PAUL: Hello and welcome to Regrets,
I've had a Few.

I'm Paul Hunter, Artistic Director of Told

by an Idiot, and this is a podcast where I
talk to friends and colleagues,

delving into what made them
the person they are today.

Hello and welcome to this first episode
of Regrets, I've had a Few in 2024.

My guest this month is an actor and writer

who has recently branched out
into directing and dramaturgy.

As a writer, they have a truly unique
voice: the ability to combine

the political and the personal,
the touching and the comic.

An innate sense of theatre that quite
literally brings audiences to their feet.

Welcome, Charlie Josephine.

CHARLIE: Oh, what a lovely intro.

Thanks very much.
That's nice.

I wish I got that every
time I walk into a room.

PAUL: Well, you can have that.
That's yours, Charlie.

I should say, thank you
so much for joining us.

And I also need to come clean
to the listeners, if they don't know, but

I am very biassed because I am fortunate
enough to be working with Charlie

and performing in their brilliant play
Cowbois, which we all did in the RSC last

year and is shortly about to open
at the Royal Court Theatre in London.

And I'm going to say something which I've

said to you, Charlie, but I feel
I need to say it to the public.

It has been...

The experience of working
with you on this play...

Has been one of the best
experiences I've had as an actor.

Ever.

And I've been doing it a terribly long
time, Charlie, so if that means something.

CHARLIE: I'm so happy to hear that.
PAUL: Well,

it needs to be said,
because the team that you and Sean Holmes,

the Co-Director, brought
together, is truly unique.

And the playful, collaborative,

caring and at times, wild atmosphere
you created was a joy to be part of.

We will come to Cowbois, I'm sure,

at some point in this,
but I wanted to start with a quote

of yours, Charlie, if that's all right,
which I was really taken by.

I think I read it maybe back
when we were rehearsing.

And this is you saying "My brain
is fizzy and my body likes to move.

I'm proper passionate about making art

that's honest, visceral, sweaty,
particularly stories that centre working

class women and queer people."
It's brilliantly articulated.

It feels totally authentic.

Now, I know and work with you,
but how did it come about that you were

arrived at that kind of statement,
I suppose, or that you articulated that?

CHARLIE: I mean, that took a long time.

So in the 2020 pandemic that marked ten
years of me being graduated from drama

school
and I made myself a website in that time,

like you do, bored at home
in the middle of a global pandemic.

I thought, I know, I'll make a website.

And I sort of googled how to do it and was

quite chuffed with myself because I'm
really terrible with technology

and I looked at other people's websites
and sometimes they've clearly written

about themselves, but in this sort of,
what you call it, that third person.

So they'll be like, oh,
Dave makes work or Sarah does this.

And I thought, I'm just going to write it

like it's me, because it obviously is, and
it'll be a bit silly to pretend otherwise.

And then I thought, well,
what do I do and what am I trying to do?

And I think a lot of people,
weren't they at that time,

having quite big questions about their
life and sort of putting things

into perspective a bit and
taking a moment to reflect.

And, yeah, that's what I wrote down.

I sort of thought, yeah,
I think that's sort of what I'm doing

and if it needs editing in the future,
I'll change it again.

But I think that basically sums it up
in the neatest way that I can.

PAUL: Well, it's interesting what you said

there, because what I love about it is it
does sound obviously exactly like you

talking and there's lots of moments when
you read things where it doesn't sound

like that as you say,
and it makes you think a little bit about,

obviously, my co founder and dear friend
and colleague, John Wright, and his book,

which for me is a seminal book,
'Why is That So Funny?' and the way he

writes in that book, I remember saying
to him, that sounds like you talking.

And I don't like theatre books very much.

I'm not very interested
in them in general.

But what I love about his book is it's

like being in the room with him
and that, similarly,

I feel that not just about your statement,
but about your writing as well.

We'll touch more on that later.

But I'm going to take you back, Charlie,

as I always do with my guests,
is to ask you to maybe try and remember

your first kind of theatre experience,
what you saw, or was it at school or

with the family and what impact, if any,
that showbiz experience had on you.

CHARLIE: I can remember it viscerally,

but to start, really, I was sort of doing
drama before I'd actually seen any.

I was like this weird little queer,

non binary trans kid before
we had any of that language.

In the early 90s, my mum, bless her,
to her best, you know tried to support me.

And I've got ADHD and I'm dyslexic.

