Two productions with Lazarus in a row. That certainly wasn’t the plan. In Fringe we are not likely to make a lot of money. You have to know why you want to be involved in a production. Mr. Dukes talks about the muscularity and epic nature of the classics. I think about the eternal resonance of their thematic make-up. The crossing point of written narrative and physical exploration is the delicate tightrope that Lazarus confidently straddles. Essentially Fringe is a playground. We can make mistakes and experiment. Because ultimately there aren’t millions of pounds riding on filling a 500+ seat auditorium every day for ten years. We can do things the RSC, The Globe and the National only DREAM about. We can fail. Society has become very materialistic and expects polish. We have become obsessed with product not process. Post 2008 I think there has been a hegemonic shift towards process. People want to know what we’re doing, how we’re doing it and, perhaps most importantly, why? That’s easy for me. Shakespeare (and his contemporaries) is complicated and beautiful. As an actor at the dawn of his career it forces you to commit, to explore, to fuck it up. To think about love and death and intrigue. Its a work out, its hard work, bloody hard work and is only its own reward. If we sell out 750 people will have seen us. That’s it. Around half of those know us already. So maybe 375 people will see a given show wholly objectively. We’re not winning Oliviers or transferring or cashing cheques. So why bother? The play’s the thing.
Adam Cunis, Gratiano.