Thank you for your interest in the 2017 Young Actors Studio. Entry to the course is by audition. We are looking for people with talent, commitment and a curiosity about the creative process. Prior to the audition Prepare for performance one of the following theatrical monologues. On the day You will: Perform your prepared pieces Demonstrate collaborative skills Please arrive at least 15 minutes before your audition and wait for your session to be called. Auditions are conducted in a group everyone is in the room throughout the whole process. You are required to stay for the whole audition time. Things to remember Research and rehearse your performance beforehand Wear comfortable, non-restrictive clothing You may be asked to work in bare feet Be prepared to collaborate with others No other food or drink is permitted in our rehearsal rooms, except bottled water If you have further questions regarding the audition process, please email us at open@nida.edu.au or call (02) 9697 7626.
PUNK ROCK By Simon Stephens CHADWICK Human beings are pathetic. Everything human beings do finishes up bad in the end. Everything good human beings ever make is built on something monstrous. Nothing lasts. We certainly won't. We could have made something really extraordinary and we won't. We've been around one hundred thousand years. We'll have died out before the next two hundred. You know what we've got to look forward to? You know what will define the next two hundred years? Religions will become brutalised; crime rates will become hysterical; suicide will become fashionable; there'll be famine; there'll be floods; there'll be fires in the major cities of the Western world. Our education systems will become battered. Our health services unsustainable; our police forces unmanageable; our governments corrupt. There'll be open brutality in the streets; there'll be nuclear war; massive depletion of resources on every level; insanely increasing third-world population. It's happening already. It's happening now. Thousands die every summer from floods in the Indian monsoon season. Africans from Senegal wash up on the beaches of the Mediterranean and get looked after by guilty liberal holidaymakers. Somalians wait in hostels in Malta or prison islands north of Australia. Hundreds die of heat or fire every year in Paris. Or California. Or Athens. The oceans will rise. The cities will flood. The power stations will flood. Airports will flood. Species will vanish forever. Including ours. So if you think I'm worried by you calling me names, Bennet, you little, little boy, you are kidding yourself.
PUNK ROCK By Simon Stephens LILLY Yeah. We all get scared William. Sometimes the world is a bit unnerving. Some people do awful things but, and you need to listen to this William, seriously, most of the time the world is all right. You need to get that into your head and stop moping about. Most people are all right. They're funny. They chat a bit. They tell jokes. They're kind. They're all right. You know, ninety nine per cent of the people in the school are perfectly good people. Ninety nine per cent of the young people in this country, William, and nobody ever says this, ninety nine percent of the young people in this country do a really good job at the actual work of being alive. They'll survive. Happily. They'll grow up. They'll end up doing jobs. Being married. Living lives which are perfectly good and reasonable and all right and happy ones. That's not a bad thing William. You know? What makes you think you're any different? What makes you think you're so special? Listen to me. I'm trying to tell you something. When I was ten I used to get headaches. They were properly fierce. It used to feel as though the front of my head was being carved in two. They could really bring tears to my eyes. I didn't tell my mum about them for weeks But after about two weeks I did. I told her. She took me to the doctor and the doctor gave me some aspirin and told me to drink more water and get some more fresh air and to eat less sugar and so I did and the headaches went away. Maybe you should tell somebody. I'm sorry I didn't want to go out with you. I wanted to go out with Nicholas instead. I really love him. But I always thought you'd be my mate. And I would still really like to be in spite of everything. Because actually I think you're not that well and I'm worried about you and I want to get you some help.
DNA by Dennis Kelly MARK We went up the grille. You know, that shaft up there on the hill. Just a big hole really, hole with a grille over it, covering, just to see if he d climb the fence, really and he did, and we thought, you know, he s climbed the fence which we didn t think he d do so walk, you know, walk on the grille, Adam, walk on the, and he did, he s walked on, you know, wobbling and that but he s walking on the grille and we re all laughing and he s scared because if you slip, I mean it s just blackness under you, I mean it s only about fifteen foot wide or so, but it might be hundreds of feet into blackness, I dunno, but he s doing it, he s walked on the grille. He s on the grille. He is And someone s pegged a stone at him. Not to hit him, just for the laugh. And you should have seen his face, I mean the fear, the, it was so, you had to laugh, the expression, the fear So we re all peggin them. Laughing. And his face, it s just making you laugh harder and harder, and they re getting nearer and nearer. And one hits his head. And the shock on his face is so funny. And we re all just Just Really chucking these stones into him, really hard and laughing and he slips. And he drops. Into. Into the er... So he s So he s So he s JOHN TATE: Dead. He s dead.
SPEAKING IN TONGUES By Andrew Bovell SARAH I'm a little nervous. A little upset.i saw somebody from my past. This guy I once knew. This guy I once lived with. For maybe a year. Maybe a little longer. I can't really remember.you see, it never meant much to me. It was a relationship. One among many. And I don't do well with relationships. But you know that. That's why I've come to see you. His name is Neil. Neil Toohey. And once he had asked me to marry him. And I said yes. Not because I wanted to. But because he wanted me to. I think I hurt this guy. But I can't believe he didn't move on. I mean, we're big people now, we get hurt and we move on. At least, I do. Now, after all these years, he wants to know why? I mean, I could write and tell him I could write and say I'm sorry, but I never loved you. That's just something you wanted to believe in. I was twenty-three years old. Your talk of love and marriage didn't mean anything to me. I mean, that's why I went to America. To get away from you. To end it. Didn't you understand that? Maybe I should have told him all that when I left, but really, do you think he would have believed me? Even if I could, even if I had the words, the understanding to know what was happening, do you think he would have believed me? Anyway, it takes courage to be cruel and I don't have that. You know, I think the problem with this guy is that he's lazy. He's just too lazy to move on. Either that or he just likes pain. I mean, what I want to know is, what I really want to know is, does he still have the right to love me? Don't I have a say in that?
Romeo & Juliet By William Shakespeare JULIET Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? That villain cousin would have killed my husband. Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring! Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then? Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murd'red me. I would forget it fain; But O, it presses to my memory Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds! 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished!' That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,' Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death Was woe enough, if it had ended there; Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship And needly will be ranked with other griefs, Why followed not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,' Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, Which modern lamentation might have moved? But with a rearward following Tybalt's death, 'Romeo is banished'--to speak that word Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished'-- There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.
MEASURE FOR MEASURE By William Shakespeare ANGELO Who will believe thee, Isabel? My unsoil d name, the austereness of my life, My vouch against you, and my place i th state Will so your accusation overweigh, That you shall stifle in your own report, And smell of calumny. I have begun, And now I give my sensual race the rein: Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite; Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes, That banish what they sue for. Redeem thy brother By yielding up thy body to my will; Or else he must not only die the death, But thy unkindness shall his death draw out To lingering sufferance. Answer me tomorrow, Or, by the affection that now guides me most, I ll prove a tyrant to him. As for you, Say what you can: my false o erweighs your true.