I should be happy. Actually, part of me is. A big cheesy, beatific, self-satisfied beam lighting up my face and stretching my lips upward from cheek to cheek. Faded teeth showing (well, I'm a Brit; I have standards to maintain).And it's all because of the reviews of Californian Lives. No, they haven't all been fantastic, but the vast majority that mention my writing do so in glowing terms. "Martin Foreman's Californian Lives is a masterclass on the art of the monologue" says Beige. "Martin Foreman’s writing sparkles at times and is shot through with wry humour and an air of melancholy" opines West End Wilma in the draguise of Tony Peters. "fine descriptive writing" says The Public Reviews. "splendidly understated, yet utterly convincing, portraits of love in California's emotional desert", in the words of Broadway World.
But let me not be selfish. There's plenty of praise to go around. "Robin Holden's performance demands attention ... [he] has a strong sense of stage presence and practically radiates energy ... John Vernon is a brilliant actor ... a very natural and confident performer possessing a great command of language ... Carolyn Lyster carries the material well; her performance is poignant and her character well crafted. Once again, the acting is formidable." One Stop Arts is just one of many reviews that tells us how good the actors are. And let me not forget that "Emma King-Farlow’s direction is to be commended for its lightness of touch" (Entertainment Focus).
What more could I want? Well, headline praise from the nation's dailies and other periodicals, an interview with Graham Norton (although that's a double-edged sword) and an audience with the Queen (Prunella Scales, that is, not that Janey-come-lately who usurped her). But the nation's dailies do not concern themselves with fringe productions that only run twice a week, even if the run is for six weeks, so Californian Lives continues to operate below most people's cultural radar.
C'est la vie. That's life. That's the way the cookie crumbles. Pick up the crumbs, stuff them in your mouth and move on.
In this case, moving on means doffing my writer's cap and donning my producer's beret. At which point I face the reality that a great review does not a full house make. After a good opening weekend, we are following the trend of a poor second week. Advance sales for Sunday and Monday are abysmal.
Who to blame? Well, several candidates put themselves forward. The Great British Public, for one, because they don't read the good reviews, follow the Twitter feeds and Facebook page and rush to tell all their friends and book all the seats so they can resell them at a profit, making themselves a fantastic profit in the process.
But let's be serious. A large part of the problem probably lies with me. As producer I've thrown myself into the deep end of this process and I have made a number of mistakes. Chief among them has been waiting for the reviews to launch the second round of publicity - but I forgot to book the second round in advance and the reviews have come in too late to get out before the upcoming weekend. I've also relied on a designer who, through no fault of her own, has been unable to put together the revised leaflet (that's flier for those of you who have been influenced by US culture / are under 40 years old). Ditto in co-ordinating with our host theatre; I haven't anticipated all the problems that can arise when two sides think they are on the same wavelength and then they discover they aren't.
So I've been spending most of the last few days glued to my computer, tweeting, Facebooking, emailing, calling, nudging, encouraging, pleading various contacts to come or to persuade their contacts to come see the show. Has it been successful? The fact that sometimes it feels as if my metaphorical head were engaging in frequent knocking of the nearest brick wall should give you some idea of my present state of mind. To see whether the head has penetrated the wall or vice versa, check back in a few days when I will blog on the status of the show will come later. In the meantime, with all due humility or arrogance (choose which you prefer), I hereby beg, demand, plead, insist, wish, command, fill in the verb of your choice, that you come to the show. And if you still need convincing, check the reviews.
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