Snuff Box Theatre, for the Soho Theatre presents
by Charlotte Josephine
(Title typeface designed by Kay Ogundimu)
First performed as a London preview at Theatre503 in July 2012. Performed at The Underbelly as part of the Old Vic New Voices Edinburgh Season 2012, supported by IdeasTap. First performance at the Soho Theatre: Tuesday, 19 February 2013.
Character: Chloe Jackson
21-year-old female boxer from Leytonstone, East London.
The performance lasts approximately one hour.
Writer and Performer – Charlotte Josephine
Director – Bryony Shanahan
Original Music/Sound Designer – Daniel Foxsmith
Lighting Designer – Seth Rook Williams
Creative Producer – Daniel Foxsmith
SNUFF BOX THEATRE
Snuff Box Theatre is a bold collective of theatre makers who thrive on creating new work from a blank page. Founded in 2011, after training for three years together on the Contemporary Theatre Course at East 15 Acting School, the company has a rich and diverse background in performance and creative play, which drives us in the creation of our work. We collaborate with multi-skilled actors (actor-musicians, actor-writers, actor-directors and devising specialists) on each new idea, and there is always a strong sense of ensemble within the Snuff Box. Whether large-scale or intimate, political or fantastical, we have one singular aim: to tell great stories on stage.
Snuff Box Theatre is Associate Company at Redbridge Drama Centre; all details can be found on our website: www.snuffboxtheatre.co.uk
Charlotte Josephine
Trained at East 15 Acting School (Acting and Contemporary Theatre Course). Theatre includes Perffection (ZOO Roxy, Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2011, written by Charlotte Josephine, NSDF Commendation for writing), Bitch Boxer (Theatre503, The Underbelly and Soho Theatre 2012/13, Old Vic New Voices Edinburgh Season 2012, Soho Theatre Young Writers Award), Julius Caesar (Donmar Warehouse 2012/13).
Bryony Shanahan
Trained at East 15 Acting School (Acting and Contemporary Theatre Course). Directing includes Bitch Boxer (Snuff Box Theatre, The Underbelly/Soho Theatre/UK National Tour), The Altitude Brothers (Snuff Box Theatre, Redbridge Drama Centre), Chapel Street (Scrawl Theatre, UK National Tour), You and Me (Little Soldier Productions, Greenwich Theatre/The Blue Elephant), Babies (Ben Coren, Southwark Playhouse) and Perffection (Clay Elephant Theatre, Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2011). Assistant director credits include Bound (Bear Trap Theatre, Southwark Playhouse/UK National Tour) and The Gruffalo’s Child (Tall Stories, UK National Tour).
Daniel foxsmith
Trained at East 15 Acting School (Acting and Contemporary Theatre Course). To date, Daniel has performed across two continents and won several awards, including Best Performer at the 2011 Adelaide Fringe. He has toured the UK extensively with award-winning show Bound (Bear Trap Theatre Company) and more recently, with The Gruffalo (Tall Stories) and The Altitude Brothers (Snuff Box Theatre).
Writing includes The Observatory (The Underbelly, Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2011), winner of the NSDF/Methuen Edinburgh Fund award and the CDS/Scottish Daily Mail Edinburgh Award, and The Altitude Brothers (Redbridge Drama Centre, 2012), winner of the IdeasTap Innovator’s Award.
Follow us online www.facebook.com/SB.Theatre or @SnuffBoxTheatre on twitter.
Snuff Box Theatre is very grateful to the following for their support over the years: Uri Roodner, East 15 Acting School, IdeasTap, NSDF, Old Vic New Voices, The Pleasance Theatre Islington, Scottish Daily Mail, Soho Theatre, Adrian @StreetCoffee, Islington Boxing Club, GoLocalise and Redbridge Drama Centre.
ABOUT BITCH BOXER
Image used for Bitch Boxer poster, Old Vic New Voices Edinburgh Season 2012, photo taken by Alex Brenner at Islington Boxing Club
Reviews for Bitch Boxer:
‘Sweat-slick and tough, yet sweet
and gifted with terrific timing.’
