Reminiscences of Floatykatja (Pt 2)

My next meeting with Katja was in 1996, in a production of Thoroughly Modern Millie at the Eddie Royle Out Of Eastenders Memorial Theatre on the Old Kent Road. I was playing James Fox and she was playing Mrs Meers, by day the proprietress of a hotel for young ladies, by, erm, day as well an evil white slaver, drugging the young ladies for sale to the Eastern markets. Katja made this part her own.

A busy girl, she had the hots for Robert de Niro, Paul Newman, Dustin Hoffman, James Dean, Marlon Brando and Al Pacino. As a consequence, she studied the Lee Strasberg Method, immersing herself in her role, becoming the mysterious Mrs Meers.

Not only did this lead to a highly successful and critically acclaimed performance, but also, by February 1997, Katja had sold 44 girls aged between 17 and 25 into slavery in Bangkok, Seoul, Beijing and Kyoto. A further 121 were reported to have been sedated and kidnapped, but escaped when a cargo ship chartered by Katja ran aground off the coast of Madagascar. Furthermore, a staggering 1,007 girls were found in seven laundry trucks parked around the back of the theatre on the day she was finally arrested.

She got off on a technicality.

by jimmypanic

Reminiscences of Floatykatja (Pt 1)

I first met Katja in the Summer of 1994. The Shoreditch Youth Amateur Non-Professional Unskilled Players were putting on a production of Macbeth, and I was there trying to bribe the director to slip me in as Birnam Wood’s fourth tree from the left.

Katja was backstage, waiting for her call. She was playing one of the three witches. She had blackened teeth, wild grey hair, a hunchback and hooked nose. Clearly, she wouldn’t be needing any make-up.

We had time for a quick chat about the vagaries of the actor’s life, the kipping on friends’ floors, the weeks of waiting, that unfortunate business with the guinea pig and the garlic press. Then her call came, and she was off to ply her craft. I shouted after her to ‘break a leg!’.

I visited her in hospital the next day. Her leg was hoisted up to the ceiling and all the blood had run to her head. ‘You match your grapes,’ I said. ‘You blend in like a true thespian. I thought you were that fellow’s piles for a sec.’. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

by jimmypanic

My Best Friend’s Wedding

My best friend got married yesterday. It’s a very strange feeling. We’ve known each other since we were 14, which was the cause for much misty-eyed reminiscence yesterday, exacerbated by the fact that my parents and two of my brothers were there as well. Ali practically lived at our house for years, and it really struck home when she turned to my younger brother, who is now 6′3″ tall with rugby-players’ shoulders, and pointed out that when they first met he was a skinny little 10 year old. Yikes.
It was lovely to see her parents, who currently live in France and who, as a result, I haven’t seen for 7 years. The last time I saw them I looked quite different and they therefore both had to do a double-take to realise it was me. It was great to be able to catch up, though – her dad is absolutely hilarious and managed to make his speech last 25 minutes, without once boring anyone. I only know it was that long because we were running a book on how long the speeches would last – 54 minutes from first to last word, and my eldest brother won hands down with his guess of 56 minutes. The rest of us had been far too conservative with our guesses and most were knocked out of the running by the end of the first speech!

I managed to hold it together during the ceremony and most of the speeches; but when in Ali’s speech she said thank you to her ‘best friends in the whole wide world, Liz and Kate’ I confess to having to blink very hard and swallow down about 10 lumps in my throat. There’s a trite little poem by Joseph Parry which we used to write in each other’s memory books at school, which didn’t mean an awful lot at the time, but I thought of it yesterday: as with all things cliched, there is more than a grain of truth in it.

Make new friends, but keep the old;
Those are silver, these are gold.
New-made friendships, like new wine,
Age will mellow and refine.
Friendships that have stood the test–
Time and change–are surely best;
Brow may wrinkle, hair grow gray;
Friendship never knows decay.
For ‘mid old friends, tried and true,
Once more we our youth renew.