Ebacc To The Future

The introduction of the Ebacc is a worry. It might have been a long time since I donned a hideous school tie (purple, turquoise and grey striped if anyone’s wondering) and dragged my Kickered heels down the corridor to double Chemistry but that doesn’t mean that hearing changes in the system doesn’t sadden me. 

The Ebacc will mean that pupils’ achievements will be recognised in five core subjects: Maths, English, Science, Humanities and Languages. All very serious and worthy subjects and I have no argument with them being there  but where the bloody hell are the creative subjects? What happens if your skills lie in drama or art or music? Once you've dealt with the sheer panic from your parents that you'll be dependant on them for the rest of forever, there's a serious question about what's going to happen to you during school. Instead or nurturing those that have an eye for design or have a knack for acting the fool on stage, the curriculum will now edge those bright minds out and just reward them for the subjects that yes, make you seem smart but leave you with very little skills for the outside world.

I was decently bright at school but it will come as no surprise that drama soon became my favourite subject. I’m quite a shy thing really and, without drama classes, I’m not sure I’d ever have learnt that doing a funny voice in front of people was actually quite fun and something that I wasn’t half bad at. The first time I got up in front of my classmates and made them laugh, I was hooked. It's all very well getting 10 out of 10 in a test about different types of precipitation but it's another thing being applauded on your interpretation of Orinoco Flow (horribily true story that I've only just remembered.) Even if I hadn’t decided to chuck my prospects of ever having a healthy bank balance away, drama taught me to be more confident and creative. I wish I had a better way of putting this without sounding as twee as a box of rose-covered kittens but it gave me a voice that didn’t have to be grounded in fact. It gave me the confidence to express my opinions without having to study a million and one formulas first. I could see something and say how it moved me, what it made me feel and I didn’t have to work out what the bloody equation was or where it fell on a periodic table.

When schools are forced to concentrate on these core subjects, it won’t be long until the creative subjects are phased out and consigned to the extra-curricular box. But when will children have time to do these things out of school? And, even if there is the time, not all parents can afford the cost of sending them to drama classes or piano lessons. Schools are supposed to be there to open up children’s minds to all the possibilities that lay before them but it won’t be long before that creativity is stamped out.  

So please, if a creative subject helped you out when you were at school, please sign the petition to save the future of creativity in our schools. It’s really easy and, if you feel so inclined, you can also write to your MP. Knowing stuff is important but having the opportunity to be creative is even more vital. You can sign the petition here: http://www.baccforthefuture.com/index.html

Something Changed

Firstly, if you haven’t already done so, read this…

http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2012/09/a-letter-from-scared-actress.html

Pretty shocking, huh? The thought of being involved in a project only to find out that not only have they completely changed what you say but that they’ve also turned it into an anti-Islam film is not a good one. And it got me thinking. Of course, it’s pretty rare to find yourself in such a situation but it did make me realise just how much control we give up.

Now, before we start, I’m happy to say that I’ve never been involved in a film that has ended with me having anti-Islam propaganda dubbed over my ramblings. Far from it. In fact, I’ve only been dubbed once and that was because I’d wildly exaggerated my music playing abilities and the director wasn’t impressed with my quivering version of Three Blind Mice. However, once you’ve finished prancing around in front of the camera, you hand over control to the powers that be and your screen fate is in their twitchy hands. During filming you’ve had wonderful ideas in your head of how the final product will look. In your rose-tinted brain, you’re wonderfully lit and every shot is beautifully framed and captures your every thought and word perfectly. 

But we know that this isn’t the case. What usually happens is that during your main scene, the light was just a bit off or someone failed to spot that the Red Arrows were performing 12 flypasts and your moment to shine instead turns into showcasing you as a disembodied voice. What was once gorgeous showreel material is now far better suited to going on your voicereel . You should be on screen in full cinematic glory but instead you’re reduced to embarrassingly pointing out your arm coming into shot  and trying to work out whether that’s your ear on screen. 

