I was quite difficult to cast as a young actor. Too quirky to be given anything like a juvenile lead in a Shakespeare, or even a contemporary play. At least, that’s the way I rationalised the trajectory of my working life. What that analysis missed out on was my chronic insecurity, based at least in part on a feeling that my lack of formal acting training was always going to hold me back. Confidence is central to a performer: however unsure they may be in life, onstage they have to commit totally to what they are doing without any sign of self-doubt. An audience will sniff out the faintest whiff of worry in an actor, which will result in a feeling of discomfort in the audience itself.
Being well-cast in a role takes away at least some of this sort of anxiety. In Awake and Sing! I had one of those rare parts which completely suited me, which is why director Anthony Cornish had cast me. I knew instinctively who the mousey Sam Feinschreiber was. He only appeared in a couple of scenes, but he was written to steal them. He was a wonderful opportunity for me.
The play was an idealistic work from the 1930s by American playwright Clifford Odets, trademarked by his sharp, poetic dialogue. My colleagues were a lovely bunch, including Lionel Haft, Helen Kluger, Kerry Shale, and the venerable Harold Kasket. Best of all was June Barrie, redoubtable as a powerhouse matriarch. I was lucky to have the chance to work with June several times. She had no personal ambition to be known beyond Bristol, which puzzled those of us who thought she possessed a gigantic talent. But June knew best. Her decision, based in part on her family situation, in part on her politics, is something I understand much more clearly now. I admire her greatly for having stuck to her guns.
