This House

Several years ago I was working as Deputy Stage Manager in a theatre where I cued the performance from a position within the auditorium. I was basically sat within the audience, which gave me a clear view of the stage and also of all my fellow punters. For some reason I found this fairly nerve wracking at the beginning, and dealing with unexpected situations whilst buried within the theatregoers was strange and unsettling. But after a while I relaxed into it and realised that people-watching during the slow bits was actually rather fun.

One day about five minutes into a Spring matinee, I saw a shaft of harsh light suddenly streak across the stage. It got the attention of myself and the cast and the half-sold auditorium. And it didn’t take long for me to realise that a Fire Exit had somehow been forced open, and that five teenage boys had entered the theatre. There was no way that they were ticket holders and so I was immediately tense. Would they go onstage? Disrupt the performance? Find a route around to the dressing rooms and rob the whole company? It was confusing and a little distracting, but the play continued, and so myself and several ushers just watched the boys to try to work out what their plan was.

I have no idea if they had heard anything about the production or if they were simply opportunists who had decided to try and access the building on a casual Wednesday afternoon whim. But whatever it was, they found five empty seats (which wasn’t hard), sat down and turned their attention to the ninety minute piece which was being performed in front of them.

After ten minutes they still hadn’t moved, and attempting to get a member of Front of House to remove them would have been incredibly disruptive. So we did nothing. And they did nothing. They didn’t seem to want to cause trouble, and as I continued to keep an eye on them I was pleased to see that they were just responding as the rest of the audience was; laughing at the jokes and gasping at the plot twists and seemingly having a pretty good time. They clapped heartily throughout the curtain call and then simply exited via the Fire Door through which they had entered. I never got to talk to them and I still don’t know why they did it. The result of the whole episode was that the Fire Door got fixed and a group of lads saw a matinee for free which was half empty anyway. Okay, so it was a bit distracting and they saw a play without paying. But I didn’t feel any malice towards them. And as I wrote about them in the show report I mostly just thought about how much they seemed to have enjoyed their experience and how little harm was actually done.

They were surprisingly respectful.

And myself and the cast respected that.

I was reminded of this episode when I noticed a video being shared widely on social media.

‘MY FRIEND NEARLY DIED!!!!’

Usually I’m fairly allergic to click-baity bullshit videos. Maybe I’m a sad old woman but I can’t abide the strange narcissism which accompanies Facebook Live, and I am baffled by the Youtube generation where people are famous for everything yet simultaneously nothing. But I clicked on this one as I was under the impression it took place at the National Theatre and OBVIOUSLY that was something that interested me, what with being a total theatre nerd and all.

And then what took place over the next fifteen minutes provoked such an uncharacteristically odd mixture of reactions that I wanted to open the laptop and self-indulgently inflict my muddled thoughts onto the internet.

So here goes.

The video starts with these two young guys managing to gain access to the National Theatre via an open door on the roof. Obviously this has prompted the National Theatre to review their security measures in light of recent terrorist activity. That is a subject which is a little too complex for me to tackle right now, and I'm also not discussing the security guard. So lets just shelve the whole terrorist/security argument for the time being and concentrate on the lads and their own intentions. 

Once inside the building they find their way to the Olivier Stage, and what immediately happens is sweet and strangely compelling.

‘Oh my god! Are you seeing what I’m seeing? This looks fucking SICK, bro.’

And of course they’re right. They are looking down on to the Olivier floor and then panning up above it. I have lain down on the stage of many a theatre simply to gaze up into various fly floors and be struck by the complexities and parallel lines and pure fucking physics which means that several tonnes of set and cloths and lights can be suspended right above your head. And the shot from the narrow balcony where they are filming from is pretty breathtaking. How often do we get the opportunity to see the actual nuts and bolts of just what holds a production as ambitious as ‘Follies’ together? The fact that it isn’t a fancy, professional marketing video makes it even more fascinating. It’s hard not to feel slightly envious of them and admire their appreciation for the equipment and the atmosphere and the striking aesthetic of a backstage environment.

They then get out onto the roof and we see a shot of the London skyline in all of it’s fabulous and shining glory.

‘An incredible view!’ they exclaim.

