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msmaev.bsky.social
Playwright with a day job.
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Watching 12 Angry Man for the first time, and one of the actors, his voice is so familiar, it’s driving me mad that I can’t place him (and it’s not Henry Fonda).

In the process of re-sealing my windows (for I am a lunatic) and discovered these apparent paint patches which, when scraped, turn brown and smell utterly vile. I am baffled. Is this some weird smoking remnant?

First time ever in the Drury Lane theatre (somehow) and I can’t believe how massive that stage is. It takes some serious Actor-Magique to fill it.

I found a (not cheap, but still) snack near the Royal Court. I feel like I’ve unlocked some theatre-goers achievement badge.

Of course I want to eat the unexpected pomegranate that turned up in my shop… But I remember enough Greek mythology to fear that it couldn’t possibly end well.

I have long thought that the…process of news-making is ripe for (non-cynical) dramatisation, so September 5 was basically tailor-made for me. But the white-knuckle, inside-a-catastrophe stress I felt while watching it reminded me of my own Tell It Slant in a way I didn’t expect.

Off to the Vanessa Bell exhibition in Milton Keynes. I’ve never been before - are there any Milton Keynes sights I shouldn’t miss? (Not a sarcastic request - in case anyone’s unclear on my tone).

This guy asked this question in 2016 and was literally never heard from again.

There should be a word for that feeling when a creative thought just kind of…floats in to your brain while you’re in the middle of doing something else (in my case, swimming). I bet German has a word for it.

Maybe watching a show about a playwright having a nervous breakdown in the middle of rehearsal and scaring all the actors wasn’t my wisest choice for entertainment this evening.

Perhaps I have an irredeemably practical mind - I am slowly making my way through Orbital, the constant musing monologues (approximately 90% of the novel) are a problem for me. Like - they’re astronauts. They have things to do that aren’t fauxlosophy.

Master and Commander is the perfect to watch when you’re home miserable with a cold. A classic of the Men Actually Being Nice to Each Other genre. The only criticism I have is that - unlike other films about the British Navy - there’s a real dearth of great knitwear.

How many of these jokes seem like they could be direct lifts from 90s British Theatre?

“I am not collaborating with the spirit world on a production of Macbeth.” Why can’t I get more theatre people to watch Slings and Arrows with me.

Oh the hollow laugh I laughed when the (fictional) theatre director talked about commissioning and producing a brand new play in six months. I think not my friend. I think the playwright is in for years of drafts and workshops and then “we think another theatre would be a better home for this play”

I came out of Nosferatu thinking “sometimes, a little sexual repression is a Good Thing.” I’m pretty sure that isn’t the intended effect.

I don’t know how I got to 2025 without ever seeing Galaxy Quest, but I finally have. I spent the last 90 minutes cackling with sheer glee. It is delightful. Sigourney Weaver shouting “the writer of this episode should DIE” is going to live in my head forever.

Got my Bruntwood entry in a hold hour and ten minutes before the deadline. I am assuming the inevitable rejection letter will be just as speedy.

Finally got the answer tonight to a decades old question of why two girls I went to school with didn’t like each other (it involved a boy and email hacking - in approximately 2001). I am alarmingly satisfied by this gossip.