I’ve held off writing about Bunker Buddies because for the longest time all that mattered to me was just to get the play on stage and in front of an audience. And the journey we undertook in order to make that happen was immense and I needed a long break to process it afterwards. But I enjoyed every step along the way.
Dísa Andersen and Felix Ryder in Bunker Buddies. Picture by Ronja Siljander.
I first got the idea for Bunker Buddies after I watched a documentary on bunkers for the superrich, the not your average Joe doomsday preppers who can throw money at every eventuality, no matter how unlikely. It got me thinking and thus I started writing and Bunker Buddies was born.
Now the thing that struck me with Bunker Buddies was the inherent silliness of the whole show. I had never written comedy before, because I wasn’t sure if I would be any good at it to be honest. But I finished a rough draft of the show, I did readings with a few friends and they seemed to find it funny. And that emboldened me to keep going with it.
That being said the opportunity to stage it came by chance. I had reached out to The Bridge House Theatre team for a different project and decided on a whim to include Bunker Buddies in the application. Apparently they found it funny too because all of a sudden I found myself with a show programmed in their autumn season.
Assembling the production team was another challenge because as is often the case in fringe theatre there is never enough time and never quite enough money. As a working class theatre maker I felt embarrassed asking people to take part in a profit share because even when you are certain that tickets will sell, even when you know you have an audience out there excited about your work, there is a degree of risk involved. So I am so very grateful to Nea Cornér, Ronja Siljander, Felix Ryder and Luna Dai for taking a chance on this project and believing in me, even when I didnt believe in myself (yes I know its cringe and cliche to say this but its true!).
Dísa Andersen and Felix Ryder in Bunker Buddies. Picture by Ronja Siljander.
I learned a lot during this process. I learned that even though producing is immensely difficult and scary, mad respect to my producers out there, every show gets that little bit easier. I also found it difficult to get back on stage. Its scary to admit that because its all Ive wanted for so long, it’s the main reason I wrote this play in the first place, how dare I moan about it.
But I think its important that we talk about these things. Acting is a process and a never ending one at that. We are constantly learning and evolving. And its important to recognise that after a long time away from the stage I was truly terrified.
What if I wasn’t any good anymore? What if I forgot the blocking? I’ve always been nervous before a performance but I forgot just how terrifying it can be. Again I must thank the incredible team who helped me overcome it, reminding me of the importance to have fun and to tell the story. At the end of the day this wasn’t about me, it was about the story that we wanted to tell, and enjoying the privilege of being on stage telling it.
Felix Ryder and Dísa Andersen in Bunker Buddies. Picture by Ronja Siljander.
I think its important to write about these things. I think its important that we are open about how the industry works, and hurdles we face along the way. As a working class theatre maker, the idea of taking a month off my survival job was terrifying.
Some artists dont have to constantly think about how they are going to pay the rent and put food on the table as they work on their art. I think my background feeds into my art heavily and influences it and thus I think it is important that I talk about it. Talking about money is a faux pas in groups of people who have plenty of it, perhaps understandably so.
But if by talking about the intricacies of producing on a low budget I can help shed a light on the industry I will continue to do so. I used to believe I didnt belong in the room where it happens, where the movers and shakers make the theatre of the future. I now no longer believe that to be true. Minority groups should be instrumental in shaping the theatre of the future. We should be visible and our voice should be heard. Nothing about us without us.
So to summarise, Bunker Buddies is a silly comedy about the end of the world. But in a way it is so much more, because it was my gateway to believing in myself again.
And this isnt the last you’ve heard of Bunker Buddies so stay tuned.
