Show and Stay are proud to announce that we have a NEW guest blogger! An insider’s look into life in the West End, the blog will bring you hints, tips and general good advice about breaking into show business. Discover how one struggling actor forged a successful career and how you can too. So, who’s the man behind the pen? None other than Lee Ormsby who plays ‘The Big Bopper’ in the hit musical Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story

Coming once a month to our blogsite, Lee’s entries will be a must-read for any budding actor, singer, dancer or just anyone who’s interested in how theatre works.

So what are you waiting for? Check out Big Bopper’s BIG Blog!

In the meantime, why not see the man in action? Here are a few clips of Mr Lee Ormsby performing:

Okay folks, here it is! The first in (hopefully) a long line of blogs covering all sorts of aspects of theatre life – from humble beginnings to drama schools, agents and finally surviving in a very competitive industry.
People are always asking questions about how to break into the business and all manner of other questions so instead of a simple Q & A blog, I thought I’d write from personal experience, detailing some of the joys and rejections I’ve encountered over the 27 years I’ve so far embraced the profession!
And so here we go…….

WHERE DO I START?

I have always advocated that drama school is an absolute necessity. Some may argue otherwise and some WILL have become successful without any formal training, but having experienced firsthand the difficulties of auditioning without “grounding” and knowing how tough and competitive the acting industry is, I firmly believe that Drama School will open up a lot of opportunities that you would otherwise miss.
I started acting as a child. I was 8 years old when I got a part as an orphan in a film set in World War II. It was the best experience ever and I knew (although my mother will testify that she knew earlier when as a toddler I used to keep ripping the curtains down to dress up and dance about) that I wanted to entertain.
I didn’t have the easiest time at school. It was not a dramatic institution and Drama was way down on the curriculum compared to sport and football which obsessed a large majority of the other boys of my age. I was 14 when I got one of the leads in a 7 part Children’s TV series. The great thing was the thrill and excitement of landing a plum role and all it involved. The downside was the backlash of having to take 4 months off school with a personal tutor. There was a great deal of resentment and sarcasm at every opportunity – and that was just the teachers! I never backed down and persevered until the day I walked down that school drive and out of the gates for the last time, almost as elated as getting any big role. People say that your schooldays are supposed to be the happiest days of your life but I won’t lie – as a would-be actor, mine were miserable! It’s ironic that years later, that one teacher that believed in me is now running the place and I get telephone calls regularly to appear as a guest of honour at prize giving evenings and awards ceremonies.
My later teens were a much happier affair. Sixth Form college was a breeze and the three years I spent there more than made up for the six miserable ones previous. I chose Drama, Music and English. The only dilemma I encountered there was which university to choose after I left. I did the whole UCAS thing and saw several universities, trailing across the country until I found somewhere I was happy.
Three years of Performing Arts flew by and, before I knew it, I was accepting my degree in cap and gown and saying goodbye to peers for the last time. The course had been great, although a lot more academic than I thought it would be. There were specialised dance classes and singing classes, but the course had a heavy written coursework element. Also, unlike drama schools where your three years’ work culminates in an agent showcase, it was up to us (the students) to invite agents personally to see final performances. Getting those agents there was a nightmare! Our class decided to invite agents collectively and produced a lovely glossy brochure which was mailed out to over 1500 agents, casting directors and producers in the hope we could convince them to come to our productions, see us and sign us up. In reality, only a handful of those invited made an appearance and out of the 28 in our class, only two had agents, both of which were already represented before they enrolled on the course. It was a bit depressing but didn’t seem like too big an obstacle at the time.
With two student loans and a massive overdraft, I made the mistake of agreeing to move out of the capital and back to my parents’ house in Bristol to get a job until auditions started coming in – mistake in the sense that any auditions tended to be in London so the cost of travelling was quite excessive. I also got a job which was hugely unsympathetic to me needing time off for auditions, although choosing to work in a well known record shop had the advantage, if any, of keeping me close to music.
I still didn’t have an agent but I DID have an Equity card and a copy of “Contacts” – the actor’s bible, so I trawled through and sent lots of letters with a photo. I received a lot of letters saying ‘thanks but no thanks’ mainly due to the fact I was too far away and I wasn’t in any production they could see me in.
About a month later, and lots more letters, I got a lead. A personal management agent asked to see me. I dressed to impress, and another £50 train fare saw me standing in a modern building off Piccadilly Circus in the most clinical office I’d ever seen. The agent wasn’t the friendliest person I’d ever met. He sat in a huge reclining leather chair studying me intently and cross questioned me for what felt like forever in my nervous state. When asked to, I found myself warbling unaccompanied to whatever showtune I could remember to show how well I could sing. He thanked me for my time but it came as no surprise when, two days later, I received another rejection letter.
I didn’t give up! I had solid friends, some of which were working professionals. One of them was working at the time in the Cameron Mackintosh show Martin Guerre and advised me to send a demo to the casting agent. I took his advice and went to a local recording studio to produce a three track demo, a copy of which was sent duly to Mr Mackintosh’s company. I was staggered when the very next day I got a telephone call asking me to audition for Miss Saigon.
This was it! The first big audition since leaving training!

