The Old Diocesan Issue 13 - Magazine - Page 34
MUSIC & ENTERTAINMENT
How did you get the Mamma Mia!
part? Did you audition overseas?
The Showtime team contacted
me in Canada. I initially thought
it would be too much travelling,
and I didn’t want to be away from
my family for that long. But once
I figured out that I could see my
South African family and fly my
boys back here for a holiday, and
when the stars aligned – the State
Theatre in Pretoria wanted to
produce The Unlikely Secret Agent
– I realised I could make it work.
The audition wasn’t in-person.
What’s irrevocably changed in this
industry, since Covid, is that you
do most of your auditions virtually.
Using a cellphone, you record two
audition songs with a live pianist or
a backing track, you get someone
to read your two scenes with you,
then you edit it all on the phone
and send it into the ether for
someone to look at. It’s moments
like that when you realise how
connected our world is.
In my roles, I’ve always enjoyed
moving from one extreme to the
other. Having just completed
The Unlikely Secret Agent, which is
(in parts) quite hard-hitting and
harrowing, Mamma Mia! will be
the opposite: a lot of fun. I used
to sing in earlier days in my career
but haven’t done so in a while.
I’m looking forward to exercising
those muscles again! I do make
choreographers despair: I have
15 left feet, and this show is very
much a choreographed musical…
Paul with sons Josh and Oli, after a University of British Columbia vs Capilano
rugby match in Vancouver. Paul wears the blazer of the over-45s Snowcaps;
Josh, who was recently selected for his second year in the Canada U20s side,
is in UBC colours; and Oli wears his Capilano RFC shirt.
the world. Amra-Faye Wright
was the Velma in Chicago, and is
a consummate professional, as
are the other leads. There are six
of us “senior” performers. I’ll have
to bring my A-game to keep up.
So yes, I am feeling stretched!
It’s such a privilege, though,
to be in a world-class production,
singing with an orchestra, playing
to packed houses. It’s an adrenaline
rush that’s difficult to explain and
comprehend. I’ve heard it said that
when an actor goes on stage, the
level of adrenaline moving through
their body is the same as when
you’re in a car crash. Having done
both, I can tell you that I’m far
calmer in a car crash than going
up on stage! But that’s why we do
it: those butterflies in the stomach,
that trembling in the legs – it’s the
most addictive drug there is.
Do you have time for hobbies?
Do you feel stretched by taking
part in a musical like this?
I’m sharing the stage with some
of the top musical performers in
Because I love my job, it’s all part
of the same – my passion is also
my work. But I love going to the
theatre, watching films, reading.
“I’m far calmer in a car crash than going up on
stage. But that’s why we do it: those butterflies
in the stomach, that trembling in the legs – it’s
the most addictive drug there is.”
30 | THE OLD DIOCESAN
And I enjoy sports. Both of my
boys play rugby, and I’ve coached
the U18 team at Capilano RFC,
where I also play for the Snowcaps
over-45s veterans, delivering
profoundly slow service from
the base of the scrum, as is my
deeply middle-aged privilege.
When I come back from Canada,
I swap a snowboard for a surfboard.
I love surfing – and there are few
opportunities over there.
Any new projects pencilled in?
The Unlikely Secret Agent has been
going for five years now, and we’ll
keep telling that story as long as
there are people who want to hear
it. It played successfully in London,
and there’s some talk of taking it
to other countries. But in addition
to that, actually, yes – I’ve been
writing a play about Sailor Malan,
the South African fighter pilot and
Battle of Britain flying ace in World
War II. As the leader of the Torch
Commando, sponsored in secret
by Harry Oppenheimer, he fought
against the rise of apartheid in
South Africa after the war. It’s
a fascinating story that I’ve been
wanting to adapt for the stage for
a long time. I’m currently kneedeep in the far less interesting
– but nevertheless essential –
process of raising funds.