The view is indeed spectacular and it’s encouraging to see these kids so engaged with something as stunning and yet so simple. For a brief moment I got a little swept up in the adventure of it all and started to champion these guys, these plucky little ruffians. Their enthusiasm and curiosity is infectious and buoyant and I breathlessly wondered just what we would see next.

So they get off the roof and go back into the theatre.

And then it all begins to go horribly wrong.

The two lads begin to clamber around the rig and over the bridges, often both on one bar simultaneously, and the view of the drop down to the stage started to make me feel very uncomfortable. My understanding of lighting rigs and set construction is pretty poor, but I know that a lot of thought and consideration go into how much weight can go onto each individual bar. And the dramatic consequences if the weight is then unbalanced. I was also struck by how their limited theatrical knowledge meant they weren’t exactly clear on what they were walking on. For example, if one of them had moved a safety chain, would they be aware of the danger they were putting staff and company members in?

And also, what about the bloody focus? When I watched the video I tried to imagine I was a member of the ‘Follies’ lighting department, and just how enraging it would be to witness someone literally walk all over your work.

Then things take an even darker turn. The guys start to descend down several floors by way of the railings. The shots are fairly stomach churning, as the drop to the concrete floor is a long one. One of them clambers down to the next floor below and grips onto a bar. But the bar slides and slightly swings him out over the drop.

It’s a truly horrid moment and the shake in Ally Law’s voice confirms that this is an unexpected event and they are both aware of the fatal accident that almost just occurred. The bar is not connected to anything and Harry almost falls four floors to his untimely death. Ally is clearly unnerved but is soon joking about the situation.

‘This place is dangerous, man!’

Oh piss off, you fuzzy chinned twerp.

The amount of planning, effort and administration which goes into keeping that building (or any theatre building) safe is phenomenal. And the disrespect that these guys show for it is maddening. If Harry had fallen, only to be split in two on the solid and sudden floor below, I can’t even begin to imagine the effect that would have. As a parent I now obviously view everyone as someone’s baby. But in addition to the loss of human life I can’t help but think about the effect a tragedy like that would have on the mental well being of the staff at the NT. Having a young innocent slip and fall from a loose bar in your building would be absolutely devastating, regardless of the fact that it would be down to the boy’s own foolishness.

Ally does have the grace to admit that they ‘shouldn’t be climbing down the fucking side’ anyway, Which is true. But my patience and admiration for these guys was swiftly running out. However, some of the footage they were getting was still fairly riveting, so I found it hard to switch it off.

They make their way down to the stage itself.

And it’s absolutely beautiful.

Being able to look out into an empty auditorium from the deserted Olivier stage is a rare opportunity. And I would like to think that Ally and Harry appreciate this. At least they seem to.

And it’s round about here that I start to guiltily enjoy the film again, and get fascinated by the cheerful arrogance of a boy performing parkour on a world renowned stage, when he carelessly diced with death just moments before.  

The two then discover they have been plunged into darkness and are now locked within the building. They find a set of tabs to sleep on (anyone who has ever genuinely had to sleep in a theatre won’t have been that impressed) and the next day they leave the building just before ten, although it transpires that this is not as easy as entering. Gates have been secured overnight and they need to find an alternative route that involves a drop in order to leave. On their way out they babble on about merchandise and how to buy posters and calendars and how to win a Go-Pro and then they’re gone. And it’s done.

They didn’t steal anything. They didn’t graffiti on anything or purposefully damage anything. And they seemed to be genuinely impressed with what they saw.

Yet the way they went about it felt a million miles away from those five teenage boys who forced their way into a theatre to watch a play.

For so many of us a backstage area is such a sacred environment. We clean it. We organise it. We spend our lunchtimes and dinner times in it. We do painstakingly detailed shout checks in order to prepare it. And we will spend quiet periods of performances arranging it for the following day.

Nobody expects anyone not involved within the production to trespass on it or move costumes or dangle from bars. And nobody expects anyone to then take their slightly disturbing experience and share it so widely on the internet. Their ability to simply use the National as a way of getting more hits and likes and comments is sadly casual and disrespectful.

In some ways I am glad that they accessed a building which should be so accessible to all. I’m glad that they witnessed the backstage of the National Theatre in all it’s historical glory. And looking at the 300,000 hits that it’s clocking up, it’s good to see that many other people are getting to see just how brilliant it is too.

I just wish, that like those other boys, they had done it with a little more respect.














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