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I really do love me some classical music. Almost as much as I love lawn bowls and eating hummus.
Yeah, it’s not working out. Even when I TYPE the words it doesn’t sound sincere; my fingers rebel when it comes to adding the exclamation point, like they’re perfectly aware that I’m lying and have decided to judge me for my crime. Shouldn’t be surprised, since I’m a terrible actor and I can only get into character when it’s a character that suits me. The big Hollywood stars never have this problem!
My character is supposed to be really snooty, but his dirty secret is that he does a blue-collar job and doesn’t want anyone to know about it. I am Carl, who insists people call him Carlton, he who wears brogues, talks a lot about his favourite composers and secretly works for a Dromana pest control agency. It’s actually a nice job- says right here in the script, ‘nice job’- but dialogue indicates that he hides it like it’s a secret plague. I think it’s because Jess, his love interest, is actually very afraid of cockroaches and he doesn’t want to repulse her by telling her what he does for a job. Even though that job involves removing cockroaches…I haven’t read that far into the script. Maybe that’s actually what happens at the end, even though neither of them are the male and female lead. But you know…they’re pretty important, as side characters and B-plots go.
So, I guess I really need to get to reading the rest of the script. Maybe Carl will reveal that he’s actually tired of acting like an upper class gentleman and is actually a lot like me, embracing his pest and termite control job and becoming just like everyone else.
Gosh, this is a confusing play. And now the director is telling us that we have to act out our professions, although in my local Frankston, termite control all happens way over my head. So basically…I’m stuck as a terrible character.
-Jules
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