A Pointy Reckoning - The Crucible (Part Two) - My Stage Door Experience...

So...Let me set the scene...

It was Thursday 11th September. Two days before the end of The Crucible's run. I was still disappointed in myself for not having the chance to try and meet Mr Armitage due to my silly mistake of seeing a matinée performance, but was still buzzing from the experience and how lucky I had been to see him live at all. 

On this day in "Richardember", I was in London to meet a friend. We had planned to meet at Southwark station to go to Tate Modern for the evening. Little did I know that several hours later I would be meeting Richard Armitage... 

So I arrived promptly at the station (I like to be on time, hehe) to meet my friend and waited. And waited. Then I got a text. My friend had cancelled on me! At first I was pretty disappointed, and thought: "what is there to do in this part of town? I'm here, so I might as well do something for a bit". And then it came to me.

Now, those who know London well will know that Southwark station is in Waterloo, and is only several minutes walk from a theatre which was, at the time, was showing a play I was really interested in (do you see where I am going with this? ;) ).

Yes! You got it! I thought to myself "Oh! Why don't you try and get a ticket to see The Crucible again?!". It would be an evening performance. This was my perfect chance to make up for missing the chance to try and meet Richard the first time! So I approached the theatre (it was around 5pm). In all honestly, I was very skeptical I would get a ticket - when I arrived there were already several people lining up for return tickets, and I knew that considering the play was near the end of it's run it would be popular and tickets would be like gold-dust. But I thought to myself, "you have nothing to lose, don't waste this chance again", and so I waited. And waited. And waited. 

An hour and a half passed and still the queue remained stationary. My feet ached a bit but I was feeling determined and positive. I waited some more. At 7pm the queue finally started to move - people were arriving with spare tickets from people who were coming with friends who had cancelled on them, like mine did. 7.10pm - further movement. I was getting closer... was I about to get myself a ticket? ...Then, it happened...

A lady approached - she was a teacher with a school party and had several spare tickets in the Upper Circle, would I like one? And I grabbed my opportunity with both hands and took it! The ticket was very reasonably priced too, but I just considered myself lucky that I was going to get to see it again! I had just enough time for a quick loo visit and to get settled. 

I was much further away this time. But considering the price I had paid for my ticket I was ecstatic, as I could see everything! The theatre was just as electrifying and packed as it had been the last time. I sat next to a woman who was also in the queue with me, we both shared our excitement at lucking out and getting a ticket. I readied myself to enjoy it all again, and it began...

With a different seat, came a different experience. I enjoyed it even better the second time, and in a completely different way. I was less star struck this time. I felt able to actually step back and watch what was going on, and even though things were further away, it somehow felt like I got a better idea of the concept of the play as a whole from this distance. With this, came a different reaction to the piece. I commented, in my last post, on how I was surprised at how lacking in tears I had been. This time was quite different. Though I still wasn't sobbing enough to warrant a tissue, I felt much more angry this time, and much more moved; I admit I did shed a tear in Act Four this time around!

Richard was electrifying and heartbreaking as Proctor

As for Richard? Well.... He had his voice back this time around and seemed much more energised than last time. I wondered whether this was due to it being an evening performance? (actors often say they are "Night Owls" who are at their best at night), or whether, because the play was soon ending, he was just letting everything flow out, all previous anxieties about playing the role having fallen away. By Act Four he was completely wild with sorrow. I'd never heard that tone in his voice, nor such a vulnerability in his demeanour before that point in any of his work. It was simply breathtaking, heartbreaking. "Because it is my Name!" - his voice broke at that moment. 

I remember watching Marlise Boland, of the Anglophile Channel, say that Richard "bore his soul" in his performance when she had seen it. In that harrowing moment, I could see exactly what she meant when she had said that. The video of her account is included here, if you're interested:

The play came to an end, to rapturous applause. Then I realised. It was time...

"Seize the moment!" I told myself as I hurried down the flights of stairs, wriggling my way through the procrastinating crowds piling out of the theatre. "Go to the Stage Door! Even if you just get to glimpse him, that's better than nothing at all".

By the time I reached the Stage Door, there was a queue right the way to the front of the theatre. I was amazed to see this. It couldn't have been more than 5 minutes between the play ending and this crowd forming. It was quite surreal.  I waited nervously at the back, already expecting Richard would rush out and whizz past me in such a flurry I might as well have not bothered. 

In this moment, I noticed a strange tenseness in the air, there was almost a sour feel to it. I felt then, somehow, a little guilty. I had seen photos of early Stage Door experiences; people queuing up politely, Richard being his polite and generous self and signing things, taking plenty of pictures. The atmosphere around me on this night, however, felt more like a crowd waiting for a star at a Red Carpet Premiere. It almost felt like were we vultures, waiting for our opportunity to swoop in and claim our prize. It was not a nice feeling at all. 