However, what’s even worse is when the damn thing doesn’t see the light of day ever again. The first two commercials I was involved disappeared off the face of the earth, both clearly too awful to even be shown at 1am on Food Network. While neither advert demanded a great deal of my acting talents, I was still excited about being involved in something that might actually make it on to TV. Everyone I’d ever met was on high-alert looking out for it but, after a few months, it’s safe to say that their interest waned. Then, one evening, I saw an advert for one of the products. I shifted to the edge of my sofa and scrutinised the screen hoping to catch a glimpse of myself. Nothing. My mum rang. I just saw the advert on TV. You weren’t in it. I explained that it wasn’t the advert I’d shot and that none of the other people I was filming with were in it either. I convinced myself that it was still to come and held a vigil by my TV for months waiting for it. Finally, after a year, I had to face up to the realisation that it just wasn’t going to be seen by anyone.

But to see it and find that it’s been changed to something entirely different?  I count myself very lucky indeed.

Confused

It's no wonder us limelight lovers get a tad confused from time to time. The lies we have to consider just to possibly be seen for a job are the kind of ludicrous tales that would make a low-rent fraudster blush. When growing up, I never realised that a strong part of my job would be pretending to strangers that I'm actually fairly competent at playing the flute. And I'm pretty sure, when my parents stared down at me on the day I was born, their one wish was that I would spend my adult days desperately clutching on to a stage combat qualification that expired years ago and claiming that accidentally picking up one Arabic word a year constitutes as learning the language. I mean, it's bad enough that we have to trick our mind into being someone else when we're on stage or in front of a camera but when we're doing it in our day to day life too? Surely that's something to be worrying about.

This morning, while on my daily futile search for work, I found a lovely advert for a children's show. Reading through it all sounded very delightful until it came to the character's description. Physically I fit the bill but the extras required were a little more challenging. However with a little bit of truth twisting, I'm sure I can pretend that I'm the actress for them...

Must be able to sing well - I sound awesome singing Elmo's Song in the shower (if you don't know this song, I urge you to stop reading and go here instead.)
Ability to play multiple musical instruments - as previously stated, I do know how to hold a flute. I can also actually play the piano. Let's just ignore the fact that I've previously owned an oboe, a violin, an accordian and a guitar yet have neglected to learn a single tune on any of them.
Circus skills - T will vouch for the amount of times that I nearly fall over, bump into things and drop items. The fact that I've yet to injure myself must mean I have some sort circus-worthy skill.

So, after convincing myself that I'm entirely right for the job, I went about applying. I marketed myself as the perfect performer for children's theatre. I put myself across as the smiley, bubbly performer that I rarely am. I highlighted all the children's theatre that people have bafflingly allowed me to part of and hoped that they ignore all the battered wives, prostitutes and soldiers that I've also played. Proud of my little cheery application, I fired it off and went in search of the next job.

A paid job for an online commercial came up. Perfect. There were two roles applicable for me being a lady type under 30. Excellent stuff. I had two roles to choose from. However, the two roles available were for a French Maid and a Stripper. Oh. Sadly the truth-twisting game didn't work quite so well this time...

Slim - while still able to fit into old clothes, Christmas has most definitely taken its toll and the layer of stilton and Pringles that I'm currently sporting is probably only of interest to those in the insulation game.
Sexy - my favourite pair of knickers is covered in cartoon monsters.
Seductive - the only thing that gives me a slightly husky voice is sleeping next to a wall with a propensity for damp.

Could I really go from marketing myself as the perfect children's performer to trying to convince someone that I'd be the ideal French Maid? The fact is that, despite my high regard for the human race and my firm belief that no one needs to see me flouncing around in a French Maid's outfit, I could easily justify my suitability for this role. And now it has just been announced that a casting website is now allowing actors to add up to five 'character types' to their profile. I'm off to see if I can market myself as the first sex-bomb, girl next door, street-tough, posh, princess. Let's see those job offfers come flooding in.