I arrived at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane about half an hour early and was overwhelmed by the backstage area where about twenty boys were all flexing and warming up. Some were friendly, some were extremely aloof and others were so self obsessed with making sure everyone heard their audition songs that it was a little unnerving. I heard several versions of “Bring Him Home” and a few had been sent music from the show and could be heard belting it out in the toilet upstairs. It was surreal but I didn’t care. I had an audition! After checking in, we were all ushered through to the auditorium and out onto the stage. It was immense- the largest stage I had ever stood on and looking out at the darkened theatre and rows of empty seats was daunting. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time and I felt a mixture of elation and nerves – none of which was helped by seeing the panel sat in the stalls in one long row, passing photos and CVs up and down the table as they surveyed us. I felt like I was on death row and they were deciding who to execute first and then out rolled the resident choreographer; a cheerful but rigorously primed individual that threw us straight into the most complex dance routine I had ever encountered. She reeled off a list of dance terms and moves without a second thought and whilst some of the boys (clearly dancers) executed them with great aplomb others, like me, gave it their best but were clearly way out of their depth. I struggled on but by the end of the day and an exhausting workout, all those feelings of elation were replaced by depression. I knew I had blown it!
This was confirmed when two days later, after having heard nothing back, I phoned the casting director. I was told that my song was great and they loved my voice, but my dancing let me down. I knew that was coming! I spent the rest of the day at work mulling it over and what I should do next. I phoned my friend in Martin Guerre and he summed it up in one sentence- “Get out of that job, get out of Bristol and go to Drama school!”
Those words went over and over in my head for several weeks. I knew if anywhere, I wanted to go to Mountview Theatre School. I secretly ordered a prospectus and would read it slyly during dinner breaks and long periods of boredom working in a stockroom with invoices. I read about the intensity of the one year postgraduate course and all it entailed and realised that for all my training I wasn’t prepared enough for the cut throat industry I wanted to embrace. Sure I could sing and give any other singer a run for his money, and I could pick up any dance step – after a long time, but Musical Theatre is so much more than that. You have to be able to dance, or at least move with co-ordination to a high standard at a fast pace. You have to be able to pick up a routine at speed much like the “Saigon” experience and I’d shown on numerous counts that I couldn’t do that.
The turning point came on a very stormy day in July 1999. It was a very tedious day at work and the management were all on edge and in disagreeable moods due to a summer sale starting and a visit from the area manager. The customers we had that day were horrible and pressure was mounting from all areas. I took an early lunch and sat in the staff room still thinking about that prospectus. The deadline for applications was looming so without thinking I grabbed a sheet of paper and penned a resignation letter, handing it straight in and then filling in my audition form for Mountview. I still can’t believe I did it that way, but I realised that by resigning and losing all my financial security I had only 30 days to sort out what I was going to do with the next stage of my life. I walked out of that job that day happier than I had been since I left school.
Three days later my audition date came through…….

Some things are so good you can’t have them all year round. Cadburys® Creme Eggs, that christmas Coca Cola® advert and the british summer are all superb examples of this. All these things are strictly limited to make sure they stay extra-exciting on the rare occasions they are available to us.

