The Many Flavours of Suburban Theatre

I'm making a lot of calls and sending more than the usual billion emails this week, trying to secure venues for BULLET: A Superhero Comedy. We're going to tour the show to outer-city suburbs like Melton, Cranbourne and Whittlesea. The differences in expectations and interaction are interestingly varied.

The joyful calls are when the venue manager gets very excited about the project. The idea of a show for youth, where otherwise there is none, really gets them revved up. An original idea (not a re-staging of a licensed show) that started in the city but is delighted to come out to the 'burbs gets these venue managers going on how much more they'd love to see out their way. They love the cultural injection, the family friendly nature of the show, and how easy our show is to run. They're all too happy to make accommodations for our ticketing system (trybooking.com) and their venue prices are reasonable. They're also happy to have a hire! These managers are warm, encouraging and really care about giving their community events to enjoy.

Then there's the 'insiders only' groups. They see anyone beyond their shire or council as outsiders. It's an odd kind of reluctance, or more an indifference to what we're doing. All venues in the area are booked up by local amateur theatre groups, no, sorry, there's no leeway to squeeze in between rehearsals. The managers aren't interested in giving me alternative locations, and the Events and Facilities co-ordinators in the councils find my enquiries a tiring hassle. Probably the worst offenders in these groups are the ones that simply don't return my calls. I give up on these areas with a sour taste in my mouth.

Third are the prohibitively expensive, charging over $1000 for a 100-200 seat venue with minimum use times of 4-8 hours. These places are flat out unfeasible, usually none too keen to negotiate, and in some cases, snobby. They must be getting regular concert or high-end productions and don't need our little radio play. I hope so, otherwise that's a lot of expensive, empty space.

Last are the really sweet, lovely people and places who just can't accommodate our needs or costs for perfectly legitimate reasons, like, "Our chairs are erected by a nice old man who has to be paid more than you can afford" or "Oh, we don't have a PA system, you'd need to bring your own."

It's a strange and varied mix out there. Costs range from $50 per hour to $2000 with a minimum of 8 hours only. Some demand we use and pay their front of house, an usher, a stage manager and a techie, each with a minimum 4 hour call, with $5 per ticket going to their booking fees. Some ask only for a techie. Some just ask for a bond and that you don't smash the windows. Some of the managers are great people, happy to chat and keen to have original, interesting theatre. Some couldn't give a toss and find the whole concept of a phone conversation the most gall inducing thing they've ever encountered.

Good luck out there, Producers! If you find a good venue, stick with them.

I'm Back, Baby! A BULLET Recap.

Oh man.

Time has passed! Bullet was a roaring success for the week it was on. My producing partner Sean Fabri and I were pleased on many fronts, but key was how many goals we accomplished with this bitch.

We wanted:
-to make a story that was entertaining and funny.
-bums on seats.
-to showcase cartoonish voice talent.
-a publicity campaign that showed we weren't head-in-the-clouds creators.
-to give a talented director a chance to show it.
-to write something good, that you could tell had effort put into.
We did those things. Three sold out nights, 75% fill, glowing reviews and requests for cast to do further voice work. The reviews stated that the writing was tight. The cast were all so good, it was simple personal preference as to who stood out. The direction was deliberate, focussing on the cast and the sound, and people noticed.

We ran a tight ship.
I got to showrun.

Bullet was our opportunity to put into action in the creative world, theory we've been discussing and applying in the corporate world. Even though this was a theatre piece, I wanted to treat Bullet with the US TV showrunner model. The writers set the vision for the piece. The director translated that, added to it, and brought it to full strength through his cast and crew. The writers were the producers, and they sat in on audio creation, gave notes after key rehearsals (while making sure never to meddle beyond maintaining vision) and we all trusted one another. Our publicist, Lisa Purnell, wasn't some afterthought addition. She addressed the cast and gave media tutorials on our key messages. Lisa was crucial to the design and face of the show and its marketing campaign, designing a lot of it herself and overseeing the competition to create more advanced artwork. It paid off with a sold out opening night. Considering no-one had really heard of us as a team in the theatre world, that was incredible.

I'm glad we met our goals, because this is just the beginning. We established a framework that easily adapts to larger projects, and is ready-made to accept commercial input and growth. We can show brands the audience we're already reaching via our carefully maintained visitor metrics. (We reached thousands of 25-35 year old males as our primary audience). We can not only bring in audiences, but give them what they want and have them leave satisfied.

We met our commercial goals, and that excites me as a producer.
Creatively, we built a workplace that fed our cast and crew's desire for professionalism within a fun industry. Funfessionalism. Our director, Ben McEwing, established early on that he expected dedication and work. In auditions, we weren't just looking for talent, we were looking for workmates we could get along with. Anyone who might cause unnecessary friction most likely didn't get the role. If a friend auditioned, they were run through the gauntlet like anyone else. We all weren't paid much, but what Ben did offer the cast was a chance to work at a professional level that required they bring it. All this was planned, discussed among the director and producers long before we put out the call for cast. We want it spread that a set or rehearsal room with our team is somewhere you want to be if you want to take your skills up a level.

With this success, we know who's good and can now get real money to pay them all. That's the next level for us: to provide this service called Show to paying customers, be it audience or brands or business.

This was some professional shit! Thanks for coming to see it, those who did. For those who missed it, don't worry: we're already in the war room planning the next run.