And then on top of that,
I had a speech impediment as a kid.

So that was kind of like having fireworks
inside your head, like loads of energy,

loads of ideas, loads of creative
ways of responding to the world.

But I couldn't articulate a sentence
literally because my mouth didn't work,

but also because the way my brain works,
they call it phonological processing.

It's like I don't really
go in a sort of...

It's very challenging for me to go

in a linear pattern when
I am forming a thought.

I've got better at it over the years.

So, yeah, I was just this mad little kid

with loads of energy and then
couldn't talk properly.

So then I just stopped talking.

And my mum was a nurse.

She just retired recently
after 42 years in the NHS.

She's an incredible woman.
PAUL: Wow.

CHARLIE: Amazing.
PAUL: That's a hero.

CHARLIE: And she had a mate that was doing
training to be a voice therapist.

So we managed to get, I think, for free.

I think I was like her case study,
some voice therapy, what I hated.

But out of the back of that,

this woman said, oh,
you should get Charlie to go to a local

drama club because it
might boost my confidence.

And my sister was doing ballet

at Jane Marie Dance and Drama Club, which
was this very serious woman, Jane Marie.

I remember her having loads of hairspray

and lipstick all the time,
and she terrified me.

And my sister would do these ballet
classes in this church hall and it was

like plinky, plonky music,
and I can remember the pink shoes.

And I sort of secretly wanted to join

in because I quite like some of the shapes
that they were making with their body,

but I would never be seen caught
doing something that girly.

So eventually I got talked
into doing the drama club bit of it.

And I was the youngest there by far,

when I was at primary school, but I was
really good at it and I really loved it.

And I was obsessed with that film Oliver!

with Jack Wild.

I must have watched
that film a thousand times.

And I really wanted
to be the Artful Dodger.

PAUL: Of course.

It's the best part.

CHARLIE: Yeah, it's the best part. I was sort
of doing drama club from a very young age.

And then my mum would take me to the old

town hall in Hemel Hempstead,
which is still there.

It's a tiny little 60 seater
studio theatre.

And they get quite a lot of -

PAUL: Yeah, we're performed there!
CHARLIE: Yeah, I was going to say,

I wouldn't be surprised if you toured
there, because they get quite a lot of -

PAUL: We did our early shows there.

CHARLIE: Yeah, brilliant theatre companies come

and test stuff there before
they then go into London often.

And so what you'd get is a show.

I mean, again, not age appropriate.

I'd have seen the Caucasian Chalk Circle.

I remember that really vividly.
Mother Courage.

I was like a seven year old watching
all this, like, quite adult content.

And then afterwards
they'd do like a workshop.

So that's like 3 hours of babysitting

for my mum for like six quid,
do you know what I mean?

So she was quite happy.

And then we'd go, Watford Palace Theatre.

My dad worked in this factory and they had

a scheme with Elton John, something
to do with Watford Football Club.

Did he run it at one point?

PAUL: Yeah, he was president or chairman.

CHARLIE: So it was like kids, for a quid,
you could go and watch the football

and then you could go to the panto
at Watford Palace Theatre.

And I remember going with all these big

burly men from the factory, all these
dads, and we'd go and watch the panto.

And I just loved it.

I knew that there was jokes that were
too old for me to understand.

And I've really enjoyed watching the dads

laughing at stuff that I didn't, I knew
was a bit naughty, but I didn't know why.

And there's a sort of queerness,
isn't there, in the dame?

And you got sweets chucked
at you and you could shout out.

I love a panto.

I think I've been quite snobby in the past

about panto and musicals, but actually
I think they're fucking great.

Like a real kind of working
class community altogether.

Huge emotional catharsis,
like really fun night out.

PAUL: I totally agree, Charlie,
and I'm laughing a little bit at this

vision of your seven year old self both
embracing the works of Bertolt Brecht

in theatre and also the pantomime with
your dad and his mates from the factory.

It sounds like a brilliant
introduction to showbiz.

I agree with you about pantomime.

We did one years ago, Lyric Hammersmith,

where I played Widow Twankie
and Hayley was Aladdin.

And I think I love pantomime.

I also think it's very
experimental as a form.

It's very wild.

If it didn't exist and someone invented it

today, it would be like,
wow, what's this thing?

Which is why the Americans
don't quite get it either.

They go, what's this?

What's going on?