Matthew Bourne’s Edward Scissorhands at Sadler’s Wells theatre is one of these very special things. A stunning modern ballet that effortlessly blends the seemingly incompatible worlds of classical dance and Tim Burton’s cult gothic fairytale, the show represents everything I feel theatre should be.

Burton’s incisive yet subtle social commentary remains intact as does the haunting theme music composed by Danny Elfman. The dark fable about a boy created by a lonely inventor who dies, leaving his beloved creation alone and unfinished with only scissors for hands, lends itself perfectly to Matthew Bourne’s modern choreography.

For those of you not familiar with Tim Burton’s distinctive gothic style take a look at some of (in my opinion) his best work, such as; The Nightmare Before Christmas, Beetlejuice, Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street and the disarming collection of seemingly childish poetry The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy.

As you may have noticed, Edward Scissorhands is a particular favourite of mine. It is something truly special that I intend to see as many times as my paycheque will allow. The show will run from 3rd December 2008 until 18th January 2009 so my window is limited, and cash will be low thanks to the inconvenience of having to buy christmas presents. I have a sneaking suspicion that more than one cousin will not be getting gifts this year….

When you think of culture what springs to mind? Ballet? A good symphony? Perhaps a nice evening of poetry and a well-aged Chablis? Ok, fair enough that last one is pretty much restricted to my fellow Show and Stay® writer, Nathan. How about Blackpool Tower lit up in pink, blue, orange and green? Did you think I was still joking? Alas no.

In an effort to showcase Britain’s glorious artistic and cultural heritage, Blackpool Tower is to be illuminated in the ill-advised colours of London 2012. This slightly dubious display is part of a 500 event programme which will apparently involve and inspire people here in Britain and abroad.

Details of this so-called ‘Cultural Olympiad’ were announced by Lord Coe at the National Theatre on Thursday. People across Britain can look forward to a open weekend later this month, for which hundreds of events have already been planned. Lord knows what lays in store. Perhaps they intend to paint the Millennium Dome in lurid colours, or maybe Tracy Emin is going to be let loose on Buckingham Palace.

Reportedly, £40 million has been set aside for these ‘cultural’ activities and only a few that have reached our collective ears here at Show and Stay® sound like they have any real merit. The proposed Shakespeare festival sounds vague but exciting and Stories of the World, a set of exhibitions across the country which promise to “tell new stories in new ways” really could end up spectacular, grotesquely pretentious or anywhere inbetween.

I’m more than happy to be proven wrong, but at a time when the county seems to be in financial freefall, spending £40 million on garish light displays and distinctly dodgy-sounding cultural events seems pointless, even a little offensive.

Well, for the past few weeks a fair portion of the media has been patently awash with rumours about possible transfers from the Edinburgh Festival to the capital. As the dandruffy dust of the Fringe finally starts to settle though, we can now announce what shows are actually booked in for a run in the West End.

First up is Matthew Bourne’s new adaptation of The Picture of Dorian Gray. Opening at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre yesterday, this version of Wilde’s classic novel is told exclusively through the medium of dance. I can hear a few of you scoffing at the back, so I’ll ask you to cut that out if you’ll please. In fact, Bourne’s version of Dorian Gray is the biggest-selling dance show in the history of the Edinburgh Festival… So, yeah; not so funny now is it?

Running until September 14th, Dorian Gray then goes on a brief national tour so look out for it then.

The second adaptation on offer is the Filter Theatre Company’s version of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. Now, we’ve got to be a little careful here because this show is billed as, and I quote: “an irreverent re-interpretation” of the bard. Please, stop me if I’m wrong but crowning a play an “irreverent re-interpretation” of Shakespeare makes me think that the whole thing is going to be utter bumdrizzle. The thought of doing any Shakespeare ‘irreverently’ conjures up images of the cast, stripped to the waist, writhing around in jelly and chanting the St Crispen’s Day Speech in text speak or something… gulp. In fact, I once went to see a version of an ‘irreverent’ Romeo and Juliet at The National which I believe had a bizarre little interlude that consisted of someone trying to ride an out-of-control animatronic elephant. Where as the actor was doing a sterling job pretending to be swung around in a desperate attempt to control this great lumbering machine, the ‘elephant’ insisted on defecating four or five times over the stage. Hilarious? Frightening? Disgusting? I have no idea what that was all about. In fact, now that I’ve said that out loud I’m not altogether sure it wasn’t a dream I had once… no, I’m convinced it did happen.

