Year of the Queen: The Making of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert - The Musical Read Online Free

this, Spencer and some dancers choreograph Simply Irresistible with Ross. The workshop feels like it’s stepped up a gear. People are scattered throughout the building working on scenes or songs, scripts are being edited and printed off. Scenes are nipped and tucked and then thrown out - or not. Songs are being sourced on line and sheet music chased down.
    We put Simply Irresistible into Felicia’s introduction scene. Then we block the scene into Go West , which brings the bus on. We use a taped version of the song by the Pet Shop Boys to choreograph to. Ross provides some basic choreography, and in what seems like no time at all we’ve got another five to ten minutes of the show. We’re now up to the scene where the drags leave Sydney. It’s dizzying how fast this process is moving. To finish the day we mock up the start of the show, where I mime I’ve Never Been To Me and continue through the rest of what we’ve put together. It’s shambolic and uncertain, but everyone has a real crack at it. There’s a feeling in the group that what we’re creating could really work.
    As the performance approaches, I begin to realize how many big wigs will be watching on the day. The thought crosses my mind tha should this show get up I would like to be in it. Would they use me or go with someone with a bigger profile? Regardless, I’m keen to do the best job I can and not drop my pants in front of a bunch of theatrical luminaries. I’m working hard at nailing this.
    I’ve started prioritizing what is important for putting together a decent performance for the showing. First thing is to get my nose out of the script. I can learn lines quite quickly, so I make sure I get the book down on each scene as we do it. The problem is that things change so quickly in a process like this. No sooner have you learnt a scene than it’s cut or changed somehow and you have to learn the new version, and then the new, new version.
    I decide to create a little choreography for myself for I’ve Never Been To Me , as when I first did it the first time I felt incredibly exposed and uncomfortable miming it. Why wouldn’t I? I’m standing in a huge rehearsal room with no wig, make-up or dress, miming a song as a woman. Ross is too busy to do it so I resolve to do it myself at home.
    Spud and Simon take me away to try out a song for the moment when Tick mourns never having been there for his son. The song we’ve come up with is Lullaby by Billy Joel. It’s a hauntingly beautiful song. I’d never heard it before, so I read the sheet music over Spud’s shoulder as he plays. My voice is rusty. I haven’t sung for two years, and I recognize this as something I really have to get together for the performance. I know if I sing this song well it could be a beautiful moment in the show.
    At home that night, I start going over lines, song lyrics, and choreographing I’ve Never Been To Me . The weekend is fast approaching and the show isn’t nearly finished. Each time we go back to the top of the show, it’s like we’ve never done it before. Parts of it are decent, but then we get to places where we’re all just running around like a bunch of headless chooks. Sometimes the run stops completely because we’re just laughing too much at how crap we are.
    Saturday, and we do a run of what we’ve done so far. We get as far as me singing Lullaby . I’ve worked on the song, but it’s still not there yet. I’m not even certain of the tune and I totally mangle it. As much as this is just a workshop, when something goes badly like that, you feel like the worst actor to ever walk the earth. I leave for the day hanging my head.
    It’s Monday, and the cast drag themselves in from the weekend. Simon clearly hasn’t rested and there’s a pile of new scripts being handed out. Half of the Tasmanian old growth forest is scattered around the room, and people scramble through piles of pages trying to sort out which is the latest version of the script. The race