On This Day...  Unless you’re Tolstoy (born 1883) or Archbishop Laud (beheaded 1645) January 10th is probably a day just like any other. But you may have missed an event of startling cultural significance that took place in 1985 – the date of the Chameleon Players first meeting, having risen from the ashes of another drama group in Hull. Although this is not the place to tell their story, suffice to say the Producer and the rest of the group were not seeing eye to eye, with the latter walking out on the former. But Anne refused to let it die and, after a round of phone calls, got a sizable proportion of us back together to carry on under a new name, a name chosen by Mary, a name that would soon strike terror into the hearts of audiences everywhere – The Chameleon Players! Mary also chose this 1950’s "farcical comedy" to be our first production. And, after the "luxury" of five months rehearsals, we made our debut at Hull Film Theatre.

The Critics Rave  “Laughs come thick and fast”, gushed the Hull Daily Mail. "Jokes can fall very flat in a farce if the play is badly directed or the acting unconvincing. But this production of Love's A Luxury avoided all the pitfalls". Dave was "superb as the bird-brained Mr Mole", Sally was "enticing as the sexy Molly" and David "was unsteady at first but had everyone roaring with laughter when he got into drag". The rest of the cast were praised for their "strong performances". All in all we were "a good night out for anyone who wanted a chuckle".

Quote, Unquote  As the only acting member from our first production still standing, I shall be your guide to the first few years of the Chameleons existence. And I think this is the best place to acknowledge the efforts of Anne and Mary - I wouldn't be writing this umpteen years later otherwise! I do remember that me and Rosie were scoping out other drama societies in Hull when we got Anne's call. Establishing our own group with people we already knew seemed a much more enticing prospect. And the rest, as they say, is history.
I got the impression at the reading that Anne had her eye on the part of Margaret and was more than a little peeved when she was cast in the minor role of Mrs Harris. It didn’t matter to her that the part was funny, that it had a pivotal part in the plot, it wasn’t BIG. She kind of lost interest after that.
The biggest problem with being a new group was that we had no money, no set, no NOTHING. We needed the five months just to build all the flats. So every Sunday afternoon me and Dave Barber, with the occasional able assist from Rosie and Janet, would go down to Mary's garage and bang, hammer, screw and cut our thumbs open with stanley knives. And with nothing in the kitty we had to fund all this out of our own pockets, hoping to make enough on the door to pay ourselves back. We did hold a jumble sale to generate some funds but that was far, far more trouble than it was worth.
But was the end product any good? If the Hull Daily Mail can be believed, then yes. There was a real sense of achievement at the end though. And if you're wondering where all the photographs of me in drag are - wonder away! David

Was I In That One?  In what would become something of a recurring event for the Chameleon Players, our original Pentwick bottled it with only six weeks to go. Chuck was an equity card holder, a "comedy vocalist" who wanted to gain some experience of straight, well straight-ish, theatre. And we were more than happy to let him. In fact his "strong performance" won him a part in the professional production of Northern Trawl by Remould Theatre Company.

The Audience Won't Notice  Mr Mole’s first appearance involves him asking to borrow an egg (don't ask) from Pentwick. Unfortunately, on Saturday night, Dave completely lost it after his glowing review and missed out two whole pages as soon as he got onstage, including not only the bit where he asks for the egg, but also the bit where Pentwick asks Molly to go and get one for him.
We all knew something had gone wrong but thought we'd covered it until we got to the bit where Molly was supposed to RETURN with the egg. After an uncomfortable pause Dave came out with, "Erm… I think we’re missing an egg here, Mr Pentwick". Chuck opened the kitchen door to reveal an understandably shell-shocked Sally standing right behind it wondering what the hell she should do.
"Get an egg for Mr Mole, Molly", he said shutting the door in her face. "Nice weather we’re having, Mr Mole" he ad-libbed before Sally was pushed onstage holding the egg. "The audience didn’t notice a thing", shrugged Dave in the dressing room afterwards. Yeah, right.