The Winner

Kate Betts

The Competition – why enter?
Sometimes you just have to go for something. That’s what I told myself. I had an idea for a play. Just an idea. And all they wanted was a synopsis, a list of characters and a sample of writing.  So I put together my documents exactly in the format they prescribed, and sent them to The Play’s The Thing. Then I forgot about it. Until, three months later, Channel 4 called to say I was shortlisted.

The Panel
My first task as a shortlisted contender was to ‘sell’ my idea to The Panel: Sonia Friedman, Mel Kenyon and Neil Pearson. It was a bit like an interview for a job. They asked some searching questions and I thought “Don’t bluff: these people are experts and can see through lies like glass”.

And then came the cameras…
I’m someone who ducks away when a camera comes out. It was weird at first to be shadowed by a camera crew. They came to my home, my work. They followed me down the street. (They became friends in the end.) Because they needed more than boring shots of hands hovering over keyboards, pencils being chewed.

Where was the drama?
This was a documentary about the writing of a play for the West End – from the first tentative pages of dialogue to opening night. Fortunately, nobody said writing is easy. To prove this, The Panel and Channel 4 produced an army of experts to help smooth the way. The ten finalists were whisked off to a four-day residential masterclass with Stephen Jeffreys (The Libertine). We tested our scripts with actors under professional direction. Some may say that this hothousing was artificial and didn’t reflect the real world of the new playwright. Maybe that’s true, but the writing of a play under the glare of the cameras was never going to be normal.

Playing Jesus
The shortlisted ten were whittled down to a final three: myself, Steve Gardner, and Iain Weatherby. Each of us was given a director to work with. I was incredibly lucky to have Steven Pimlott. His enthusiasm for my idea and his vast knowledge inspired the intellectual growth of Playing Jesus (the original title). He was my anchor in a growing sea of deadlines, re-writes, filming, and – let’s face it – stress. On the final day of the competition, excerpts of our plays were performed in front of The Panel for ‘Final Judgement’. Afterwards, we had an agonising wait for the Panel’s decision. That’s TV for you!

The announcement
I was sitting beside Steven when I was announced as the winner. I remember turning immediately to hug him. Then I focused on Sonia’s face. She wasn’t smiling. She said “There’s a lot of work to do.”

Fish out of water
I was the only amateur in a world of professionals. When rehearsals started a month later, I was afraid. I walked into the rehearsal room in awe of everyone – especially the actors. What if they thought the writing was crap? What would my role be in all of this? Naively I thought the script might need a few tweaks here and there. I wasn’t prepared for weeks of intense re-drafting.

The rehearsal room
When actors start moving, speaking, being your characters, it’s fantastic. I felt a mixture of elation (when scenes worked well) and inadequacy (when lines seemed clunky). Steven cast Paul Hilton, Maxine Peake and Tom MacKay in the main roles. The other actors, associate director, and stage management team completed a very tight family that was fiercely devoted to the play. The basement in which we rehearsed all day, every day, became an intense, creative space – that excluded everyone else. Even the Channel 4 cameras were banned at sensitive moments of rehearsal. The play really was the thing.

Terrible news
All through this, Steven had been our anchor and inspiration. But he became seriously ill and had to withdraw*. We missed him terribly. When I arrived at the first rehearsal to meet our new director, Robert Delamere, I was worried. By now I knew that there needs to be a strong and creative understanding between playwright and director. With trust and mutual respect. To my relief, we all found this with Robert Delamere in bucket loads. The play hurtled on under his expertise. Along the way I changed its title to On The Third Day.

Opening night
It’s every new playwright’s dream to experience an opening night. There was a huge build up to this one because of the publicity and the climax of the TV programme. I remember feeling an immense pride in the actors. And, sitting in the auditorium, I realised I’d learned three essential things:

• Be generous:  it’s your play, but it takes a team to realise its potential
• Be open to change: prepare to write fast if a scene isn’t working
• Hold your own: be responsible for your script, keep focussed.

And, later:

• Don’t read your reviews.

Reviews…
No matter how much I told myself not to worry about it, some comments did hurt. But then I’d see a good review and I’d get a fan letter from a complete stranger who loved the play. It’s best not to beat yourself up. I think it boils down to your own achievement and what you’ve learned from it.

Looking forward
It’s important to me to keep writing. I’m in the middle of research and hope to produce a first draft of a new play by the end of the year. I also have a radio play completed which is being considered by BBC Radio 4.

Writing for radio
I love the freedom and the challenge of writing for radio. There’s the freedom of space: you can move swiftly from the top of a mountain to a bed-sit in Birmingham without worrying about set. On the other hand, you are dealing entirely with sound, and an audience that needs to be captivated, not confused. The listener is always inches away from the ‘off’ button! The market for radio plays has always been dominated by BBC Radio 4, and this new competition The Radio Play’s The Thing is a wonderful reminder that Channel 4 Radio is a welcome and innovative new outlet for radio dramatists.

And to anyone out there who is feeling tentative about entering – I say go for it!

*Steven Pimlott died on 14 February after a battle with cancer. He was one of the most inspirational people I've ever met: he loved the theatre, he loved writers, he loved actors. And they all adored working with him. He was also a wonderful family man. While I was writing, he told me to read The Rose Tattoo. I was so pleased to hear that he was directing this play at the National Theatre as I knew it was one of his favourites, and I thought he must be okay. But he was doing what he loved most.
He's left behind a lot of people who love him.

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