CHARLIE: Yeah, it feels very British.

Kind of like it's the one night out
where everyone can sort of let rip a bit.

And it is a full family affair.

And there's not a lot of artforms that
do that, I think.

PAUL: No, I totally agree with you.

So you obviously were getting your theatre
time at the old town hall.

Were you doing any performing at school?
Was that happening?

CHARLIE: Yeah, like Christmas shows.

I got the main part in a Christmas show
and I remember coming home,

my parents were arguing,
this is just before they broke up.

And I thought, oh,
I won't tell them that I'm the main part,

I'll just let them come and watch
it and it'll be a surprise.

And I think.

I sort of thought that that would
help them get back together.

So much pressure on our young kids.

Obviously, that didn't happen,

but I took it so seriously, I think, okay,
I'll be really honest,

and this is a little bit earnest of me,
Paul, so please forgive me.

PAUL: But that's all right.

CHARLIE: There's part of me still that really
believes in the power of theatre.

I'm laughing because I feel like a wanker,
but I really do.

There's something sometimes that happens
in a theatre that is like magic.

And they are so precious, those moments,
and genuinely life changing,

because they're inspiring,
or they open us up to empathy

or something,
or they connect us and remind us

that we're all connected,
or they just make us feel alive

and they're rare, but when they happen,
they're absolutely golden.

And I think even from doing the Christmas

show at school, I wanted
to try and achieve that for the audience.

I wanted them to have
that moment of magic.

So I just really took it really seriously.

From such a young age.

I was like, we've got a job to do.

That's, like, sacred.

Do you know what I mean? So I knew

everybody's lines and I just
really took it seriously.

I think I've still got that in me now,

where I'm like, the bar is really high,
like we're striving for something.

It's not casual.

Making theatre, for me is not casual.

PAUL: What you've just said as well, Charlie.

Absolutely.

It's not earnest at all.

But what's brilliant about what you've
just articulated is exactly how I feel.

Totally.

And sometimes you can question that as one
gets older and I'm slightly older,

and sometimes you can find yourself
committing to something that is utterly

ridiculous and utterly ludicrous
with all your heart in that moment.

And it really, really matters.

And of course, it's good
to have a perspective on that.

My family give me that perspective very
clearly, who still think that I just go

out with my mates
and mess around for a job.

And in some ways, I do.

And I think that's important as well,
to mess around with people.

But that sense of commitment, do you
remember what the play was? What were you?

CHARLIE: I was Father Christmas in a sort
of contemporary version of the nativity?

I think I remember wearing some

boots that were far too big,
and I was sort of clumping around.

PAUL: And it's interesting in some ways,

your statement as well about, you know you
talked about what theatre you want

to make, and I get a feeling,
we're from probably similar backgrounds.

My dad worked in a factory.

My mum was a dinner lady.

I was going to the pantomime,
so there wasn't context for me.

And by the sound of it, for yourself

in the family of people doing theatre
or going to the theatre a lot.

So I think sometimes when you discover it
the way that maybe you and I do,

and it really ignites a flame,
then it becomes a really burning flame,

I think sometimes, because
you haven't been exposed to.

You've got no kind of
sense and context, I suppose.

So, moving a bit further forward,

when did you kind of think,
I want to try and do this properly.

I want to try and make this what I do.

CHARLIE: I mean, I was very naughty at school
and so I did a BTEC in acting instead

of doing A Levels because you just pissed
about for two years getting stoned.

And then one teacher there, Katie Posner,
who now runs Paines Plough,

I don't know if she remembers
that she - so she listens to this.

Hi, Katie - but I don't know if she
remembers, but she was one of my tutors

at college and had to put up with me
drinking too much and all of that sort.

And she said, you should
go to drama school.

And I didn't even really
know what that was.

I sort of thought of like Billy Elliot,

do, you know, like trying
to get into dance school?

That was my only reference, really.

And then my granddad died and left
me like £2000 in his will.

And it had to go towards some educational.

So I was allowed to spend it
on auditions for drama school.

And I'd never auditioned
for anything before.

And I don't know if it's the same now,
but they're quite expensive.

You got to travel there,
you've got to pay to audition.

Yeah, it's a ridiculous system, really.

So I ended up auditioning for loads

of drama schools and I
got into, I think, two.

And one of them was East 15

on the Contemporary Theatre Course
ran by Uri Roodner.

