<\/p>\n
Jamie Oxenbould (left) and Mark Kilmurry are familiar with the world of amateur dramatics.<\/span>Credit: <\/span>James Brickwood<\/cite><\/p>\n In the play, it is the opening night of an amateur theatre company\u2019s new show. Most of the cast have called in sick, but the director and two remaining actors are determined the show must go on \u2013 which is their first mistake.<\/p>\n \u201cYou know sometimes the show shouldn\u2019t go on,\u201d says Oxenbould. \u201cI always say, \u2018Why must the show go on? Cancel it. Give them their money back\u2019. It\u2019s just a play. It\u2019s not like it\u2019s a brain operation.\u201d<\/p>\n Oxenbould is very familiar with the world of amateur dramatics after being raised on Sydney\u2019s north shore by parents who were keen performers.<\/p>\n \u2018Why must the show go on? Cancel it. It\u2019s just a play. It\u2019s not like it\u2019s a brain operation.\u2019<\/p>\n \u201cI grew up with me and my brothers sitting in the rehearsal room,\u201d he says. \u201cMy mum was a nurse. My dad worked in the bank. They both had jobs and lives and everything, but they just loved amateur theatre. That was their hobby.\u201d<\/p>\n However, even as a youngster, Oxenbould could detect there were some people on stage whose enthusiasm outstripped their abilities by a considerable margin.<\/p>\n \u201cThere were a couple of people I think I could tell were not fit for the stage,\u201d he says. \u201cThey were in musicals but obviously couldn\u2019t sing or dance \u2026 or act. They\u2019re people who are real estate agents during the day and then by night think they can sing.\u201d<\/p>\n Sharon Millerchip and Jamie Oxenbould in 2010\u2019s Last of the Red Hot Lovers.<\/span>Credit: <\/span>Natalie Boog<\/cite><\/p>\n Like Oxenbould, Kilmurry \u2013 also artistic director at the Ensemble \u2013 has drawn on early experience in the amateur theatre world for Midnight Murder<\/em>. As a youngster he was cast among a group of amateurs in a play written by his mother, a talented TV writer.<\/p>\n \u201cIn one of my mum\u2019s plays, it went really badly wrong,\u201d he says. \u201cEverything went wrong on the night, but people said it was the best thing they\u2019d ever seen.\u201d<\/p>\n Despite that, he has retained great affection for the amateur theatre.<\/p>\n \u201cWe are in the business of theatre, so we treat it differently,\u201d he says. \u201cIt\u2019s our job. Whereas people who love it are in it for the idea of it rather than the doing of it. We do it to get paid. Amateur actors do it because they can say they\u2019re in Hello Dolly<\/em>. I love the fact there\u2019s an opportunity for everybody. What\u2019s maybe hard about it is when you\u2019re in the audience wishing there wasn\u2019t<\/em> an opportunity for everybody.\u201d <\/p>\n Not that professional theatre is immune from the Murphy\u2019s law of the stage. Oxenbould remembers starring in Neil Simon\u2019s Last of the Red Hot Lovers<\/em> in 2010 opposite Sharon Millerchip.<\/p>\n \u201cWe clashed heads on opening night. My tooth went into her forehead, she started bleeding. I got a fat lip and we just had to carry on. To us it looked like a catastrophe. I thought the whole audience was looking at me and going \u2018why don\u2019t you just stop?\u2019 But you come off stage and they go, oh no, we didn\u2019t even notice. What you notice on stage is completely out of proportion.\u201d<\/p>\n Then there\u2019s every actor\u2019s worst nightmare \u2013 \u201cdrying\u201d, or forgetting lines.<\/p>\n \u201cI blanked on To be, or not to be, that is the question \u2026 \u201d<\/em> says Kilmurry. \u201cAnd I thought \u2018it\u2019s something about being noble\u2019. Very good question. I looked at the audience and they were like, \u2018Oh, this is a new interpretation,\u2019 and they\u2019re leaning forward. I thought, I need to say something quite soon and just got half a sentence out, and then we\u2019re back on track. Now every time I want to do that most famous speech in theatre, my heart goes a little bit, I think, \u2018Don\u2019t f— it up\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n Beyond forgetting lines, the other great enemy of actors professional and amateur is contracting an irresistible case of the giggles. Kilmurry recalls a 1999 production of Cyrano de Bergerac<\/em> for Sydney Theatre Company.<\/p>\n \u201cI had to grab a piece of chicken \u2013 which was rubber, but it looked good \u2013 and throw it over the barricades, but it hit a beam and landed in the front row, in a lady\u2019s lap. And then all of us got hysterical and we had armour on. So it was all going chink. None of us could look at each other for about 20 minutes after.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/p>\n