Next week Michael Morpurgo fans won’t know what to do with themselves with Joey continuing to happily trot away in War Horse at the New London theatre and Tommo Peaceful, the main character in Morpurgo’s hugely popular book Private Peaceful, arriving at the Theatre Royal Haymarket for a two week season.
Playing the role of the First World War solider awaiting the firing squad at dawn is not one but two actors, Paul Chequer and Mark Quartley, who will take it in turns to take to the Haymarket’s iconic stage to perform theacclaimed one-man family show.
We asked them about what it’s like to be on stage solo and their memories of childhood, discovering dressing room banter can be a bit on the thin side when you’re on your own and how a Robert Lepage Shakespeare was an unlikely debut theatre trip for one of the pair. Plus, we heard about an altogether more worrying obsession with coffee and cutting other people’s hair…
Why should people come and see Private Peaceful?
Chequer: It’s a great chance to see one of the best and most popular stories for young adults ever written brought to life on the stage. The story is so inspiring and the way it’s written makes it perfect for the theatre.
Quartley: First and foremost, it’s an extraordinary story which, although fictional, is steeped in reality and [tells of] the effect of the First World War on a young man from rural Devon. I also hope that it’s an engaging and unique night at the theatre; watching a single character recount his life with little more than his and the audience’s imaginations.
What is it like sharing a role?
Chequer: We’ll be rehearsing independently and never performing together so I don’t think it will make much difference to either of us. If anything I can only imagine it will make the experience more interesting and enjoyable. That hasn’t stopped the competitive banter though. Obviously I’m the hotter ticket!
Quartley: I hope Paul and I will be a source of support for one another – it can be a bit lonely performing on your own – and I’ve warned him that if I stub my toe he’s going on.
Why was it decided that the role would need to be performed by two people?
Chequer: From a practical perspective you need an understudy for a one man show and finding an actor of the right calibre who’s prepared to learn and rehearse one and half hours of material without a realistic chance of ever performing it would be impossible. So it makes sense to share the role and we can cover each other if either of us goes sick with nerves.
Quartley: I’m not sure – it’s quite a hefty show to perform eight times a week. On a practical note we can cover each other too.
Will you watch and take inspiration from each other’s performances?
Chequer: We will see each other perform during technical rehearsal but I probably won’t watch Mark do the show until the final performance. Having done the show before I know I get very attached to all the characters and to my own imagining of the story, and I don’t think it would be helpful for me to see someone else’s version of that.
Quartley: Probably not. I’ll wait and see, but it’s such a personal piece – and I know Paul and I will do it very differently – so it may not help to watch him. Then again, I’m not too precious about that so we’ll see.
Do you find it hard to perform such a sad story every night?
Chequer: It’s the emotional impact of the story that makes it such a joy to perform. Although ultimately it’s a tragic ending, the emotional range within the story is vast and there are moments of great joy, love, guilt, yearning, grief, bravery etc. It’s hard in the sense that you are drained afterwards, but that is what you want as an actor. It’s a fantastic feeling to know you’ve given everything.
Quartley: Yes. It’s not open heart surgery but if you really put yourself there, it does get to you. Of course, what makes this particularly heart-rending is that Tommo Peaceful is just one of thousands and thousands of young men who signed up in the 1910s, left for France with their pals and presumed the war would be over by Christmas.
Is it hard to learn all the lines in a one-man show?
Chequer: Yes. The hardest thing about it is that as you get to the end of learning it, it takes at least an hour to do a line run. I can normally only focus on any one thing for three minutes at a time. Learning that much of anything is just boring.
Quartley: Oh yes. I have some very kind friends who have tested me. Not having cues doesn’t help! You have to break up the text into manageable chunks. It became much easier once I’d got to know the characters in the story better.
Do you miss having people on stage with you or is it more exhilarating?
Chequer: Being completely responsible and in control of everything that happens is very liberating and I love the intimacy of telling stories direct to the audience. So definitely more exhilarating. The only point at which I miss another actor is after the show. The conversation in the dressing room is dire.
Quartley: Both. There’s something reassuring about having other actors to bounce off, but equally there’s a thrill to being able to command the space and the audience’s attention on your own – a bit like doing a Shakespeare soliloquy, only for an hour and a half!
What first sparked your interest in performing?
Chequer: The buzz from my first school play, and realising there was something in this world I could do well.
Quartley: I don’t remember one particular moment. I loved school plays and I owe a lot to the National Youth Music Theatre for developing the confidence that I could maybe do it professionally.
What was your favourite book when you were a child and why?
Chequer: I loved Roald Dahl. Just crazy, anarchic nonsense. Brilliant.
Quartley: My grandmother used to have all the Le Petit Nicholas books and I remember loving them. The illustrations were brilliant, I enjoyed the French and it was about a kid messing around at school.
Did you go to the theatre when you were young and if so, what was the best thing you can remember seeing?
Chequer: I saw Robert Lepage’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Nation Theatre when I was a student and remember thinking ‘that looks enjoyable; I wish I could do that’. The whole thing was set in a swampy muddy pit. It brought Shakespeare to life for me.
Quartley: My school took us on frequent trips to the RSC. I remember a production of Midnight’s Children at the Barbican that was visually extraordinary.
What do you do when you’re not performing or rehearsing?
Chequer: Be with my kids.
Quartley: Writing, tennis, gym, crosswords, coffee, friends. In reverse order.
What could you not be without?
Chequer: My children’s nanny and grandparents.
Quartley: My coffee machine. Sometimes I think I prefer making coffee to drinking it.
Do you have any passions in life people might be surprised to hear about?
Chequer: Passion might be a strong word for it, but I love cutting my four and two year olds’ hair. The challenge of not really having a clue what I’m doing but hacking my way through to an uncertain conclusion that could ultimately decide the happiness of someone I love dearly is very addictive.
Quartley: My coffee machine.
Also I follow almost any sport.
What ambitions would you like to fulfil?
Chequer: Turning my lunatic children into well rounded, confident and articulate young men.
Quartley: I’d like to be published. And I’d like to do something really physically challenging. A long walk. With things in the way.
If you weren’t an actor, what would you be?
Chequer: Not a hairdresser.
Quartley: I’d like to say a surgeon or a spy, but more likely I’d be an unnecessarily passionate barista. I hope that’s not tempting fate…