Along with this feeling, I was quite overwhelmed by the play emotionally, it was all a mad blur. However, I remained surprisingly calm - I was determined not to waste this moment as I might never get it again. Then, what must have been a further 5 minutes later, I heard things pick up and the front of the crowd, and saw flashing lights. He had come out to say hello!...

What happened next occurred in such a whirlwind I still can hardly believe it; and yet I relive the moment in my head as if it happened over a matter of minutes, not seconds...

The flashes and noise came closer and closer; then I saw him. He wore a blue zip up jacket and "that Nike cap". I could hardly believe it was actually him! He came closer; I remember watching him, probably with my mouth gaping in awe (hehehe), as he posed for a picture for someone. He moved so fast up the line, which I completely understood - I expected him to stop halfway, why wouldn't he when exhausted after such a draining performance? - but he kept coming closer and closer.

It was in that moment I realised I hadn't thought far ahead enough about what I wanted to do or say. I had my ticket and program in my hand and decided instantly that an autograph was the best option. I am not usually that fussed about asking for autographs as I much prefer an interaction with the person (if I can get my words out, lol!). But on this occasion it seemed the only chance I had to see him, even if he managed not to sign anything. He was getting closer. I could hear his voice now - it was hoarse, as expected, but he still said "bless you, thanks" in quick succession as he moved up the line, which I thought was very good of him. I noticed though he kept his head down and moved along the line almost in autopilot mode, squiggling away with his Sharpie, which is why what happened next was just so remarkable and special to me.

He was a metre away now; I readied myself with my ticket for him to sign. Perhaps it was because I was near the back of the crowd, where the people were thinning out, but as he reached out to sign my ticket, I watched his hand... and he seemed to slow down a bit, and gave me a really lovely autograph! As he did so I said "thanks for this". And then (teehee!) he looked up at me, looked me straight in the eyes and said: "Thank You for coming" with a modest, friendly smile. I stared back, in complete shock! I said "Thank you... thank you..." again (as if once wasn't enough, ay?! *rolls eyes*) in a wobbly voice (damn my wobbly nervous voice!) and stepped aside apologetically - I didn't want to keep him any longer than he needed to be - I felt so bad, I wanted him to get home and rest after such a performance. He looked away and moved off down the line. 

I hovered, and watched him move to the end of the line, and then walk back up the line, with his trusty Ola by his side (pictured below).He walked back up towards the Stage Door and into the distance.

#heaintheavyhesmybro

I waved goodbye to The Old Vic, and rushed back to the station to catch the last train (it was 11.30pm by this point!). On my way home I had time to digest what had happened; how I had felt, what I had observed of Richard close up...

What I noticed first was that I thought Richard wasn't half as tall as people say he is, nor interviewers seem to go on about. Not that he was short, but I was expecting to have to crane my neck upwards, but I didn't! There are some great quotes from Richard about the troubles he faces being in the acting profession, in that it seems a great many actors are short. This must truly be the case, because I am only 5"6, of average height for a woman, but from what I remember Richard was not too far from eye level with me. Now, that could be because he was standing on the street and I the curb, or because he was hunched over from lethargy and/or stooping to sign things. But that was just something I noticed and wanted to share.

Richard on issues he faces with his height

I also thought he looked shattered. His eyes were just as sparkly and bright blue as imagined, but his face looked tired, his eyes slightly puffy, still fresh from his emotive performance, and his features looked more angular than ever up close. He still had that gentleness I always liked about him and was very polite and considerate, but I definitely felt like their was a veil in front of him, like I wasn't really meeting "him". In Conversation at the Old Vic, I remember Richard saying he never really left Proctor behind at night after a performance, and I think this is what I sensed here. In a way, I was meeting John Proctor, still being channelled through Richard Armitage, and not Richard himself. This was totally understandable to me, I didn't feel upset about it at all. If anything, I felt more grateful that he had taken the time to work his way all the way up the line at all; I can't imagine how it must feel to give such a performance and then have to come out to all those expectant people wanting to share a moment with you. I thought he dealt with it perfectly; with grace and patience, and he seemed genuinely grateful for us all being there for him.

*waves goodbye to The Old Vic*

As I approached home, I let the day's exciting and unexpected events wash over me and felt completely contented. I had been so annoyed at myself for not booking an evening ticket and trying to see Richard when I saw the play the first time. But I had followed my instincts and look what it had brought me! I could never have imagined, when I rose that morning, how things would unfold! I consider myself extremely lucky, and I am eternally grateful to Richard for taking such time to interact with those who come and show support for him. What an unforgettable day it had been.

Antigone x