Shoot First

Jamie Eastlake: The Model Has Stopped Working?

I’m staring at a home screen with over a hundred tabs open and multiple spreadsheets scattered across it. My phone rings. It's our resident DJ, Sam—or DJane Danger, as she goes by. Sam called me up completely out of the blue during the first couple of months of opening Laurels.

“Have you got any DJs? Because I’m building a great record collection and would love to do some vinyl mixing.”

“Have you ever DJ’d before?” I asked.

“No, but I thought you might be the best person to call, and Laurels be the best place to start.”

Sam/DJane has played thirty gigs with us and gets other bookings elsewhere. She can call herself a professional DJ and also works for the NHS. We said yes to that first call because why would we say no?

“I’m ringing with good news”, Sam gasped.

“You’re the only one right now”, I say, staring at an outgoings column on my screen.

“You’re a finalist for a North East Culture Award. I put you forward, and they’ve called to say I wasn’t the only one, and you’re a finalist.”

We were a finalist last year. It’s a hell of an achievement because the North East is a vibrant place, so being at the top of a list means a lot. Last year we lost to our pals at Alphabetti Theatre, who are class. We were finalists alongside Beamish. The open-air Museum. I fucking love Beamish. Beamish had an income last year of £13,479,000. Laurels was £300,000. Beamish is nominated again with us.

“Ah, that's great news; I appreciate the call, Sam.”

The spreadsheets still loom large as I look back at my screen. Nominations are nice. Of course, they are. Winning is also lovely too. Been there and done that. But they don’t put the much-needed cash in the bank—my phone pings. There are 716 missed calls on the homepage. A text from an angry customer demanding a £2 refund as he was overcharged for a pint and a Coke. The same message pings up on my screen as an email. God, he’s angry. I checked the chain of emails; a refund was actioned a week ago. I check the bank. Said £2 has left the account and went back to the customer. The bank account balance strains on the screen. Ouch.

“Hi, again, we are very sorry about the mistake. A refund was sent to your account a week ago. Regards”

Thanks for supporting the arts.

A week ago, I was sitting in a packed 1300-seat theatre, watching a show I created to get its final standing ovation of the run it had just finished. What a ride. The show started at Laurel's. The old social club we took over nearly 4 years ago and made it into a fringe theatre. The roof leaks heavily. The landlord refuses to fix it. The walls sweat beer sometimes. The cellar is too small to accommodate said beer, sometimes allowing the dregs to go through the floorboards and run into the stairwell. Delicious. Everything looks half-arsed, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Time and cash are incredibly scarce.

Doing things by half isn’t how we tackled Laurels at all. Honestly, it isn’t how I’ve tackled anything in the 14 years I’ve built a career. “Shoot first, ask questions later” is how James Bond is described in the 2002 “classic" Die Another Day. That must have stuck when my Mam took me to see it when I was 10. (She fancied Pierce, naturally) And currently, I’m stuck in a rock and a hard place with that mantra running a fringe theatre. I genuinely believe that you can pull off the impossible with a ton of graft and risk and a die-another-day attitude. But right now, in this climate, It’s feeling nearly impossible (I’m resisting a Mission Impossible reference here). From the outside, everyone thinks we’ve just had a commercial hit, and the theatre and myself are rolling in it. It couldn’t be further from the truth. The reality is that our risk and attitude allowed a commercial success that filled a hole in the survival of Laurels. It’s knife-edge stuff all the time. And we aren’t the only ones. The sector is currently at breaking point.

My email pings again. “Electric bill to view” We had a show last month, so I know how this goes. 30% higher than usual. Excellent. I edited the forecast spreadsheet I have opened. The forecast spreadsheet is open constantly. I have to manage finances daily because the shoot-first mantra backfired in the opening of the building. Bad advice meant our budget had to triple to open the building in time. This meant that from Day 1, the cash flow would be tight. About 12 months ago, we sorted it, though. A lot of hard work and tenacity allowed us a buffer. Over the 12 months, that buffer disappeared. The model that we had nailed just stopped working. Thankfully, behind the scenes, we had a potential commercial hit. Talk about knife edge.

I’m feeling like I’m rambling. I wasn’t sure why I started to write these thoughts down, but I found that many people were asking at the minute.

“How's it going?” and “It’s tough right now, isn’t it?”

So, I just wanted to put something down on paper to say to everyone:

“Aye, it is. It really is.”

Right now, the industry feels like it has stopped working. The model has stopped working. Years of underfunding, local authority stripping, and a battle between live and recorded media. An awful us vs them with artists and organisations. A little note today is that all the little places are mainly just artists trying to survive(Except with more considerable overheads, so be kind). The commercial model is thriving, but the grassroots is becoming bare. Where does the work come from to allow the whole thing to continue, which doesn’t rely solely on work only from posh kids? We all know the success stories of “The Fringe.” They’re all posh kids. How do we allow the commercial world to prop up the fringe to enable all stories to break through and, in turn, give them the work?

I’m rambling again, I think. Maybe.

My email pings again.

“I’ve been able to propose to our editorial board and am really delighted to tell you that they’ve approved.”

A pitch we made for a writer has just secured her first publishing deal. Great news.

I edit the forecast again to include the order of play texts we’ll now be ordering.

Shoot first. Ask questions later.

Sod it, now is the time to ask those questions.

Jamie Eastlakes' recent play ‘Gerry & Sewell’ played to critical acclaim as a co-production between Laurels and The Newcastle Theatre Royal.

Laurels is a fringe theatre in North Tyneside and has recently became a charity. www.laurelswhitley.co.uk