And I was only 17 when I auditioned.

And he said, you're too young,
come, you've definitely got a place.

But for next year, he said,
go and get your heartbroken.

Go get some life experience.

He's so provocative, isn't he, as a clown?

Really.

So, yeah, then I did that course, which,
as you know, because you've worked

with some CTs,
it's a really messy sort of theatre making

course, rather than,
like, an actor training.

So we did a lot of devising,
a lot of clowning, a lot of movement,

a lot of directing each
other, a lot of music.

Like, we made a Klezmer band at one point.

I can't really remember why,
but that was great.

And worked with some incredible
practitioners like yourself.

I remember you came and did a sort

of workshop day for us,
and I was really - sorry to

blow smoke up your arse,
but I was really blown away by it.

And Uri was really fantastic at bringing

in theatre practitioners who were actually
working, who are not kind of stale

teachers who used to want to be an actor
or a theatre maker or something

like that, like
Kirsty Housley and China Plate.

PAUL: Oh wow!

CHARLIE: People like that come in and
that was really inspiring for me.

And I think, really,
at some point in those three years,

I started to be like, oh,
I really want to do this.

And I wrote my first play there.

April DeAngelis mentored us.
PAUL: Wow.

CHARLIE: And we took it to the Edinburgh Fringe
when we graduated in 2011.

I sort of was directing my mate's play

and I was in mine,
and it was a sort of very incestuous

affair, really, of everyone doing
a bit of everyone else's job.

And about five people came to see it,
but one of them was the NSDF.

And I got a commendation
for writing from the NSDF.

And that was a kind of confidence boost

for me to be like, oh,
maybe I'm all right at this writing thing,

because I really just started writing
to give myself a part to play.

PAUL: What was this play?

CHARLIE: It was called Perfection.

And the title was spelt wrong.

It had two f's,

which is not a great title,
and it was about body image

and the culture at the time,
particularly at that school.

I hope it's changed was
a sort of trauma porn.

It was really like,
dig deep and find the most dramatic thing

that's happened to you in your life
and write about it and make smart.

And obviously, we all went mad.

And I sort of was really ill at the time

with an eating disorder, which luckily,
at the moment, I'm in a good place with.

But I wrote about it when I was still
really active and ill

and then tried to perform it every
day for a month in Edinburgh.

And, of course, you go mad.

And now whenever I talk to young people,
I'm like, please don't do that.

It's not necessary.

It's not necessary to make good art

by sharing really personal things
that you're not ready to share or

by finding traumatic life events or -
it doesn't make the work sexy and cool.

It just makes you vulnerable
to more mental health issues.

PAUL: I totally agree with you.

I also subscribe.

Well, I don't subscribe necessarily

to the theory that all great
art comes from great struggle.

I have a real problem with that.

I think you can make really great things
from having a really great time,

and I think Cowbois is
a very good example of that.

I loved every single
minute coming into work.

And sometimes you're struggling,
you're trying to find things out.

But on the whole,
the atmosphere was joyous, playful.

Everyone was kind and considerate,
and we made something really good.

Sometimes people think, oh,
it's got to be a really struggle.

You've got to really suffer
to make something good.

And I don't agree with that.

I don't think that's necessary at all.

CHARLIE: And particularly,
thank you for saying that.

I'm really pleased to hear it because it

was something me and Sean worked really
hard on in the preparation for rehearsals.

We were like, we want to have fun.

We want to have a really joyous
time and work with kind know.

We joke that we chose kind people over
talent, but that's obviously not true.

I don't mind talented bunch, but

PAUL: I Think it's interesting that you say about

you and Sean talking about it before
rehearsals because I think it's really

important that if you're going to think
about that, that you pay attention to it.

It's not something that
just happens by chance.

The people that in some ways are holding
that room have to pay attention

to the atmosphere and spirit that they
want to generate or engender there.

It doesn't happen by - we all turn up
and by chance - it takes some

consideration and some, how are you
going to actually make that happen?

But no, that really
struck a chord with me.

So you'd written your own thing and then

obviously a show which you said yourself
sort of changed your life was Bitch Boxer

and how soon after Perfection
was Bitch Boxer sort of emerging?

CHARLIE: I graduated in 2011.

We took, you know, in the summer.

We took Perfection
to Edinburgh that summer.

About five people saw it.

We came back skint and unemployed.

I didn't have an agent.