**** Times
‘A young company to watch.’
**** Telegraph
‘A pumped-up, underdog monologue with a big heart, delivered in a hail of upper-cuts and a spray of sweat.’
*** Independent
NOTE FROM THE WRITER:
Story of Bitch Boxer
I worked part-time in a coffee shop whilst waiting for acting jobs to appear. Lugging boxes into an office one day a passer-by made a comment about how I didn’t look very ladylike. The kind of thing you can usually brush off but for some reason on that day the comment stung. I wrote a rant on my phone on the bus home, a moan at the world for insisting that women behave a certain way. Reading it a few days later, seeing a character who was really fighting for something, I shaped it into a monologue. A few days later I read that women would be competing in the boxing event at the Olympics for the very first time. The play sort of wrote itself.
Bitch Boxer was developed in the Soho Theatre Young Writers Labs. The very first draft was chosen to be performed as a scratch, by Chizzy Akudolu, at the Soho Theatre in December 2011.
Islington Boxing Club, photo taken by Reggie Hagland
I started training at Islington Boxing Club for research in January 2012. I fell in love with boxing, thick and fast, became totally addicted to training and was invited by IBC to train with the ABA competitive boxers three times a week, where I took my first big hit.
‘You can’t beat this guy’
Photo taken by Reggie Hagland at Islington Boxing Club
I applied, auditioned and won a place on the Old Vic New Voices Edinburgh Season in collaboration with The Underbelly in Edinburgh and supported by IdeasTap. Islington Boxing Club put me in touch with Steve ‘Big Daddy’ Bunce who was kind enough to invite me on his BBC Boxing Hour radio show (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LcR7sNeNKXc&sns=fb) and the name ‘The Writer and The Fighter’ was born. Boxing clubs and boxing fans up and down the country heard me on the show and sent me messages of support, links to websites, DVDs and books on boxing. I was also invited onto the Roundhouse Round One radio show (www.roundhouse.org.uk/round1). Writing during the day and training in the evenings, I was lucky enough to have the support of Sarah Dickenson at the Soho Theatre who was invaluable in mentoring me during the script development. Bitch Boxer then won the Soho Theatre Young Writers Award 2012 (http://www.sohotheatre.com/whats-on/soho-young-writers-award/).
Snuff Box started rehearsing Bitch Boxer in June 2012 with Bryony Shanahan directing the play. In true Snuff Box collaborative form, founder Daniel Foxsmith regularly came in and helped shape the show, all working together to devise original moments within the piece. He also wrote and designed the original music/sound – all this whilst on tour, scaring kids up and down the country in The Gruffalo. Seth Rook Williams was our brilliant lighting designer and Kay Ogundimu designed some beautiful artwork.
Rehearsal shot at East 15, taken by Daniel Foxsmith
Dan and Seth, hard at work
We were designated a Movement-Mentor by the OVNV scheme and enjoyed exploring ideas with the lovely Imogen Knight.
Rehearsal shot, taken at East 15 Acting School
Production Shot, Theatre503, by Alex Brenner
We performed two London previews at Theatre503 in late July, both of which sold out, helping us to raise some much-needed cash.
Production shot, Theatre503, by Alex Brenner
People kindly supported us on Sponsume and my coffee-shop boss (Adrian at Street Coffee) and my mum’s choir (Chiltern Ladies Choir) donated some essential money. Go Localise were kind enough to shoot a promo-video (http://www.golocalise.com/blog/?p=881).
We had a brilliant run at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, performing sold-out shows. The support from people has been amazing.
Steve Marmion
offered us a slot at The Soho Theatre for February 2013. We teamed up with Scrawl Theatre Company to take Bitch Boxer and Chapel Street (written by Luke Barnes) on a double-bill National Tour, after the run at Soho. This is being mentored by the lovely Richard Jordan Productions, who is offering a huge amount of support and advice. A year later I’m still training at IBC; now a carded boxer, doc says I’m fit to fight.
