Being Beastly.


When my wife mentioned she might go to an event at North Herts College today, she inadvertently triggered a flashback to a horrific acting exercise I once took part in on the premises.

Before I went to drama school, I did a BTEC in Performing Arts at North Herts. It was a great way to dip my toe into being an actor: an image that makes little-to-no sense. I was released from the restraints of an unpleasant secondary school experience; I felt like an adult, or a bad-haired, slightly acned representation of one at least.

While my college years mostly bring back happy memories, one class left an unpleasant indelible mark in my head: a workshop called The Watering Hole. In it, we had to find a space, choose an African animal and think about how it moves. We were told to imagine we were our animal in an enclosure at a zoo, and behave accordingly; I opted for a lion, so I could pretend to be asleep. Taking the easy way out probably affected the fluidity of every characterisation I’ve done since.

Then came the horrific bit. The class split in two, with one half improvising interacting as our chosen species at the watering hole, while the other half watched from a balcony. This went on for the best - or worst - part of twenty minutes. Of the many times I’ve felt like an arse, this was one of the arsiest. Andy Serkis needn’t step down just yet.

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