Anyway, this version of Twelfth Night comes steaming into the Tricycle Theatre where it runs until the 27th September. It’s supposed to be a fantazzy jazzy bop-down and pretty infectious to boot; so, hopefully there will be little room for Nelly the incontinent elephant to pack her proverbial trunk.

September 4th sees the opening of Joan Rivers: A Work in Progress by a Life in Progress. A huge success at the Fringe, the show will be playing at the New Leicester Square Theatre until the 18th and then returns for an eight week run over Christmas. This self-penned comedy is a glimpse into the personal life of one of the most popular performers of the last 40 years. Centring around the backstage area of an Oscar Award ceremony at which she was doing some presenting, the play is supposed to be funny and tragic in nigh on equal measure.

Not exactly an ‘adaptation’ I hear you bellow.

Still, what can you do? No one’s perfect…

Now, I know Ms Rivers is a popular performer but I’m afraid I’m going to have to remain unconvinced. I mean don’t you find that her act is like a cheap adaptation of a sickly 70s’ desert (a ha! Adaptation! I knew I could do it: three out of three). She’s like a trifle or a glass of flat Babycham or something-

OUTRAGED BYSTANDER: Here, what are you doing? You can’t have a pop at Joan Rivers; she’s an institution!

Indeed, so’s Broadmoor and they don’t let inmates there prattle on about when they used to co-host the Tonight Show in the mid 60s… Oh wait, in fact, they probably do. Still, they at least have the common courtesy to not allow them on television.

Joan Rivers: A Work in Progress by a Life in Progress has received a cluster of good reviews and is set to run in the capital from tomorrow. Keep your eyes open for that… Joan will be, but then she has awful trouble closing hers.

For me, one of the greatest pleasures of the theatre is a well designed costume. No matter how good the show, how dramatic the scene, if the make-up and costumes are not right it can let the whole performance down. Just imagine if the puppets of Avenue Q were moth-eaten and poorly maintained, if the nun’s habits in The Sound of Music were filthy and peppered with holes. London’s West End has some of the best costumes theatre has to offer, from the elegant period pieces of the RSC to the technicolour glory of Hairspray. We have selected 5 of our personal favourites here at the Show and Stay® offices for your enjoyment.

Number Five: Elphaba, Wicked.

A masterpiece of understatement, it would have been all too easy for the costume designers to go to town on the so-called “wicked witch”. Fortunately, they remained loyal to Gregory Maguire’s novel and created an impressive costume. Pointy hat, swishy cape and just the right shade of green. This costume really comes into its own during the rousing Defying Gravity.

Number Four: Trekkie Monster, Avenue Q

There was some debate as to whether this constitutes a costume or not. The final verdict was if it has two arm-holes then it’s a costume. Trekkie Monster gets extra points for being a costume AND a puppet, that’s value for money! Watch out for Trekkie during the hilarious The Internet is For Porn.

Number Three: Gollum, Lord of the Rings

An impressive combination of make-up and costume. Gollum was brought to life in the spectacular Lord of the Rings musical. In a cast featuring some of the best costumes the West End has ever seen, Gollum was a filthy, creepy little stroke of genius. If only he did some kind of jaunty dance he might have made number one.

Number Two: Giraffes, The Lion King

A West End classic. The Lion King’s elaborate costumes have been dazzling audiences for nine years. The giraffes use a clever combination of stilts, masks and truly convincing costumes to create an experience so close to the African savanna you’ll be reaching for your pith helmet in no time.

Number One: Galadriel, Lord of the Rings

A vision in glittering gold, Galadriel’s costume is, in our opinion, the most beautiful creation to appear on stage in recent years. This, ladies and gents is the kind of costume that appears for sale at a swanky auction in 10 years time with the kind of price tag only footballers and Russians can read without choking.

Well there we have it, our honest (perhaps slightly controversial) top five West End costumes. Perhaps you don'’t think Trekkie Monster counts, perhaps you feel we missed someone out? Use the comments box, let us know your top five.