Grumio Speaks.

It's all well and good having a back-story, I hear you say, but what if two characters, that spend time on stage together, that have some sort of 'history', have back-stories that don't gel. Won't that cause confusion?
Yes..and no. Maybe.
Nothing's as simple as that: as in life, so in the world of the back-story!
A back-story is there to help the actor answer those actor's questions (see Rich's entry 'Petruchio - What's In A Backstory') and give the actor a foundation to build his characterisation upon. It's about thinking how a person might react to any given situation, taking in to account his/her history.
Conversely, if two people who have a 'history' have wildly differing back-sotries, there maybe a conflict between their reactions to any given situation, so it would obviously be helpful if their 'histories' had a degree of similarity at certain key points. 
There should be similarities, for instance, between Katherina's back-story and Bianca's; Tranio and Lucentio (who, in some ways, mirror Petruchio and Grumio) should likewise have major points in their back-stories that meet and agree.
But the great thing about this back-story thing, as Jilly so rightly observed, is that nobody can tell you you're wrong! 
It's your back-story, your thoughts on what has gone before to make the character the way s/he is.
Grumio is Petruchio's manservant and comrade-in-arms, so using the above 'formula', they needs must have points in their stories that agree. 

Grumio's Tale

Well, it was a happy ending eventually, but it’s taken him twenty odd years to get there; and I’ve been with him, behind him and beside him pretty much every step of the way…including that nasty little skirmish with that other lot that cost him most of his mates and a good percentage of his men.

Then my old master, his father, Antonio up and died. It’s not been a good few years, I can tell you.

Haven't got any pictures of Grumio rehearsing yet, so this will have to do.
Me doing the pointy-thing, directing 2013's 'King Lear'

Here’s the thing though. My old man served Antonio all his life and I was there, not much more than a lad myself, when Petruchio was born. So I’ve sort of looked out for him since the day he could walk. Both our Mothers died around the same time and when my father died (too hammered to get out the ditch he fell into on the way back from the inn – silly sod drowned in three inches of water) Antonio kept me on, gave me the old man’s cottage and told me to stay and keep the grounds like dad had done. And of course, Petruchio was there, waddling, then running and playing, then strutting and fawning, then actually growing up (a bit) and starting to take on the job of running his father’s estate and farms. Then came the war.

Antonio knew his son wanted to go (Trooch – s’what I called him when he was younger – was always a hot head when he was around eighteen or so. The fights I’ve broken up with some of the estate lads don’t bear thinking about!) so he bought him a commission and off young Trooch went to war. And me along with him.  Well Antonio needed somebody with a sensible head on his shoulders (so Antonio said anyway) to keep an eye on him. But he turned out to be a good soldier. Made a lot of mates and his men loved him.

We had some scrapes; but then he lost the Flagoneers.  That’s what he called the troop…they all carried their leather flagons that he’d brought em, with their names on em. That’s when I really needed to keep an eye on him. He resigned his commission and headed back to the estate.

Didn’t seem to do much else but drink n wench for a while, but then he started to come round a bit, although he was always angry. He’d turn on a sous before he went away, but now? I stopped him getting killed back at home more times than he’d been in danger during the war! 

Just when you think you’re getting out of the thickest part of the forest, eh? Antonio upped and died.

By a-lakin I tried, by my sainted ol’ mum I did, but after that, on top of everything else, he just went mad. Drinkin’, spendin’ money like there was no tomorrow…and fightin’? I’ll show you the scars if you like. No, my scars. So I sat him down one time, one of the rare times he was actually sober, and gave him the sort of talking to his old dad might have done, in the old days. Cuffed him round the head too. He cried. I cried. He punched me. I belted him again; told him he wasn’t so big or so ugly as I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, if he needed it. Well, it seemed to work. But it sorta changed our relationship a bit. Became more master and servant, if you follow, but I can still take liberties sometimes. We don’t talk about that much anymore.

Still directing...up at the castle with the Bedlam Beggars, rehearsing.

Time passed and eventually there comes the day when Claudio Ferrini comes to call…he’s the family lawyer y’know. Him and Trooch’re cloistered up for hours. Ferrini comes out the house and I’m accidently weeding round the borders. He calls me over, puts an arm round me shoulder and we walked down the drive to where his carriage’s waiting. He might be a bit of an arse, but old Ferrini’s got Trooch’s best interests at heart. Didn’t make pleasant listening, I can tell you.

Anyway, the upshot was that the estate was so close to going bust that Trooch was going have to either flog the family silver and the lands (pissed it all up the wall basically) to be able to actually keep the house. Ol’ Ferrini suggested that we might take a sabbatical, maybe to Firenza or Padua, and maybe I could have a talk to the lad. As he was getting into the coach, Ferrini also said that he’d mentioned to Trooch that he might want to think about finding himself a wife with a dowry. Honestly? My first thought was ‘Oh shit, here we go again!’

Ferrini talking about Padua got me to thinking about our old mate from the army days, old Hortensio. 

So I suggested – I can be subtle when the mood takes – that Trooch n I pay Hortensio a surprise visit. I sort of hoped that Hortensio might be able to talk some sense into Trooch, y’know? Seems now that it was probably Hortensio that needed some sense pummelling into him.

It would seem that Trooch needed money more than Ferrini was letting on. I was sort of hoping that we’d go to Padua, sort it all out somehow then head home so I could tend to me own bit of romantic business. Columbina’s a mouthy tart, but she’s got a heart of gold…among other things, if you catch me drift!

Now, everything seems to be on an even-keel, but then? I tell you, I was wishing we’d never heard of the Minola’s, let alone that hell-cat that was old Baptista’s eldest daughter: Katherina. She was the female of version of him!!

Suffice to say I helped as much as I could, but it wasn’t easy. And then there was all that set-to with those other clowns and Minola’s youngest daughter, Bianca. That’s where Hortensio needed a bloody good slap! It got more complicated than one of them courtly dances you see at weddings.

But as we started in on his plan – although I couldn’t see just how you could tame a gobby, stroppy cow like Kate – he started to change. I mean, it all hinged on him getting a decent dowry, which he did, but as we got further along the road, he seemed to change. And so did she. I like to think I helped a little.

It’s all worked out in the end though. Trooch n I are back on a civil path, I know where I stand and so does he, she’s a bloody angel in comparison, I’m back home copping grief from her in doors and Trooch n Kate are off testing the strapping and horsehair mattress in some inn or other as they tour round on their honeymoon. Oh yeah! And he won twenty thousand crowns as well as the dowry, so looks like the old homestead’s as safe as it’s likely to be. Old Antonio’d be proud of us!

Nice hair cut!

And that, as they say, is that: Grumio, giving you (and Petruchio, Hortensio et al) an idea as to why he does what he does and gets away with it!

More back-stories and up-dates from the front-line as and when they happen.

If you want more information about us as a company, or the things we've done in the past, or intend to do in the future, have a look at our web-site:

www.theinntheatrecompany.co.uk

Loads more stuff there, including some truly spectacular photographs that out friend Keith Gould takes every year - not only of rehearsals but the actual production too. Well worth a look.