Going Underground

Going Underground: An Interview with Che Walker

Che Walker's new play premieres at the Globe in July. He talks to Heather Neill about his inspirations for The Frontline: the Globe, the Tube and London lives

You were in Othello last season. Did acting on the Globe stage colour the writing of The Frontline?
It was a golden opportunity. I was in three scenes in the first Act, then had a two-and-a-half hour break during which I’d sit in the attic, wearing my doublet and hose and bushy beard, writing. I could hear the muffled sound of Othello pulsing through the floor boards, which was particularly apt as Othello was the reason I became an actor in the first place; it’s my favourite play. Eamon Walker, who played Othello, is an old friend and the director, Wilson Milam, had directed my first play, Flesh Wound. And, of course, it was good to experience the stage from the point of view of an actor.

Do you think hearing Shakespeare influenced the writing?
I hope the vitality, the robustness, the bravura rhetoric leaked into it.

Where is The Frontline set and why?
It is set near a tube station. I’m fascinated by what happens around stations. There is usually skulduggery, drug trafficking, prostitution, lost people arriving, drifting, on their way somewhere. Camden is my patch - I grew up there and still live in the area - and I’ve seen it change over the years. There used to be Irish, Greek and Italian communities. Now there are more Africans, Bangladeshis, Sudanese and Ethiopians. I did my research around Camden tube, watching people just behaving, on down-time, but really it could be a number of different places in London.

There’s a sequence about the Victorians in the play and the mix of colourful London characters could be described as Dickensian. Is that period important to you?
The hook for me was the Underground. It was one of their great achievements, symbolic of their vigorous industry, and it struck me that the other thing they were doing at about the same time was annexing great swathes of a continent that didn’t belong to them in “the scramble for Africa”. In previous centuries, the English used to be famed for their wild passion and fantastic dances, but all that seems to have died around this time; everything was tightened up. But there was terrible hypocrisy too: sexual disease and prostitution were rife and dreadful acts of barbarism committed.The way we live now is a result of the industry of the Victorians.

This is your fourth play, isn’t it?
Yes. The others have had between three and five characters, so being commissioned to write such a crowded piece, with 22 characters and not much opportunity for doubling, was very liberating.

And your characters come from so many different ethnic backgrounds. Does that pose a particular challenge?
There are a few characters in this play - Miruts who is Ethiopian, Salim who is Somali and Mahmoud from Afghanistan - who need to be played as coming from specific places. But many others could be black or white to allow flexibility in casting. Of course you take a risk if you identify a character as black when you are not yourself black, but I listen and I accept help from friends. If an actor from a particular community says a line doesn’t ring true, you have to be humble and change it. I think it is important to present a wide palette and give opportunities to people of diverse talents. I simply reflect the world I see around me.

It is not an easy world to live in, is it?
Everyone arriving in London from elsewhere faces the same problems until the next influx gets picked on. Sadly, shocking things happen.

There is violence in The Frontline, but you have made sure that there is plenty of humour too.There are several different strands, aren’t there?
Yes, there’s the actor Mordecai, who is deluded, vain, possibly self-invented. Ragdale, who thinks every young woman is his missing daughter, is funny in a sad way, and Elliot the teenage boy is full of bravado, which is life-affirming but also ludicrous. Marcus subverts expectations as a bookish, peace-loving bouncer - I had a lot of fun writing him. And, of course, there’s the Marmite theme. Researching the science of that cost me many late nights! Marmite is famously divisive; you rarely meet people from abroad who have a passion for it.

Did you have all the action in your head at once?
Yes, more or less, although I wrote separately the two parallel love stories, which involve the characters who have the arguments and make political speeches, and wove them in. I very much enjoyed writing about this group of people, could easily have written another two hours’ worth and another 10 characters! I cut reams.

Do you become emotionally involved with the characters you have created?
Yes. I love all of them and scenes where bad things happen can be hard to write.

Yet you also require them to step out of the action.
The songs they sing comment on the action and an actor may come out of character to sing them.

You are well known for giving your characters heightened language. Where does that come from?
Yes, this is my bag. Some people go with it, some won’t, but I’ve never heard complaints about characters in classic plays speaking in iambic pentameters or couplets. Besides, it is not as unlikely as some people assume. Learning English as a second language can give you a sensual feeling for it. Then there is the influence of the King James Bible, written at about the same time as Shakespeare’s later plays. This is in many West Indian and African homes, and the Koran too is full of incredible language. Words from these will pop up in conversation, sometimes unbidden.

You have said that writing for the Globe is liberating, but that stage can be daunting, can’t it?
Stepping on to it for the first time as an actor was terrifying. There’s nowhere to hide. But now I like the idea of things happening simultaneously on the stage, so that something powerful is happening in sharp focus for one part of the audience, and something elsewhere that they will strain to hear - which, in turn, is close to the audience on the other side of the stage. I like to have overlapping speeches - I’ve been wanting to experiment with this for a lomg time - but it is important that people hear them all. It is the opposite of what happens in film where a director guides your attention. And different, too, from a proscenium arch theatre, where we all experience something similar together.

Does being an actor influence the way you write?
It’s great training. It’s no accident that Shakespeare, Pinter, Sam Shepard - and, indeed Jack Shepherd who wrote Holding Fire for the Globe last year - all began as actors. It’s a pleasure for me to try to deliver the actor something which will challenge and inspire him or her. I know from experience - I have worked in some terrible scripts over the last 15 years - about the importance of giving an actor objectives and setting things up properly with high stakes to play for.

There is some bad language and what is described as “strong content”. Are you concerned about being the first to bring these things, set in a modern context, on to the Globe stage?
I am slightly nervous, but I’m hoping people will make the connection to the epic style of Shakespeare’s time. And I think young people may respond well to seeing themselves up there.

And you are determined to end, after the fun and the sadness, with a jig?
Yes. Whatever we have seen the people go through on stage, this is still a celebration of their lives, of their struggle and of their potential.

Would you like to act in the play yourself?
There is a character I’d love to have a go at, but I’m looking forward to being in the audience and seeing all the bits and pieces come together under someone else’s direction. It’s a wonderful moment, seeing your words come alive for other people.

This article is published in the magazine of Shakespeare's Globe 'Around the Globe', issue 38, Spring 2008. Subscription details.

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