The show

They say write about what you know, so in my case it's about having car issues. A lot of friends have been kind enough to say that I'm just "so unlucky" when it comes to cars, but the reality is that I've probably made a few foolish decisions over the years, too. I mean, not everything comes down to luck, be it good, or bad, surely?

Earlier this year, when I was sat in a cold Cambridge side street waiting for the AA, I realised that every car I've own marks a chapter in my life. Relationships, career, aspirations, even how I wanted to be perceived (hey, let's buy a Mercedes because then people would think I'm a lot more successful than I actually am...that one didn't quite last a year). These chapters make up my adult life, the highs, the lows, the adventures, the disasters, the...trying. I've had a lot of scrapes over the years, more than most. But, whilst I've never actually scraped a car or, touch wood, had a crash, the cars seem to echo where I'm at. When car number 10 imploded spectacularly earlier this year, I very much saw it as a sign that I couldn't maintain this 7 day a week, excessive lifestyle of all work and no play. It was like my Ford Kuga was trying to tell me something. 

So, this is a show about cars. But it's really not about cars. 

House shows, then.

I've been around a long time. I've taken over twenty productions to the Edinburgh Fringe, I've toured, a lot, I've had shows open in New York, I've had plays I've written performed by other people all over the world. I'm well published, I'm a very lucky boy. I've been in films, I've been lucky enough to win a few international awards. Yet, I'd still say about 70% of what I do, certainly theatrically, goes under the radar, my average audience size often not hitting double figures. I'm honestly fine with this, I'm well aware that there isn't room for everyone and there's a lot of wonderful creatives out there doing brilliant things...we're all fighting for the same audience. Well, they are, I'm just crap at marketing. 

Which is why I love house shows. 

You don't have to hire a venue. You don't have to count every audience member, working out that each one is worth roughly a fiver and that, even though you've got a decent turnout you're still gonna make a loss despite working really, really hard. You just turn up, and do your thing. From an audience point of view it's pretty risk free; no expensive drinks at the bar, the host will typically only invite people they like. The show comes to you. Of course, it's a bit of an experience - it's all a bit close, after all. I'm quite loud and I have massive hands, but the surprise element of that wears thin after a few minutes and it's like you're at a theatre, or comedy club, but with comfier seats.

I've been performing house shows for about 15 years, mostly as an easy way to run my Edinburgh Fringe shows. I love them, I've made a lot of friends in the process. But unlike those shows, this one won't go to Edinburgh, nor will it ever go public. If you want to see the show, you either have to book me or have a friend who does. It's like our little secret.

I'm having a lovely time with it, I'm not restricted to 60 minutes and, as I write this, I'm two performances in and it's the most relaxed I've ever felt on 'stage'. 

Naturally, as I've put quite a lot of work into this one, I want to perform it a lot. A hundred times. The show will evolve, and we'll have a lot of fun along the way. Hence this blog: 100 performances, 100 different houses. I'll write a show report for every performance on here. 

If you'd like the show in your house, ping me an email (thepaulrichards AT gmail.com). I've vowed to do this show ANYWHERE. If you want it, I'll be there. I may regret that decision further down the line...