Play Talk: David Greig on telling the truth, his biggest set-back and how one of his plays has made marriages

Dramatist David Greig has been a prolific writer of startling, humane plays, from The Events, looking at how the aftermath of a massacre impacts on a community, to supernatural tale The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart. And he's an extremely busy man too - since last year he's been artistic director of the Royal Lyceum Theatre in Edinburgh, and now he has two shows opening in London: his adaptation of The Lorax is returning to the Old Vic, and his version of The Suppliant Women will be at the Young Vic next month.

What was the first play to make you want to write plays?

I didn’t really want to write plays, as such. I started out making and devising work with friends at university. My writing grew accidentally out of that. But just as I was beginning to get my foothold in writing I saw Shining Souls by Chris Hannan at The Traverse in Edinburgh. It was lyrical, poetical, chaotic, magical, sentimental, and funny. That was the play that made me proud of the idea of being a writer. I wanted to make plays like that.

Buy tickets for The Lorax with Evening Standard Tickets

What was your background to becoming a playwright?

I joined Edinburgh Youth Theatre aged 15 and I immediately fell in love with actors… with some specific actors but also with actors generally; actors as an idea. Actors are the most exciting, interesting, sexy, glamorous people. When you’re with them you never know what’s going to happen next. And making plays was more fun than anything else I had ever done. But I was a terrible actor. So, I thought, how can I carry on doing this? I did a drama degree at Bristol University. I directed work, devised work, did sound and lighting… but eventually writing found me. It was a process of elimination.

What’s the hardest play you’ve ever written?

The Events was pretty hard. The subject matter was so sad. I felt a moral responsibility not to exploit or cheapen the experience of survivors of the type of event the play describes. It was grim to spend so much time in close proximity to evil. Fortunately, a lot of the writing was done during the tech rehearsals for Charlie and The Chocolate Factory so whenever I raised my head from the laptop there was music or song or silliness or delight happening… so that helped.

Which brought you the most joy?

Midsummer! It was written as a laugh with my friend Gordon Macintrye of the band Ballboy. We wanted to do the sort of rom-com indie musical we would love to see ourselves. We made a rule. 'Only if it’s fun. If it’s no fun, don’t carry on doing it.' Then we got Cora Bisset and Matthew Pidgeon on board and the sense of fun continued. When we made it we thought we’d play to a few hundred people in Edinburgh in Traverse 2. In the end the show has played in America, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Germany, France, Korea… it lives on and on. Many of the people who have been involved in making Midsummer, in our version or in others, end up getting married. There’s a good few Midsummer babies. Pure joy.

Which playwrights have influenced you the most?

Michel Vinaver and Douglas Maxwell.

What is your favourite line or scene from any play?

Ooogh that’s so hard! My favourite line is from Crave by Sarah Kane: ‘Death is my boyfriend, and he’s moving in.’ My favourite scene is in Charlie Sonata by Douglas Maxwell when the alcoholic Charlie Sonata teaches his god-daughter the rules of drinking and promises to be her guardian angel. I cried every single time I saw it. I still cry thinking about it. I also love in The Winter’s Tale when Hermione comes back to life.

What’s been the biggest surprise to you since you’ve had your writing performed by actors?

I never cease to be surprised. It’s a perennial joy to see what actors bring to a line. I love it when they defend my own work from me. When I want to cut something, or change a line that feels wrong and the actor defends it. That’s when the character comes alive. The character is no longer part of you. A new creature is born with a will of its own. I love that.

What’s been your biggest setback as a writer?

I don’t think I’ve had anything I would count as a set-back. I’ve been very lucky. I’ve made a living and fed my kids for 25 years. That’s all I could ever have wanted. It hurts when a play is badly reviewed, or it closes for lack of audience, but you get over it. Writing itself kills me, though. Each new play feels like it’s my last. For some reason I can’t write without the feeling that this is it. It’s finally all over. I’ve been found out. The process of writing is emotionally very costly. So… maybe… I am my own biggest set-back as a writer.

And the hardest lesson you’ve had to learn?

You can’t fake it. Whether it's a big musical, or tiny monologue, a new play or an adaptation, you have to strip naked when you write. It’s a bit sordid. But that’s that. You have to tell the truth and if you don’t, it will be s***.

What do you think is the best thing about theatre? And the worst?

The best: the rehearsal room. The worst: reading your own reviews.

What’s your best piece of advice for writers who are starting out?

First apply seat of pants to chair. If you can get to The End of any play you will have catapulted yourself from being one of the many millions of people who ‘might’ write a play into being one of the very few who ‘have written’ a play. If you can get to The End it is very likely that something will come of it… even if it’s just a meeting, a reading, contact with a theatre. Something good will happen.

Are there any themes and stories you find yourself re-visiting with your plays?

... loneliness, bringing people back from the dead, hotel rooms, the devil being sad but sexy, shamanic healing...

Are you on Twitter? Do you find it a help or a hindrance as a writer?

I am on Twitter and I love it but I find it a deep hindrance as a writer. Little hits of dopamine take energy and focus away from the big hit of finishing a play. Twitter stops me daydreaming. I can just flick on my phone and my brain is occupied. No idle time staring out of a window, or in a supermarket queue… so ideas find it harder to emerge. Also, Twitter is a very snarky, judgemental place. It’s like hanging round with all the cool bitchy kids at school and then - with them all around you - suggesting we can take out the Lego and make a spaceship. It’s just not the right environment. I’m trying to take time away from Twitter. Having said that, as a resource for humans I love it. It’s been wonderful for me in many ways. But no, it’s as bad for my mental health as smoking was to my physical. Mind you, I loved smoking. Still dream of it.

How did you write your new play?

Very quickly and in rhyming couplets!

How do you spend opening night?

I never dress up for opening night. That’s a superstition since I was a baby writer. Every time I’ve dressed up the reviews have been poor. So I always wear the same clothes as I’ve been wearing during rehearsal. Big glass of brandy. Watch play. Hold my wife’s hand all the way through the show.

What’s the best play you’ve seen this year?

The Whip Hand by Douglas Maxwell.

What’s your favourite place to watch theatre in London?

Got to be the Old Vic. It’s glamorous. It’s historic. It’s got lovely bars. It looks like how a proper theatre should look.

What other art forms do you love when you’re not in a theatre?

Poetry is my secret vice. I also like stand up comedy.

If the Prime Minister said they were abolishing the theatre tomorrow, what would you do?

No doubt you would find me up in the hills with my grandfather's old flint-lock, writing propaganda plays for the resistance, and sabotaging railway lines.

Dr Seuss’s The Lorax opens at the Old Vic on 24 October with previews from 15 October; oldvictheatre.com