Hey thesps, what are you hiding in your rumbuctious extrovertism? No-one is that unnervingly jolly.

Don’t get me wrong, I love being spoken to as if I am suffering from extreme deafness. Coming away from a conversation, quite probably suffering from tinitus is completely worth being subjected to the most perfect deployment of emphasis and pitch ever known in the history of linguistics.

Thesps- you know when you go into lifts, and there is a recommendation about how many people can fit in the lift plastered on a sticker on the wall? Well, do you have to half this number to account for the surface area that you take up with your movements? How long have you been acting as gases, diffusing throughout a room to fill every single space, arms flailing in rampant gesticulation?

What do your friends from home think when you change your profile picture to an arty and edgy shot, edited by the only person in your ‘production team’ who could persuade their parents to stump up for photoshop? Do they know what TT/WEEK 6/ BT/ PILCH etc. means? Or are the likes liking at you not with you?

Speaking of which have you always been like this? The drama department in my school did not have all the pomp and circumstance that you seem to demand. I can’t imagine other educational establishments – let a group of edgily clad teenagers -take themselves so seriously.

Burton-Taylor

Innocuous building? Or proxy for actor’s self- esteem?

A schema therapist I read recently argues that there are three main ways in which people deal with their own sense of defectiveness and failure. One of these is counterattack- forcing your personality and self-worth down the throats of anyone who crosses your path to prove to yourself, you are worthy of love.

Is drama just the most grandoise brand of counterattack?

I’ll tone down the VERSA brand of snark which we are forced to inject a rusty 5ml needle full of into our veins at our weekly meetings, so I can something positive. A lot of the stuff put on is great, and cheap. I am not attacking your art, dear thesps, but the manner in which you present yourself when not on stage.

I’m sure I’ll see you in Cellar, celebrating a sell out performance reviewed glowingly by a staff writer at the Cherwell soon. Until then…

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This article has 2 comments

  1. Does spelling various words wrong constitute satire?

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