Hooves on Fire (RSC Dream 16 Blog): A Donkey's Tale by the Nonentities Bottom: "The Year of the Donkey"

It's official. Forget the Year of the Monkey. 2016 without a doubt is going to be the Year of the Donkey. Well of course I would say that wouldn't I ? It's common knowledge to all readers of this blog that I am playing Bottom with the Nonentities in Stratford in Feb/March and June this year. It's going to be an unforgettable experience and an event which will be one of the 'stand out' moments of my life so far. But as I head towards the rehearsals 'kicking off' proper (donkey terminology already infiltrating my psyche), I've actually had a real epiphany about my Bottom and who I am basing him on. I'm the sort of actor who likes to find a starting point to build a character from. Up till now, the inspiration for the interpretation has been based on general ideas about trades people and workers. But just before Christmas 2015 all that was about to change. And surprisingly, it's come from a source that was there all the time……...

The BBC have been following a number of us around filming our reactions to the RSC hangouts and tasks and also in our natural habitats. Part of this process has involved having an in depth one to one interview about my dramatic pathway. Amongst the questions, the most difficult to answer was the one: "What would your parents think about you performing at the RSC ?" Sadly, both of them have 'gone to glory' and I could only answer it by saying I thought they would be 'proud' because they were the type of parents who never stopped me from pursuing my dreams as I grew up. Hard question really.

I come from a 'working class' background. My dad worked at the Longbridge Car Plant for most of his life and my mom stayed at home to look after myself and my brother. Working in the car factory was a dirty job and my Dad had one of the most repetitive jobs of all-working on 'the track'. This involved fixing together endless pieces of components as they moved along on one great converter belt. In that sense, he was a mechanical. On the odd occasion he would swear too, so I guess he was also 'rude' at times. He came home from that job every weekday dirty and tired.

When I was younger I sometimes used to go and meet him at the factory gate, as a swarm of car workers flooded out from Longbridge in their working clothes, caps and grime. This was a job that involved blood, sweat and carburettors. Graft of the highest order. Working men working long hours to manufacture car parts for the automotive industry. I don't think at the time I appreciated how much patience, determination and stamina had to go into this kind of physical work. The smiles of the workers leaving the gate a relief that the shift was over and that they could go home and escape the monotony of the track. Banter and goodbyes exchanged as they set off for the buses or cars to get them home to their council houses.

Leisure for my parents had to wait till the weekend, where they escaped the black and white world of our EKCO box TV set and danced their way down to the British Legion in Hockley, Birmingham. This was the world of club entertainment and bingo and full of working class trades people who like my parents  lived for their Saturday night foxtrot. It was a bit of an alien world to me and as a young boy I passed a lot of the time observing how the adults behaved. This was a real grounding in developing characterisations as my interest in acting developed ! Amongst the mild and bitter, the cheese and pickle sandwiches and standing at the end of the evening to the National Anthem, you really got a sense of workers at play. The banter, the fun, the singing, the drunkeness…..but a real spirit and sense of community and celebration. It was lovely to see my Dad come alive at the weekend considering the slog of the work he had to do to keep paying the rent.

So where is this 'tail' (donkey in the psyche breaking through again) going ? I recently received the costume designs from the RSC. Looking through the ideas for Bottom's costume, I came across a group shot of factory workers. It reminded me of the type of men I saw coming through the gates at Longbridge all those years ago. That's when I had my epiphany. It had been there all along. The inspiration for my Bottom is actually rooted in my past. Suddenly, it all fell into place. There in my Dad was Bottom himself-a worker, a man full of warmth, who enjoyed meeting his friends down the club, who never forgot where he was from and proud to be from the 'working class'.

When I read my lines, I can now hear my Dad's voice echoing in them, can see those looks and gestures when he was telling me something really important or just indulging in repeating the catch phrase of a Dad joke for the third time running. He has inadvertently become my acting inspiration for this part and though he's not around to see whether I do a decent job of my 'Brummagem Bottom', I think he'd be chuffed to see me walking out on that stage.

So, when you see my Bottom, I hope you'll catch glimpses of a man who was a true, rude mechanical in every sense of the phrase: Edwin Clarke the car mechanic-al. Nuff said.