We've seen off two road managers already, now we're on to our third. Tilda is about to join us.
The road manager's job is a tough one: to control four excitable actors let loose in the playground of European theatre. It's really a two-person job, but economics dictate otherwise. The road manager is the unsung hero of touring theatre.
A typical day's diary entry for any road manager might sound a bit like this: "Paid a massive hotel bill; set off on a 200-mile drive to the sound of four actors complaining about the lack of a soft-boiled egg or a minibar; drove back to the hotel to drop off a key, discovered in the pocket of X actor just as we entered the Autobahn slip road; supervised a 16-strong stage crew in making wing space and run-around; rigged and focused the lights for three hours, with just enough time for a pee before curtain up; liaised with front of house over the sale of programmes; gave 15, 10 and five-minute calls to the actors (ie dragged them out of the smoking room), operated the (intricate) lighting cues during the show; collected a massive wad of cash from the box office; drove for another two hours before booking everyone in to the next hotel and finally had to repeat at least four times the call time for tomorrow. PS I think I might be about to murder an actor."
This week we had a particularly tough, and relatively unusual, double-venue day. We woke in Munich with a 6:30am call, drove through the city traffic for about an hour to Erding (home of Erdinger Weisbier), unloaded the van, got in, did a show at 10am, got out, loaded the van, drove another hour to Ingolstadt on the banks of the Danube, unloaded the van, got in, did a show at 7:30pm, got out, loaded the van, drove another hour back to Munich. Just in time for a nightcap in the hotel bar. A 17-hour day is tough for the actors but doubly tough for Oli the road manager who was pretty much on the go nonstop. The last thing he needs to hear at midnight is, "Oh, Oli, I've just found my room key from last Wednesday."
The road manager also does all the driving - 6,585 miles so far. The day after our double day, Oli drove us over 200 miles to Winterthur in Switzerland, then on to Saarbrucken on the French border. He also hands out touring allowances and expenses, sets the call times, prepares information sheets with breakfast hours and room numbers, answers a never-ending stream of questions from forgetful actors and deals with our lovably eccentric American producer. The only thing he doesn't do is tie our shoelaces.
No wonder Oli's on his way out. Rene, our previous manager, is currently sunning himself in Andalucia. Good luck Tilda.