Islington Boxing Club, 2012
Note about the script
This is the original script and differs slightly from the one used in the Snuff Box Theatre production of the play. It’s set in Leytonstone, East London, and is therefore written in that accent, hence the missing ‘ts’ and ‘ings’ in words I felt essential to be spelt like that. I’ve learnt that there are rhythms in boxing, physical patterns essential to keeping good form in the sport and that also create a percussive soundscape. I therefore wanted the delivery of the text to have a rhythm to it. Something that also nods at the spoken-word-world and pays homage to the hip-hop I listened to whilst writing and training. The punctuation therefore is deliberate as a guide to finding the rhythm of Chloe’s accent and attitude. The dashes (/) symbolize a pause that is shorter than a comma.
I’d like to say a huge thank you to everyone for your help and support. First and foremost to Daniel and Bryony, my fellow Snuff Boxers. To Seth and Kay for making us look pretty. To East 15 for giving us a place to play. To IdeasTap, Old Vic New Voices and The Underbelly for Edinburgh. Thank you to the boxers and trainers at Islington Boxing Club and to the female boxers who gave me their time before competing at the Olympics. To all the Soho Theatre team but particularly to Steve Marmion, Sarah Dickenson, Paula Stanic, Jules Haworth and Don McCamphill. Thank you to Curtis Brown and Oberon Books for helping me have my first ever published play to hold in my hand. Last but not least, thank you to my family and friends for putting up with me, to my fairy-god-mother, to my mum and to my dad. Ta very much
– Charlie xx
Please see www.snuffboxtheatre.co.uk for all details about us as a company and the original production. Please contact Curtis Brown Ltd should you wish to perform the play.
BITCH BOXER
Charlotte Josephine
BITCH BOXER
OBERON BOOKS
LONDON
WWW.OBERONBOOKS.COM
First published in 2013 by Oberon Books Ltd
521 Caledonian Road, London N7 9RH
Tel: +44 (0) 20 7607 3637 / Fax: +44 (0) 20 7607 3629
e-mail: [email protected]
www.oberonbooks.com
Copyright © Charlotte Josephine, 2013
Charlotte Josephine is hereby identified as author of this play in accordance with section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. The author has asserted her moral rights.
All rights whatsoever in this play are strictly reserved and application for performance etc. should be made before commencement of rehearsal to the Curtis Brown Group Ltd, Haymarket House, 28-29 Haymarket, London, SW1 4SP ([email protected]). No performance may be given unless a licence has been obtained, and no alterations may be made in the title or the text of the play without the author’s prior written consent.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or binding or by any means (print, electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
PB ISBN: 978-1-84943-477-5
EPUB ISBN: 978-1-84943-935-0
Cover photography by Alex Brenner
Printed, bound and converted
by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY.
Visit www.oberonbooks.com to read more about all our books and to buy them. You will also find features, author interviews and news of any author events, and you can sign up for e-newsletters so that you’re always first to hear about our new releases.
Contents
Character
Chapters
Character
CHLOE JACKSON
21-year-old female boxer
from Leytonstone, East London
The lights are up as the audience enters. The set is bare; a wooden slat bench, a hanging punch bag, a bottle of water and a kit bag. The lighting is stark and artificial in its brightness. We are in the changing room of a sports hall, in the room next-door is the boxing ring, the competition has already begun and we hear the sounds of the other boxers warming up; talking, laughing, and energetic music playing.
The actor playing CHLOE walks on stage carrying a jump-rope. She has one hour until her fight; the qualifier for the Olympics 2012. She is wearing boxing boots, fight shorts, vest and a hoody. She stands centre stage and is still for a moment taking in her audience. She begins skipping and the sounds slowly fade until she is alone. She is professional and focused, skipping centre stage facing the audience. The skipping builds in speed and intensity becoming very fast and furious until it suddenly stops and she drops the rope to the floor. She stands still, breathing hard until she has caught her breath and can speak. If her hood hasn’t already fallen down she pulls it back off her face.
