In the Wolves’ play “When Icebergs burn”, that was directed by the great Aarne Neeme, a father trapped in a bush hut with his daughter who is wanted by the police hears a distant dog howl.
Did you hear that? He says as he comes to the window. I’ve been hearing them all week.
Then another dog joins in and then a few more.
Are they dingoes? his daughter asks.
No, they’re wild dogs. I’ve read about them. They’re unwanted pets that people have dumped, but instead of dying they found each other and formed packs. They remembered, that underneath this, (and he rips open his shirt,) that they are still Wolves. Then for good measure, he throws back his head and howls.
Lots of things happen in all our lives that appear to take us off the road we wanted or felt we were destined to travel. Sometimes the detour is duty, i.e. children to raise, sometimes it is fear, or tragedy or a mix of all three. But then you reach middle age and realise that you’ve reached the end of these detours. Your children no longer need you as much, if you are lucky perhaps your house is paid off, and society as general seems to have compartmentalized you into a crowded box labeled, has-beans.
The father in “When Icebergs Burn” was played by Christopher Grant who also plays the character 379 in the play Marooned, a role he has owned ever since he joined The Wolves. Yet Chris, a grandfather, didn’t take up acting until he was 48. Now, thanks to Marooned he’s performed in The MTC’s Lawler Theatre and toured to several regional towns, and in 2020 he and Marooned have some major tours to undertake. (More on this soon)
Now even though The Wolves currently have and have had some brilliant young actors working with us, it is the passion of the fifty plus group that I find infectious.
The mission of the Wolves is to prove, to our ageist society, that mature creatives can be original, challenging and pertinent, and while our egos have mellowed, and our hunger for fame has long stopped being our driving force, our desire to create is as keen if not keener than ever.
And we are onto something.
All our plays are original and they are never boring. They are full or relatable humour, conflict, tragedy and hope and they all challenge the moral fascism of our time. Together we tackle any issue that burns us, with most of these issues being the problems facing many people over forty-five.
So the question I’m asking, is there a similar hunger in you? A gnawing need to leave the comfortable routines and take a few risks. Risks that might see you publicly fail and yet, through failing challenge you to try again. If so, why not come and check us out, no promises of course, but in an industry that is notoriously exclusive The Wolves are now howling to all the leashed wild dogs.
Michael Gray Griffith