I sort of was working in a coffee shop.

I'd managed to break my ankle up there,
so I was walking around in a moon boot.

It was a disaster.

Great start to a career.

And then, yeah,

my mum was bored of me moaning and said,
just write yourself something to do.

And that tough love thing.

I started to write,

really, monologues, because I thought, oh,
if I ever get a chance to audition

for something, at least I've
got a good monologue I can use.

And then slowly it started
to grow into this one person show.

And then I just applied for loads

of funding and, yeah,
by the following summer,

we were up in Edinburgh
as part of the Old Vic New Voices scheme.

I wouldn't have been able
to afford to go without it.

And I sort of just very cheekily was like,
you have to put this play on because it's

about this summer, it's about
women boxing at the Olympics.

And that was happening at the same
time that we were performing.

I think Nicola Adams got a gold medal

at exactly the same time
that I was performing one day.

It was a weird synchronicity.
Yeah.

Then we sold out for the rest of the run,
all thanks to Nicola Adams, really.

PAUL: And had you done any boxing
prior to writing the play?

CHARLIE: No, I started for research
just to see what it was like.

I mean, I'd had fights in a playground

and in a pub and stuff,
but I hadn't ever trained.

And, yeah, I just loved it.

There was something in my body that felt
really familiar, like, I was like, oh,

I don't know if this is in my family,
but I was like, I can really do this.

And it's very addictive and
it completely changed my life.

And I started competing and ended up

competing internationally
and won a national title.

PAUL: Wow.
CHARLIE: Yeah.

PAUL: Wow.
That's extraordinary.

CHARLIE: Really.

PAUL: Do you have - the title, obviously,

of the podcast - do you have any regrets
that you didn't suddenly pursue a boxing?

CHARLIE: There was a moment where if I'd fully
committed to it, I could have at least.

I mean, I had a trial for the English

boxing team and they said,
the England boxing team,

PAUL: Charlie, that's amazing,
CHARLIE: Mad right?

All for research for a play.

And they said, if you really commit

to this for a year and then come back next
year, then we'll monitor you again and see

if you're then ready
to compete for England.

But I think I'd got, like an acting job or

something and I was like, oh, yeah,
I was doing Romeo and Juliet at the RSC

and I was like, you can't do a big
gig like Romeo and Juliet and compete.

You just can't do it because you end
up with awful black eyes and all sorts.

I just thought, no, come on,
I actually want to make theatre.

I'm not really a boxer.

I just like it.

PAUL: Well, you were clearly better
than that, by the sound of it.

That's a brilliant.

You mentioned, you touch on the Romeo

and Juliet, directed
by wonderful Erica Whyman.

And I know that that was the kind of early

genesis conversations
around what became Cowbois.

But just before then,

I have to come clean because the Wi Fi
in my house is a bit struggling and I'm

doing this from my daughter Elsie's
bedroom at her desk while she's at school.

And you know this,

you've met her and she's an enormous
fan of you and your work.

And a part of the reason, I think,
why I was so desperate to be seen

for Cowbois was that Elsie and I
came to see I, Joan, at the Globe.

And it doesn't always happen this.

I think sometimes you have very different
feelings when you see something.

But she and I both adored I, Joan.

It was one of our theatre
highlights of the year.

Again, as I've told you, such a brilliant
reworking of a story and so theatrical.

I don't know how this happens,
but I really wanted to be one of them.

And Elsie was very honest.

She said, dad, even if you hadn't been

in it, I'd have gone
to Stratford to see the play.

Luckily, I managed to be in it.

But, I mean, interesting, obviously,

I Joan was a big play with a big cast
on a big scale,

and you've done Bitch Boxer and various
other plays, but what did it feel like

suddenly being at the Globe
with a big play of that size?

CHARLIE: I mean it was intimidating.

Yeah.

Like you said, I've written one person
shows, I've written sort of two handers.

I've performed in my own work quite a bit.

And then - the order
isn't as neat as it looks.

So Cowbois was commissioned
first from the RSC.

That came sort of end of 2019,

I think I wrote it in the pandemic
and then Joan came the year afterwards.

So I was doing a workshop day there.

It was the first time I'd left the house

in, like, a year,
and suddenly I was at the Globe

and Morgan Lloyd Malcolm had organised
this week of writers and I was fortunate

enough to be selected and we were just
sort of sat in the Globe having a chat

about what it could be like
to write for the Globe.