CHLOE: I’d woken up well late. Knew it was late before I looked at my phone. Leant over to pick it up and check the time, praying it weren’t gonna be too bad. Fuck. Ten, twenty-seven. Blind panic as I jump outta bed and run round the house trying to tidy up/ make breakfast and get dressed at the same time. Multi-tasking to the max. All bleary eyed before my mornin’ cuppa. Phone on charge/ toast in the toaster/ kettle on the boil. I jump out the front door to stick the rubbish in the bins. All in the black one. Recycling can fuck itself this morning. I actually thought to myself wouldn’t it be funny if, when I heard the door shut. Click.
Ah no way. You gotta be fuckin’ joking. I stood there gently pushing on the door, just praying it would open. But no. I’m officially locked out. Wearing nothing but a skimpy little vest top and Jamie’s boxer shorts. I ain’t even got trainers on. And it’s half ten in the morning/ everyone’s at work, and I’m in Leytonstone. Not exactly the best place to be locked out dressed like that. I’ve got to be at the gym in an hour and my dad will kill me if I’m late. He’ll be travelling back down from the fight in Manchester with the boys, celebrating their win, all pumped up and ready to go. He thinks I’ve stuck to the straight and narrow; training, tidy house, no boys. Little does he know that Jamie’s been round all weekend.
(Beat.)
I quickly hatch a plan. I reckon I can climb onto the outhouse thing we got at the back of our house ‘n’ try my bedroom window which is always open. But/ there ain’t an alleyway, so to get into the garden/ I gotta ask next door if I can hop their fence. Which is obviously fuckin’ embarrassing, I’m pretty much not wearing anything and next door’s a dirty old bastard.
(Pause.)
I knock next door, but there ain’t no answer. I try the house on the other side, no answer. I try both houses again, no answer/ so I move to two doors down. No fucking answer. By now I’m panicking. Three doors down on both sides still no answer/ four doors down to the left/ and some woman opens the door. She finds it funny, leads me across her shit-heap of a garden and gives us a leg up. ‘Good luck!’ ‘Cheers love.’ Fence number one done. Three more to go.
The next ones is high, it makes the most sense to balance on a little boy’s bike and climb up the fence onto the shed next door. This I do, no problem, my upper-body strength is in top condition. Dropping down off the shed roof I land on the concrete/ slap/ barefoot/ inches from dog shit. Fuck me, this garden is full of it. It’s like a minefield. I stand there working out the best way to weave through it all when I hear that very/ distinct/ pad/ of feet. I turn slowly and I swear down I almost shit myself. It’s a fucking pit-b
ull.
(Sings ‘please don’t bite me little doggy’.)
(Speaks slowly, almost holding her breath.) It rubs its hairy head on my bare leg. And sits still staring up at me, looking confused. Somehow I don’t get bit. I back away. Avoiding most of the shit, never taking my eyes of the dog.
(Breath out and launch into next section.)
Up and over the fence, across the garden to the last one. This one is rotten, a real stunner, the green mossy wood snaps under me cutting my stomach and scratching my legs/ fucksake! But I’m here.
(Smile.)
I made it.
I try the back door but no such luck. I shimmy up the drainpipe. I shit you not/ I zoom up there in no time at all/ surprising myself with a new-found-talent. I scramble up the outhouse roof, all the sharp shingle shredding my shins. And I make it to the window. Little breather/ before I pull it open.
(Breath.)
Now/ someone once told me/ that if a burglar can get their head and shoulders through a hole they can get the rest of ’em in. Well whoever said that obviously didn’t take into account the felines of this cat-burglaring world. No matter how hard I shoved, my lovely lady lumps were not gonna let me through. Just as I’m trying to work out how much it would cost if I just smashed the fuckin’ window/ I see my keys on my bedroom floor. Next to my handbag. Next to me on the roof is a whole load of metal poles/ and bits of wood ‘n’ shit like that from when Dad was decorating. Long story short/ I have a moment of genius. Involving some keys, a metal pole, and a handbag. Fucking result! Keys in my mouth/ I wiggle down the drainpipe, which is/ admittedly harder than going up but I still manage it. I tried all the keys in the back door about four times each. It weren’t happening. Which meant only/ one thing.
Bitch Boxer Page 1
