There was something odd about this weeks rehearsal. Something awry, an unsettling feeling that filled the air and raised nipple hairs. An eerie quiet permeated the atmosphere that I couldn’t quite put my finger on until I glanced around the room and it all fell into place. Of course, no blindingly blonde curls . . .  no blazingly bold fashions . . . no inner ear epilepsy inducing shrillness . . . NO M.T.! 

Rumours were flying as to why she wasn’t around. Had she met a Bolivian circus midget and eloped to Santa Fe for a shotgun wedding? Could she be the new celebrity lawyer for fugitive Tony Mokbel? Did the US military really kidnap her for use in experimental and highly classified sonic-warfare projects? Or had she in-fact read the last blog entry and subsequently made it her life’s effort to shut Dimboola down? No-one could say for sure, all we knew was that one of those options was probably true . . . but which one? 

In any case her presence was sadly missed. Like a flock of lame goslings flapping about without their mother goose, so were the cast of Dimboola, though slightly larger, and less feathered . . . and with mouths instead of beaks . . . oh, and arms instead of wings . . . well, you get the idea.     

This weeks rehearsal began with something many actors dread like the black plague - no not being cast as Rum Tum Tugger in Bacchus Marsh Primary school’s never ending no-budget production of Cats! This week began with each actor facing a panel of the rest of their fellow actors for grueling improv character interviews. It was like an Australian Idol audition panel gone haywire, except instead of Marcia, Dicko & Mark, with constructive questions and comments such as “goony goo goo, googy goony goo gaa to the max times ten,” it was twelve blood-hungry actors foaming at the mouths and trying like buggery to trip each other up & break each other down! Surprisingly however, despite conditions reminiscent of that delightful period in history, the spanish inquisitions, everyone did really well! 

Special mentions must be made of Margaret Younger, Liz McColl, and Renee Palmer who slipped seamlessly and securely into their characters. From a typical country lady to a husband bashing bitch and a sumptuously sexually secure slapper, these ladies set the bar for the rest of the cast, taking no guff whatsoever from the panel & showing them just how its done. Quite impressive indeed ladies, well done.

I suppose if we’re mentioning the successes here, we should also be mentioning the failures as well, but failure is such a negative word, so I’d prefer to use something else, something softer and less aggressive, like . . . Dan McBurnie. Yes that should do, we should probably mention Dan McBurnie’s as well as the successes. Dan was unfortunately not left unscathed by the Panel after he accidentally referred to using the internet during his panel beating. Of course, the internet had not really been invented in 1969 when the play is set, so this posed quite a bit of a historical accuracy dilemma. I mean who was correct, Dan McBurnie, or the history of the planet earth and its human inhabitants? The jury is still out on that one but I’ll endeavor to keep you updated!

In his defense, it must be stated that by the time Dan got in-front of the panel they were baying for blood an were relentless with their persecution. This, coupled with Rob firing some particularly curly and detailed questions at him, put Dan in the midst of the most difficult barrage of questions for the day! So don’t worry Danny boy, wipe your eyes and put on a smile, you can come out of the cupboard now, the bad people have gone away, we still love you.

Continuing the improvisational tact of the day, we followed the character interviews with some mock character/audience interaction. Improvising the arrival of audience members being greeted by the cast at the post-wedding reception, I was given the task of being an audience member & was able to experience just what it will be like on opening night. And may I say, you guys are gonna have a blast! Swept up in the action from the moment you arrive its like being at a real wedding, except that the cringe-worthy embarrassing relatives making fools of themselves aren’t related to you!

Oh and just a word up for you blokes out there (or shielas come to think of it). Watch out for Renee, cos she was like a cat on heat in rehearsals, I had to beat her off with a wooden stick and crack Rob’s whip a few times to calm her down. And that was before we had started the exercise! And I wasn’t the only one, we had a number of complaints from two fold out chairs and a table leg, of sexual misconduct. Luckily they’ve agreed to settle, but it didn’t help the budget!    

Finally, glutton for punishment as always, Rob’s eardrums had obviously ceased bleeding after last rehearsal because like a true masochist, he was ready for more! And boy did we deliver! Or, rather, did the boys deliver, because without Mother Superior M.T. the ladies were left somewhat tuneless. In their defense there were quite a few more dongas than hoo-hoos in the room which didn’t help. But I have never quite heard anything like the cacophony that came out of those pretty mouths! It was astounding, I did try and record some of it but my sound recorder had already hung itself (RIP Soundee, RIP little buddy). Apparently they use sounds like this in Guantanamo Bay, hmmm.... maybe I’m not fully aware of the power I could harness from these weapons of mass destruction. 

I must say, however, that while they were for the most part atrocious, the girls did achieve (albeit unintentionally) the creation of off-key harmonies, or dissonance, which I’m told is actually extremely hard to do and can only be achieved by the most talented of singers. So there you go ladies, perhaps you should piss off this acting business and pursue the world of Deltas & Kylies.

Well, I suppose thats quite enough cast bashing for this week.

Until next time my little bloggeroo’s, stay tuned for the next installment of:

“DIMBOOLA: The Matrimonial Makings Of A Monster.”

=Lachlan - as cute as the peachy fuzz on your ass - MacLeod=

Directors Assistant/Assistants Director.

Fly On The Wall Theatre.