And she's a brilliant woman because she

really holds the door open once she's
stepped forward in this industry.

And after, Amelia, really,
I really feel like Joan's in conversation

with Amelia, like,
that they're cousins or something.

And I think they're part of a trilogy

and I feel like there's another
one coming from someone.

So they phoned me up.

I was in Asda and were like,
would you write a play about Joan of Arc?

I was like, yeah, go on then.

But, yeah, it was terrifying to write.

I really had to learn on the job how
to write for a big - you know,

I'm an actor, so I know how to write
a good scene, I know how to write a good

monologue, I know how to make an actor
excited to do a speech or to say a couple

of lines or to give them something
physical to do that's challenging or

exciting, I can do that bit,
but the sort of structuring

and the dramaturgy,
and I was very intimidated by it.

And I got some help from Sean Holmes,

actually, from Simon Stevens,
from Morgan Lloyd Malcolm.

I read that Stephen Jeffreys book
about 20 times, the one on playwriting.

Becky Latham at the RSC really
helped to write Cowbois.

And I think once I'd written sort of first

two drafts of Cowbois, I was like,
oh, I can write big plays.

So when they said, will you write Joan?

I was like, oh, I think I can do this.

But it was really hard.

And then Sarah Dickenson
was the dramaturg on that.

She was brilliant.

She helped me to write Bitch Boxer,
so it was nice to work with her again.

And, yeah, I had to just
really learn on the job.

But also, we had a deadline.

I mean, they asked me to write it

in September and it was
going on the next summer.

Do you know what I mean?
And there's something about the pressure

of, if I don't write this,
it won't get written.

That helps me to concentrate,

because it's like there are going to be
some actors standing on stage and I don't

want them to feel like a lemon,
like I want them to have something to do.

PAUL: I know what you mean, and I think
a deadline is very important.

Whatever role you have.

When we make our shows,
and most of our shows don't start

from scripts, they start from an idea
and we create it in the room.

But I always think there is
a good thing about a deadline.

Whatever position you're in,
to know in three weeks time we're

doing that, I will stand up in front
of some people and we will do this.

There's not a point of going, oh,
we're not going to do this anymore.

You're going to do it.

CHARLIE: It's very fast.

PAUL: It's a really important thing.

CHARLIE: Very slow in my experience of telly

and film, painfully slow,
but in theatre, it's really quick.

If you get asked to write quickly,
it could be on that year and again,

if an audience has left the house,
I mean, Covid taught us, didn't it?

It's a real privilege to have a live
audience and telly is really good.

So if you're leaving the house and you've

got a babysitter and you've got on the bus
or whatever, and you've paid a ridiculous

amount of money to come to the theatre,
I want to make it worth your time.

I want it to be.

PAUL: I couldn't agree more.
Absolutely.

And obviously
around Joan there was lots of other stuff

that people were talking about the show
in sometimes very negative ways.

I remember, obviously lots of people

who hadn't even seen the play
and it was so clear they hadn't seen

the play because what they were
saying is utterly ridiculous.

And you've touched on this a little bit,
but when all that is going on as well,

in the background, people saying negative
things and commenting and you're trying

to get that done,
how do you manage to keep the two things

or keep one at bay while
you focus on the work.

CHARLIE: I'm better at it now, again,
I had to learn on the job.

I knew before the Globe did

that the Daily Mail would write something
and people would explode on Twitter.

And I sort of tried to prep them
in advance and say, listen,

I think my version of Joan is non-binary
and I think some people will be very angry

about that because
I read the newspapers and there's a very

violent anti-trans rhetoric
going on at the moment in the UK.

And so I knew the reaction wouldn't be

jolly and warm from a certain
demographic of people.

And they sort of heard me and did a few
of my suggestions,

which mainly were collaborating
with Gendered Intelligence

and All About Trans who are these
incredible companies that can help you.

But it did explode.
Yeah.

Bloody hell.

I remember
I was walking up Hampstead Heath trying

to have a nice sort
of Sunday with my partner.

My phone just exploded with people going,
oh, God, I hope you're okay.

And I thought, well,
I was, what's happened?

And then my auntie phoned me.
She was in France.

She was like, you're
on the news in France.

And I was like, what?

We were on the news in France,
that in the UK, it was just crazy.

