have the honor of being in into a finished and polished state, worthy if the price of a ticket. We saw an amazing piece of theatre night before last in the theatre we'll be doing our staged reading in. It was devised, but on a level way above what we did. It was a life on WWI, about six young soldiers from Bristol who all were in a boys choir when they were young. It was very moving and the impact of the violence and futility of war hit us full in the face without the actors ever enacting a single battle scene. I'm now harboring dreams of coming back to Britain to do theatre after I get some film work under my belt.

Last we attended the youth festival dance gala. It was a mixed basket when it came to talent but full steam ahead on the enthusiasm. A dance troupe of Azerbaijanis where on their game. They danced around the stage in perfect sync, their legs tapping and kicking at high speed, and conviction and pride radiating from them like the sun. A group from Israel did 6, I repeat 6, seperate numbers. They unfortunately weren't great. Not terrible, but their choreography was pedestrian and the dancers weren't trained or rehearsed as much as they could have been. A ballet group from the Czech  republic were elegant beyond belief, and though their dance was long, we were hooked the entire time. All in all it was a fun time.

It's our second to last night, and I'm about to go join everyone down stairs for group hangout and dinner. I'm missing my parents and my creature comforts, but I also don't want to leave. I've worked with people here I wish I could keep working with to an even higher level of theatre. There are people who I would like to think are friends, who I don't know when I will see again. I have to have faith that the universe will cross our paths again. I have loved the buzz of being in a city with a heart and mind completely different from any city I've ever lived in. I will miss the beauitful countryside, and accents. Going home feels like the end of the adventure, when the adventure feels like it's only just begun. But I have to remember that life is an adventure if you make it that way, and I will continue doing what I love, whether in California or Scotland. I return home with renewed purpose in my chosen profession.

I've got to go. I'll let you know how the show goes.

Sincerely,

Drama Queen

Monday morning I wake up tired

Hello lovely readers,

Sorry I've been absent. I haven't had wifi for the past two days so I couldn't reach you.

The performance Saturday went swimmingly. We worked hard and were very proud of what we achieved, but none the less we breathed a sigh of relief when it was all over. Yesterday, Sunday, we had a quite rigorous day considering it was our free day. We did all thouroughly Scottish things. In he morning we took a train to the small fishing town of Stonehaven. We hiked to the ruins of castle Dunnotar on a cliff overlooking the sea. It was a beauitful hike and an awe inspiring castle. Then we had some wonderful ice cream in the village and got back on the train home so we could get ready to go to a ceilidh[kay-lee]. A ceilidh is a Scottish dance, an event not a singular dance. Since the dance hall they usually had was under construction and most of the the youth theatre/dance/music groups showed up, we were packed quite snugly into a large domed tent. The crowding did make it a bit of a Scottish jig mosh pit, but nothing could detract from the pure joy of the dancing. I've never had so much fun at a dance in my life. I shared two of the single partner dances with my chaperones, which was good because they could teach me the steps. I danced with strangers and my group, and at the final dance, strip the willow, I danced with half the people in the tent as one by one partners moved down the rows, alternating linking arms with their partners and then who ever was next in line and swing them around. The band was wonderful and the violin seemed to get right down in to my blood. I twirled, waltzed, spun, jumped, and swung round till I was out of breath and still eager for more. The dances flew by and before I knew it it was almost midnight and we we stumbling out of the tent and back to our bus. At this point in the evening is was loudly lamenting not being Scottish, because I can tell you that any country that has a ceilidh as part of its traditions is a place I want to be.

We woke up this morning, tired and sore from hiking and dancing, and went to our first day of working on the script. We finally got to meet the play write and did several read throughs with her, discussing the changes and additions needed. It's a very interesting topic and what we have so far is very good, so I'm eager to see the new pages she's promised us. However, sitting down at a table reading for several hours after a week of days filled with movement meant we were sluggish and tired, especially after last night. Tomorrow will be more active as we start staging the scenes.

We came back and I spent the evening trying to get clean clothes from the finicky dormitory washer and dryer.

I'll include some photos from Sunday.

Until tomorrow hopefully.

Sincerely,

Drama Queen

The point of the photo is the castle in the distance not the couple

Dunnotar

Chelsea freaking out over how beauitful it is.

It rained intermittently while we were wandering around

Sleep, theatre, eat, repeat

Hey there hi there ho there,

Sorry for the absence. We've been devising a piece for the past three days that goes up tomorrow. I've just finished writing a monologue today that I have to do tomorrow to close the show, so I've been a bit pressed. I'm loving it though. The theatre company we've been working with has really impressed me. I have so much respect for the woman whose been directing us and were doing such interesting work. I'm really pleased with the piece and that I will have some of my own work in it. It's about identity, conformity, and individualism. Fairly trodden ground I know but I think we do some interesting things with it. We've got some dance, some scenes with symbolic balloons, a great scene reminiscent of Orwell's 1984, and a few monologues. I'm excited.

Wednesday was just another day of working in this piece, but in the evening we went to a BBQ at one of the Scottish girls(Sophie) house. Everyone had a good time and the food was good. I'm not much of a party animal but good food is good food.

Thursday was more devising followed by some shopping and then a deliciousness company meal at a pizza restaurant that did gluten free crust on any pizza! I'm finding more gluten free options in Scotland than America. Along with the accent, people, multitude of theatre, and beauitful scenery I'm tempted to break up with America and move in with Scotland.

Today we had to get up an hour early to meet with Domenique and discuss the script and it's rewrites. I'm too tired to go into script details now but it's the story of a small island that has no government representation and is attempting to rebel. I couldn't belive it when Domenique asked me to play Cromarty, one of the mains characters and the island representative. I was beaming inside all morning. Then we set to work, pulling tight on the ropes of our piece and finally pulling the pieces together. This evening we saw a fantastic show by a youth theatre company called Our Scotland. A somewhat musical comedy dedicated to their love of their homeland. We were in stitches for most of it.

Well I was up late last night writing my monologue and tonight memorizing it so I must go. Included are some photos of the park right next to the theatre where we had a picnic.

Sincerely,

Drama Queen