Leading at the Opera House On 48 Hours Notice

It’s 4pm.

I receive a phone call from my agent.

“Damo, Sydney Theatre Company just called.

The lead of The Shiralee has injured his back.

He’s out of the show for the next few nights.

They’d like to know if you want to step in to help out”.

My immediate response…

Oh shit… what happened? Is Josh alright?

He’s a friend and I know — for him to be off,

It’s gotta’ be pretty bad.

She replies…

“We know as little as you do.

They’re just desperate to get some one in

It’s a big show… big role… worth doing.”

When do they want me?

“Right now. Opera House. ASAP”.

Okay.

Deep breath.

Tell them I’ll be there.

“I send you the script now”.

Click.

***

What do you do…

When you have no time to prepare?

What do you do when there’s

No way to follow your usual process?

What do you focus on?

How do you best spend your time?

In my case…

What do you do when

You you feel like your back is against the wall

And people are relying on you

And you literally don’t even know the name

Of the character you're meant to be playing?

***

Well that phone call

Happened a month and a half ago…

It’s been a hot minute since the last podcast,

But I really wanted to write about the experience.

I wanted to unpack it

To clarify the lessons

For myself.

But also to hopefully give anyone out there

Who has experienced something similar

Or is about to embark on something similar

Some food for thought,

And possibly some encouragement.

Because little did I know that when I received that call

48 hours later I would be walking on stage

Leading Sydney Theatre Company’s

The Shiralee

At the Sydney Opera house

In front of a full house

Never having read a script.

***

For context:

Sydney Theatre Company is one the most

Prestigious in Australia.

When I was 18

I used to catch the train to work

Over the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

And every day I would look down out the window

Over the Rocks

Towards where Sydney Theatre Company was.

And I would pine.

Daydreaming of the chance to one day work for that company—

What I thought was the best theatre company in the country.

The company where I’ve seen Australia’s greatest actors grace the stage;

Cate Blanchett,

Joel Edgerton,

Toni Collette,

Hugo Weaving etc.

And in my little heart,

It aways seemed like a bit of a pipe dream.

Little did I know in 2018

I’d get my chance.

But fast forward.

It’s 2025.

And this time feels a little different.

What a wonderful oportunity to practice.

***

On the train on the way in to the Opera House

My phone vibrated.

My agent sent me the script.

A vain attempt to help my understand

What I was walking into.

I looked at the first three pages…

And thought… Shit.

That’s a lot of dialogue

I closed the script immediately.

Too much to learn in a short amount of time.

Let alone even get close to finishing reading the play.

So I made my first conscious decision on the job.

Instead of trying to be a “good actor”,

Instead of trying to cram and learn all the lines

Instead of trying to come in with offers blah blah blah…

I’m just going to see what happens when I get there.

***

So there I was…

Having just arrived to the Opera House.

Immediate costume fittings.

Immediate induction.

Immediate tour of the space.

No time to breathe.

And I realise that “help out”

Means… actually do the lead role.

Up until this point,

I had thought they just needed someone

To help everyone else rehearse.

While the actor took the afternoon off.

And then all of a sudden,

I’m sitting in Josh’s dressing room.

I’ve looked up to this actor since I was 18.

Watched his shows at NIDA.

Followed his career.

To be frank, he’s an inspiration of mine…

Someone who pushes me to want to be a more complete actor.

Sitting in his room… wearing his costume…

Well this felt fucking weird already.

And I found myself

Opposite Kate —

Wrote the adaptation and was acting in the show.

Gorgeous human.

She very kindly offered to help me understand the story

In the 10 minutes we had before stepping straight on stage to work.

She smiled. She’s so god damn warm.

“Where do you want to start”?

She asked.

I thought for a second…

I realised at this point,

Not only had I not read the script,

I didn’t know a single thing about the character or the story.

I didn’t even understand the title of the play.

“What does “Shiralee” mean”?

I asked.

Not even for a second did she judge the question.

She simply answered…

“It’s an old Irish expression… it means burden”

And we were off…

She explained the story.

The character.

The relationships

The arc.

I got the gist.

Kinda’.

But in reality…

I had no fucking clue what was going on.

And it only got worse.

***

A few minutes later I was on stage.

The director — Jess,

(An absolute legend

And half the reason I said “yes”

To this project)

Ran me through the plan.

I was informed that

The character never leaves the stage,

Save for exits for an immediate re-entrance between scenes.

And the show required

Two or three lifts,

Carrying another actor slung over my back,

Two moments of intimacy,

Setting up a swagman’s campsite

Four or five costume changes,

Including one on stage,

Three separate fight scenes,

Including a fully choreography boxing match,

All this in the first act.

Then in act two…

And a staged “car crash incident”.

Etc etc.  You get the point.

There was a lot going on.

***

In the the whirlwind session that followed

We ran through the blocking

While I clumsily tried to hang onto a script

And give a read vaguely in line

With what I was seeing off the page

For the first time.

Needless to say…

My brain was working in overdrive

Doing it’s best to collect the most

Important pieces of information.

Stand here.

Move there.

Turn here.

Run there.

Look there.

Without the help of the cast making notes for me.

No chance to remember all this…

It was… I won’t say overwhelming.

That wasn’t the feeling that came up.

But my head was certainly full and overflowing.

And by around 10pm or so

Towards the end of the first evening…

For the first time,

I had the realisation…

“There is no hope”.

There is no way I could possibly do my job

To the degree that I would like to

Had I been given 5 weeks of rehearsal…

There was just no way.

I know this might sound obvious.

But there was still a part of me

That despite it all

Wanted to give a great show…

That wanted to “do good”.

To feel like a did a “good job”.

And above all…

I didn’t want to let the team down.

I’m human after all.

And STC means something to me.