There was such a huge reaction and it

really wasn't about the play,
it was about everybody's fear around

gender and the trans debate, as we call it
in the culture wars and stuff like that.

It wasn't fun.

I really didn't enjoy it and I got

a lot of hate from people and learned very
quickly how to set security settings

on my instagram and things like that and
to make sure that I'm not contactable.

It all goes through my agent.

So I've learned
how to shut myself off from it.

And also, this might be useful to share,

is that I did really learn
what I am responsible for and what I'm not

as an artist and how to hear
feedback and how not to.

And it's the same as getting
reviews in a newspaper, really.

We all sort of hate reviews.

And it feels lovely when you get five
stars secretly, even though you're like,

I never read reviews, but you do, and then
it feels shit when you get two stars.

But I really had to learn
what feedback am I going to let in?

What is in service of the work,
what's in service of my mental health,

and to be really disciplined
with who I listen to and who I don't.

So now, every project I do,

I sort of sit down with a cup of tea
and write, who am I making this for?

And I have sort of five people that I'm
going to really care about their opinion.

And if you're not on my list,
I'm going to practise being neutral.

Like, I hope everyone has a great time,

for example, when they
come and see Cowbois.

But I'm really making it for five people.

And those five people

are the opinions that I'm going
to personally really invest in.

And if you're not one of my five, then
I'm politely neutral about your opinion.

PAUL: I totally get where you're coming from.

I remember years ago, we made our,

30 years ago, we made our first
show and luckily it was a success.

And I remember Simon McBurney coming
to see it, which for me was a big deal.

I was in awe of, Complicite,
very in awe of Simon and brilliantly

Hayley knew he was coming,
but hadn't told me because I think I'd

have had a meltdown if I
knew he was in the audience.

So she wisely knew I couldn't
handle it and didn't tell me.

Anyway, he liked the show,

which was a big deal for me, but he said
one thing that really stayed with me.

It's a really great show and you'll
go on and do other things.

He said the only thing I would say is,

choose your critics carefully
and it's exactly what you say.

And I thought that's a really interesting.

He said, you'll have everybody wanting
to tell you things about what you do,

but the people you listen to closely,
choose those people carefully.

CHARLIE: Yes, I love that, I'm writing that down.

PAUL: It's kind of what you're saying,
but I thought that phrase.

But now we come to the joy
that is Cowbois.

Because what I think,
having performed it for a while now

and enjoyed every single second of it,
and I don't want to think about it,

articulate it too much,
I just want to do it.

And that's my job as an actor is to do it

and not think about why it is,
you just present it.

But one can't help, given the reaction

every night,
is see the kind of effect it has.

And let's be honest,

all theatre doesn't have the effect
that maybe it intended to have.

And I've been in many of those shows!

Whereas an effect which is coming back

to your own words, quite visceral,
that tends to happen in Cowbois.

And the journey that an audience
goes in on - goes on.

And I think because, as I said,
your sense of theatre and your instinct is

so strong, the piece, for me,
remains endlessly entertaining,

so that the political things that are
going on and what they're discussing

for me land much more than if this
was a polemic where you were really.

It's not that it's coming under the radar,

but it's because we're
having a great night.

It feels that it lands more.

Does that connect with you as a writer?

CHARLIE: I mean, I definitely knew the audience
I was writing for when I wrote it.

I knew the architecture.

I mean, I was asked to write a play
for the Swan at the RSC,

and I knew the shape of that room and I
knew what it feels like to stand

on that stage, and I knew
who the audience would be.

And so I was really specific in writing
for them. You know I joan, for example,

could be more polemic because it needed
a moment of someone jumping off the stage

and ranting about gender
and twitter and turfs of Tories.

And that worked for that audience,
because there's no roof in that building

and it feels like a gig and there's people
standing up and you sort of want someone

to jump off the stage and be in your
face a bit and running around.

But that wouldn't work at the RSC.

It just wouldn't serve the - I guess it's
the dramaturgy, really, the choice of it.

So I knew that I wanted to write something
that would allow an opportunity for what

we call a turf and a Tory,
for them to come and watch it and be

surprised that they fall in love
with a protagonist who's a trans person.

Or they get a little queer awakening

in the back of their brain,
or they question their own relationship

with gender through
the character that you play.

I said to you in rehearsals,

there will be a lot of men in the audience
that relate to the sheriff

and will just hopefully have a moment
of allowing themselves to relax the kind

of rules that they're
stuck in around gender.

