Q&A

For my birthday, my lovely brothers presented me with tickets to a play, “Underneath the Lintel” – written by Glen Berger, directed by Maria Mileaf and starring an American actor called Richard Schiff.

American actors feature in London plays reasonably frequently, and depending on their level of notoriety their presence is trumpeted proudly in posters at tube stations and discussed reverently in the street press. This was my first experience of a show featuring someone I had heard of, and it just happened to be a member of the cast of one of my favourite shows. [‘Just happened..”, yeah, right]. I felt a bit sheepish about going to see a performance just for one actor, and so I downplayed the Richard Schiff factor when discussing the play beforehand. Then I arrived at the theatre to discover that it is, in fact, a one-man show. So much for nonchalance.

It was good! Toby Richard Schiff played a quiet, scruffy Dutch (oh yes, there was an accent) librarian who uncovers a mystery and sets about collecting clues. It was a somewhat trite in that to solve the mystery the Librarian goes on a Journey and has Important Insights about life, love, myth and an individual’s place in the world – but I liked it nonetheless. Mr Schiff’s character was endearing, funny and vulnerable, and he was so captivating throughout that I barely noticed there was no-one else on stage. I was entertained and even a wee bit moved.

As luck would have it, when we arrived at the theatre we discovered that thanks to a visiting group of drama students, a Q&A session would be held after the performance.

Now, I have mixed feelings about the Q&A. On the one hand, it’s interesting to see the real person behind the performances or meet the creator of the piece. On the other, however, people ask really freaking dumb questions and I spend most of the time writhing in agony in my seat. Still, I usually assume that it will be amusing and I’m always right.

The most hilarious Q&A I ever saw was at the Brisbane International Film Festival: a session hosted by David Stratton in which noted documentary maker Bob Connolly spoke about his (excellent) film Facing the Music. The questions were, for the most part, very good and I learned a great deal. And then there was this guy:

Very Eager Young Guy In Crowd: “Good evening, Mr Connolly. I’d like to ask you about your other new film, ‘The Bank’…” [The VEYGIC then proceeded to ask a question in several parts about that particular film.]

There was a thick silence. Mr Connolly paused, and exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Mr Stratton.

Bob Connolly: “Um, that’s an interesting question. However, I think you would be better off asking it of Robert Connolly, the feature film maker, who directed that particular film.”

Rest of Audience: HAHAHAHAHAHA.

The VEYGIC dropped dead with the embarrassment.

I was looking forward to tonight’s session, in a slightly geeky way. Too cool to admit openly that I was excited about seeing Toby in the flesh, I adopted what I hoped passed for an urbane sneer and looked forward to the stupidity to follow.

I was not disappointed on either front. Mr Schiff was reassuringly Toby-like, mumbling, chomping on a mint and fidgeting with his spectacles while looking a touch uncomfortable. He was self-effacing and charming and told some very good jokes.

But, oh, the questions. In the break, TPC and I hastily compiled a list with which to play Q&A Bingo: What made you decide to do the play? / How did you find the transition from a TV show to the stage? / How hard was it to do the accent? / How do you find London? and What’s next for you? We only got four out of five, which disappointed me as I had been looking forward to seeing TPC stand up and shout BINGO in the middle of the theatre.

There was the predictable discussion about the craft, and inhabiting the character, which the budding young actors lapped right on up. Mr Schiff was able to keep a straight face throughout, which I guess is understandable given that he does this for a living. He made some deliciously pandering comments about how English audiences just seem to get the play more than American audiences.

Most of the questions were not particularly memorable. Some of them weren’t even questions:

“If I may, I'd like to make an observation..." [jLo: Oh, please, go right ahead! I was hoping you’d tell me what you thought. It’s not like I’m here to listen to what the guy on stage has to say anyway.]

“Oh, Richard, you were just wonderful…” [Sigh. And your question is?]

“On behalf of the Americans in the audience, I’d just like to say that we most certainly DO get it… “ [We don’t care!]

Some folk were downright impolite. One girl identified herself as a journalism student [Again: we don’t care!] and asked snottily if he would please catalogue everything about that night’s performance that was different from the night before. Unsurprisingly, Mr Schiff was less than willing to comply. Then there was the girl who asked him if he believed in God and wouldn’t take a politely non-committal rebuff for an answer. She kept at him, insistently, until I was ready to go over and shout in her face. Hey, you there? IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS! Grr. People are rude.

Anyway, what TPC and I were really waiting around for was to see if anyone would ask a West Wing question. I had giddy visions of a Comic Book Guy-style geek somewhere in the audience (other than myself, of course) asking something insanely specific. “In Episode 4 of Season 2, you made a reference to…”, etc. That’s what I wanted. TPC and I had thrown around a few pisstake examples for our own amusement in the break, but there was no way in hell we were going to actually ask them. We waited in gleeful anticipation, but I quietly readied myself for disappointment, assuming that it wouldn’t actually happen.

Then it did.

Moderator: “You sir, the gentleman in the third row.”

Guy In Audience: “Thank you. Richard! First of all, I’d just like to congratulate you on a wonderful performance.”

Richard Schiff: “Thank you, that’s very kind.”

GIA: “Now, my question is this: can you tell everyone the university from which President Bartlet received his Masters degree?”

RS: “…”

jLo and TPC: BWAH HAH HAHH! [They high five]. Then, quietly to themselves:

TPC: "Actually, I know that."

jLo: "Nerd." [a pause]. "Um, so do I."

TPC: "Shoot us both. Now."

Meanwhile, back on stage:

GIA: "Come on, now!"

RS: “I’m very sorry, sir, I can’t remember."

GIA: “Well! I’m happy to help out: it was the London School of Economics!" [He was very fond of exclamation marks, it seemed] "Now! You might not be aware, but it’s actually just down the road from this theatre! There’s a group of us from the university here tonight. We’d like to invite you to the campus for a tour!”

Good god. He’d obviously been preparing that little gag all night. By this stage I had slipped down off my seat with all the cringing and also the laughing. Mr Schiff chuckled politely and kindly told them they could leave a card.

The moral of the story, I guess, should be that if I’m going to bitch about how stupid the questions are I should prepare some good ones of my own. Of course, I’m always tempted. But then I remember that guy at the BIFF and keep my mouth firmly shut.