The audience sees the Ghost Hunter approach the window from across the fields in Film, before he bursts through the door in person.
The room he enters is like a medieval spaceship with the world contained in its middle, and Nothing beyond its bitten-off floorboards. The shutter slams shut and the door is locked. He is trapped, cut off from the outside world. Here he will meet Doormat, the Butler, at present hovering below ten gallons of green jelly.

˙The Brittonionis first became seriously entangled in one of their movies during the Murder Mystery Thriller “Who Shot the Cameraman?” An intruder in a Parka anorak inexplicably enters a sequence of action in the film. To everyone’s astonishment Chrissy sticks his head into the film, then steps fully in and chases the intruder off into the distance.

“What we were doing was creating a living dynamic between stage & screen, where the filmed sequences become part of the world on stage into which and out of which the performers can move –from stage to screen and back again… and performers in film or on stage communicate and talk with one another across this Celluloid Divide”.

Film on Stage holds this power to delight because of the illusion of a whole new living dimension, the depth of field it brings to even the smallest stage and the gorgeous sense of suspended disbelief. It's also been a great way for us to create casts of 100’s and still play all the parts ourselves!

It’s always seemed strange to us that combining film with performance was invented over 100 years ago and yet it’s taken British Theatre so long to embrace it. It's amusing to read drama critics who trumpet it as NEW. When the wonderful Spanish company La Cubana came over in 1997 with a show using film The Guardian claimed “New Artform Invented!” but it’s been around for years. And nowadays it’s unusual to see a show that doesn’t use film.

In Myth, Tellywoman invaded the ‘Porta-Play-Pak-Extenda Theatre’, a sort of kit-form cardboard set, and proceeded to disrupt the show. Even when switched off & unplugged she still managed to saturate the airwaves. Eventually in the form of the Blue Woman – a 16ft X 10ft inflatable head and torso – she envelops all; and so TV triumphed over the live act.

This show tended towards the idea that television, being such an immediate and persistent presence in everyone’s home, was a dangerous vehicle for creating modern myths. Hence the invention of the cold and persuasive Tellywoman  (see YouTube). So, having recently discovered the power of film in shows, we had a small television turned sideways so we could use it for the portrait-shape of her face. This distortion of the screen gave her an eerily hypnotic effect.


MYTH (1986)
“Total blackout in theatres is something one cannot get nowadays because the EXIT lights are so bright. While of course they are there for safety, the loss of total darkness means one cannot so ompletely ‘possess’ the audience’s imagination in total darkness at the beginning of the show. “GHOSTS” started in pitch black; the sense of place becomes less certain, disorientating the audience. A tiny picture appears showing a man approaching down a hillside towards what is obviously a window. He eventually peers in and can’t see inside, steps back, and then crashes in through the door. A flap crashes down over the window and there is total darkness. A classic start to a ghost story and the first time Forkbeard used film as part of the narrative plotline of a show. A Super 8-projector was back-projecting onto a simple sheet of BP screen.”

GHOSTS (1985)