Radio, remember Radio
We used to turn the dial
And use our imagination
[…]
To hear the past and smile again
Radio, I miss you so-di-oh-vo-di-oh-vo-di-oh-do
Radio, I miss you so
If there was one – of many – reasons that I keep coming back to the flagship, it’s for the dinner theatre. It’s just not offered anywhere else, it’s exclusive to the grand voyages and every season the script is different. Especially this year…
You see, before this, we have always held a Murder Mystery (4 different ones every season actually), but they were the brain child of the previous Cruise Director, and when he moved on he took the scripts – which were copyrighted – and the concept with him. Leaving us with having to come up with another idea. So the new CD, faced with the idea of having to put his own spin on a seasons’ old tradition – came up with the idea of the Radio Show Dinner. Early last month, when the World Voyage first started (literally the first or second day) I walked by the CD’s table in the Lido only to be stopped before I’d taken more than a few steps
Yo, Shaughnessy, I want to slot you in for a pretty big role in the Radio Dinner Show…you interested?
Er…yeah, of course.
None of us were sure what to expect when rehearsals actually started, but as it turned out, the CD had penned an absolutely brilliant (albeit slightly ridiculous in places) comedic spoof of a bygone era, just funny enough to keep people in stitches, and just nostalgic enough to tug on the right heartstrings. We were utterly cracking up in rehearsals, and it wasn’t until our tech rehearsal the night before last that we were able to get through the whole thing with even close to a straight face. And then lo, it was curtain time.
With only an hour to get ready (which is not much, seriously), it was a bit of a rush to shimmy into my yellow and black cocktail outfit (I was playing a honey bee…don’t ask), and get the curls set in my hair, thankfully in my random formal night experiments over the last year I’ve stumbled on a style that looked suitably ‘40s but didn’t require a great deal of time. Then it was just a matter of sitting backstage and chewing my fingernails.
‘Cause you see, there was one other aspect of all this that had me – unsurprisingly for those who know me well or even slightly – nervous to the point of shaking. Weeks ago, the CD casually said to me in his office that he wanted me to sing
Something loungey, something that fits the era…
So I picked my song, got the music, and waited patiently to be told what to do. But despite years in the industry my stage fright still gets the better of me. Once I get up there? Totally different story, but in the hours before? I can barely even think.
Thankfully, one of the nice things about this format instead of the old one is that we actually don’t have to interact with the guests during the show. Previous to this – for the old Murder Mysteries – we’d have to sit at the table in character throughout the evening, but since this is meant to be a radio show, we didn’t have to do any such thing. Instead, we were granted use of the back dining room of the speciality restaurant – which they closed off from the public area – in between acts, so we could eat in a relaxed atmosphere and discuss how things were going, which jokes needed to be tightened, which lines got skipped etc etc. In short, we had a backstage; we had a backstage with really really good food and free wine.
Which, for the first twenty minutes of the evening until after my solo was over, I barely touched.
Shaughnessy, you’ll do fine, have your wine, it’ll help…
I don’t drink before I sing. Ever. Trust me, I’ll have it afterwards…
Once my solo was over (and went well, I’m told), and my stomach unclenched – which was just before the main course – I was able to actually relax and enjoy the rest of the evening.
In truth, I haven’t had that much fun at any kind of performance in a very long time. Perhaps it’s because we know each other so well by now that things just run easily, or perhaps it’s because deep down we all knew we desperately needed a laugh. It’s hard to say. And yes, things went wrong, lines got trampled, we even had one wardrobe malfunction, but it all just got rolled into the spirit of the show….
Either way, the audience lapped it up, and word of the evening’s success has spread like wildfire throughout the ship.
And we, quietly, toast our success, switch the radio off until April, and congratulate ourselves on a job well done.
Everybody knows that everybody dies… ~ River Song, Doctor Who