And because I know this about myself…

That in the past I’ve leant towards

Trying to “get it right”

And trying to be a “good” actor—

I knew this going one of two ways.

Number one…

I would try ever HARDER to get it right.

Try even HARDER to be the lead actor

Of the show…

The one the audience are expecting.

The one I can see in my imagination.

Or two…

At this moment of no hope,

Instead of pushing…

I could do the opposite.

Give up.

I chose the latter.

And breathed a huge sigh of relief.

***

Looking back,

The two words the sum up the lesson

That came from the experience

That took me from “No hope”

To being on stage,

Able perform in 48 hours later are:

Surrender & Presence

Sounds simple enough…

But what the hell does that really mean?

First… surrender.

There was no hope

So I surrendered.

I gave up.

Gave up on all the “shoulds”.

Or feeling like I should give a great performance.

The kind of performance that takes 5 weeks to rehearse.

The performance that I would desperately love to give.

I gave up on feeling like I should know everything… or anything!

I gave up on pretending that I could

Continue the way things were going.

And surrendered to my circumstances.

Allowed whatever was going to happen… to happen.

And simply placed all of my focus on just being present.

How?

By listening and responding

Moment to moment.

And that feeling of “no hope”

Became the a little moment of liberation.

And it felt… fucking great.

***

Holding the script wasn’t working.

There was WAY too much physical activity.

So at the end of night one,

I asked for help.

I requested to have an earpiece.

An earpiece wold allow me to drop the script

And focus on listening.

They are expensive.

Not all companies have access to them.

It’s something I NEVER would asked for

Ten of fifteen years ago.

I would have judged myself.

“I can’t ask for that…” I’d think.

I would have felt like such a Prima Donna.

Such a wanker.

But… I’d seen Anthony Lapaglia do it last year

In a show when I worked with him

On Death of a Salesman.

It's what I needed…

So I gave up pretending I could

Do it script in hand…

And asked for what I wanted.

And luckily for me,

And to my  great surprise…

Nobody batted an eyelid…

They just said “yes”.

We’ll try get one for tomorrow night

To test it the next evening to see how it goes.

***

The next night.

I walked into the theatre to finishing rehearsing the show…

No script in hand.

An earpiece in my ear and someone

Feeding me my lines from off stage

I was hearing the story unfold in my ear

For the very first time as I was saying the words out loud.

One of the weirdest experiences I’ve ever had.

Because I still didn’t know what was coming next.

And as we reached the climax of the show…

I stopped, dumbstruck at the story exclaiming:

“Oh my god, is that what happens”!?

Because it was only as I heard it in my ear

To speak the dialogue out loud

That I understood the plot twist.

And by night two…

Just over 24 hours after getting the call.

That was it.

Rehearsals done…

Tomorrow night,

After a dress run - I would be on.

Leading the show,

At the Opera House

On 48 hours notice.

***

The whole company were very kind and generous.

But there was a narrative that was repeated.

“You must be so nervous”.

But the truth is,

I wasn’t.

Not the whole time.

There were three very distinct moments of nerves.

They were:

Seeing the Opera House for the first time for this job.

That hit home.

There was a pang of adrenaline

Standing on stage when the head of the company

Announced to the cast that I was going on the next night.

And the last one was the moment in the dark

Before going on in front of a live audience.

Feeling my hands sweating as I held onto

A herbal cigarette and zippo lighter,

Waiting for my cue light.

But that’s it.

Those three moments.

And this experience made me realise something…

Any feelings of dissonance or nerves

Only arose when I was thinking about everything around the work.

Not when actually engaged in the work itself.

It was only when considering all the “uncontrollables”:

What the audience thinks.

How I’m going to be perceived.

Will I do a “good job”?

Whether people will compare me to Josh.

Will the audience know I’m wearing an earpiece?

What happens if it breaks?

Do they think I suit the role?

Etc etc…

Rather than actually focussing — simply

On what I was doing.

On the last at hand.

And this placement of focus

Is applicable to any scenario

Particularly when the results

Lie outside your control.

So… most scenarios!

***

Looking back,

I wasn’t not nervous because I don’t feel nerves…

Sometimes my gut churns so bad I feel I’m going to be sick.

But for the vast majority of the time working,

There wasn’t much choice but to be present

To listen and respond.

Moment to moment

Every second of the show…

To trust fully whatever was coming through that earpiece

And trust that my body would know what to do next.

Interesting to note, once we were on;

There was one time that I felt very NOT present.

Out of my body and really in my head.

During an exit and re-entrance,

I stood for about 30 seconds next to the stage manager.

In this 30 seconds—

I had just enough time to think and consider

What was actually going on.

How crazy it was that I was in front on an audience,

With little to no idea about what I’m doing.

And as I stood by the stage manager…

While he looked over the script where

He was calling the show…

I thought to myself

“I wonder if I’m doing any good”.

And caught it immediately.

It was almost funny.

Because  I remembered very quickly…

I only have about 10 seconds left

Before going back on.

Focus…

What is my next cue?

What do I have to do next?

That’s right…

I have a cue light.

Stare at the light.

When it turns green…

Run back on and

Give myself over to circumstance.

Listen… respond… repeat.

That’s all I have to do.

***

In the end…

Was the show “perfect”?

Nope.

Does it matter?

Nope.

Am I proud of the work?

You betcha.

Bowing that night,

I was as proud of that performance

As any I’ve ever given.

So next time you have an opportunity pop up…

When there’s no time to prepare.

Try surrendering.

Give up on all the “shoulds”

Do your best with the time you have.

Be intentional about where you place your focus.

Because where you place your focus matters.

Is it on what you can control?

Or what you can’t control?

And lastly… trust yourself.

Give yourself over the experience.

Allow it to be whatever it’s going to be.

And most importantly…

Have fun out there.

Dx