I'm not suggesting that they'll go and get
such a fabulous dress and hat as you,

but maybe they'll just soften slightly and
the world will be better for it, I think.

I'm really conscious
of writing for my stepdad.

John works in a factory
and reads the Sun newspaper.

He's a white man in his sixties and I

don't want him to feel stupid when he
comes to watch a play that's about

the trans experience or the queer
experience or even the female experience.

I want him to feel like
he can be open to that.

But also there will be a lot of young

trans people who are hungry
for the representation.

I'm writing for them as well.

And I'm writing for kind of cool theatre
makers who I hope are impressed

by the sort of form or the dramaturgy or
the style or something,

but also the people who've
just come for a good night out.

So I'm trying to
sort of write for everyone,

I guess, in a way, but at the risk
of diluting it, do you know what I mean?

You just got to do it
confidently with swagger I think.

PAUL: I think that you definitely do
that and you encourage us to do that.

And I think what you're talking
about is what theatre should be.

It should be able to hold lots
of different people in an audience.

Not just one group of people,
but all those different people.

And I think Cowbois, and maybe also
by going to the world of cowboys

and the genre of cowboys, it lets
people in in a different way sometimes.

And I spoke to audience who came, "well,

we just love, me and my wife just
love westerns, so that's why we came".

And then they kind of opened up
to something they didn't expect.

And obviously we talked a bit about movies

and obviously you steeped
in watching those westerns.

I have to ask one question that stuck
in my mind for rehearsal,

which is to do with movies, while
it suddenly came in my head.

I remember for some reason we mentioned

the movie, Some Like It Hot, and you said,
I love that film, but it's problematic.

And I never got the chance because we had

to carry on could you just elaborate
just slightly off of what you were.

CHARLIE: Yeah.
I love that film.

I love it so much.

It's one of my favourite films,
but it is problematic.

Like, there are these two white men

that are dressing up as women,
and in terms of representation,

I think we have to be very nuanced now and
delicate and aware of what we're doing.

I mean, we had this conversation,
didn't we, with the sheriff?

PAUL: Of course we did.

CHARLIE: Because trans women are women, and men

cross dressing is a very different thing.

But because we've been taught to laugh

at men in a dress, through Shakespeare,
through theatre, through film,

the impact that that can have on trans
women can be really damaging because our

brains can connect those dots
where they shouldn't be connected.

So I'm wary of that in that film.

And there's also some tricky sexual
politics stuff, I think,

around Marilyn Monroe that I
haven't quite put my finger on.

PAUL: Yes, I think there is.

I think there is.
I think there is.

Perhaps we should leave it there.
We should remember it.

CHARLIE: But the music.

I want to write something about jazz.

I was going to be a jazz musician when I

grow up and at some point
I'll get back to it.

But I'd love to write something about jazz

one day and just that sort of dreamy,
like the black and white.

Oh, it's just great.

It's great.

PAUL: You should.

Charlie, I could talk to you all day,

but you haven't gone all
day and neither have I.

But we will be talking very soon when

we're in the rehearsal room
and returning to it brilliantly.

I just had one final question, and again,
it might be too big a question.

You might not have thought about it,
but I just wondered if you could give one

piece of advice to your teenage self,
what would it be?

CHARLIE: I mean, they would not have listened

to me, Paul, let's be honest,
they really, really wouldn't.

I don't know, get on with it probably
would be - I spent quite a lot of time

moaning that people weren't
letting me do things.

And actually, I just needed to be
proactive and get on with stuff.

And also, there's something
about vulnerability.

I've struggled to let my guard down as
a human and as an artist, and I think,

actually, humans are really hungry for it,
and that it can be a beautiful and brave

thing to let yourself be seen
and to celebrate vulnerability.

So I try and put little moments
of that in my work now,

where characters can just show us
a little chink in their armour.

And they are always my favourite moments
in plays, so they just make me go as

an audience member, like, oh,
I can see behind the mask.

So I might have said something like

that to myself, but like I said,
I probably wouldn't have listened.

PAUL: Well, I think our listeners will

definitely want to listen to that because
it's a beautiful thing to finish on.

Charlie, thank you so much,
and I'll see you very soon.

CHARLIE: Yeah, see you soon.
Thank you.

PAUL: Dear listeners, if you've enjoyed this
Idiot podcast, please spread the word.