Warming Up

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Thursday 17th April 2003

With only three more shows to go after tonight I think I have to accept that Talking Cock is not going to take off and fly at the Melbourne Festival.
I had just over 50 people in tonight and they were the quietest audience I think the show has ever had (at least Elton John interrupted the pre-Christmas performance by loudly talking to the person next to him).
With six hangovers catching up with me, I could feel myself squinting under the bright theatre lights. I put as much into it as I could, but it's very difficult to remain enthusiastic when the audience don't give you anything back.
One woman laughed very hard at the joke about the man bleeding on to his girlfriend's sheets and I asked if that had happened to her. "No," said her friend, "she's just bought $600 sheets."
So she was just laughing at how annoying that would be if it happened to her. Even me pointing this out didn't make the rest of the audience laugh.
The professional inside me wants to do the best show that I can. After all, I might have had an audience of 50 mutes who are really enjoying the show, but cannot outwardly express it. But the temptation is to put your head down and rattle through it. I found myself cutting a few gags that I guessed these people wouldn't like.
But it's important to remember that it isn't the audience's fault. They are, after all, the ones who have come to the show. It's the other few million inhabitants of Melbourne that I should be berating, if anyone. I only needed 550 more of them. Was that too much to ask?
I decided that maybe I should have an early night for the first time in a week and I slept like a baby with a massive hangover.