OTwo Interviews: Matthew Sharpe

Image Credit: Matthew Sharpe

Oisín Gaffey sits down with Matthew Sharpe, a playwright and actor from Whitehead, Northern Ireland to discuss his most recent Dublin Fringe Production, 'I've Always Liked The Name Marcus'

Matthew Sharpe is an actor from Whitehead; a small town on the east coast of Northern Ireland, about 30 minutes from Belfast. Four weeks ago, Sharpe brought his newest project, I’ve Always Liked The Name Marcus, to Dublin for the annual Fringe Festival where he enjoyed a four-day run in the Smock Alley Theatre.  

The one-man play follows Marcus, a mixed-race aspiring actor on a journey of self discovery as he navigates secondary school and early adulthood in Northern Ireland. We watch Marcus try on numerous different personalities as he looks to find himself. 

Race, identity and multi-rolling are the central features of this play, as Sharpe embodies seven versions of Marcus. Hilarious, yet poignant, Sharpe’s play had the audience in stitches at times, whilst questioning their own identity at others.

I sat down with Sharpe to discuss his most recent performance at Dublin Fringe and what’s next for the northern actor and writer.


What was your inspiration behind writing the show?

“I haven't been on stage since 2019. I didn't know what to write about, my mentor at the time, who actually was the director of the show, and we were just kind of going through stuff, and I was saying, you know, I want to write this show, I want to get back in the theatre, but I don't want to do anybody else's play.

I don't want my first time to step on that stage to be words that somebody else has written. I want them to be my own words, and I want to challenge myself with a one-man show as well. So, I think it's that thing where you always write about what you know, right? 

Originally the idea was a guy on stage writing the perfect role for himself, only to find out there was no such thing as the perfect role, you can play any role.

But that just, there was no red herring, like what's his motivation? It's just like, oh, ‘woe is me’, I can't see myself on TV, and, you know, what am I going to do? And I felt like it wouldn't connect to an audience, and it wouldn't connect to white people either. I don't want to alienate people, I don't want people to feel that this is their fault either. 

So, I was just talking back and forth with my agent, and he said, ‘What traumatic things have happened in your life?’ And I was just chatting about this and that, and then I said, ‘I do remember going for my first ever audition, and being told I wasn't black enough.’ And he was like, ‘what the fuck? That's how you start your show!’ 

At the time, I felt like the casting person was right, because I hadn't figured it out. Like, I was just kind of being these caricatures.

So in a way, they were right, and then I did have to go and kind of reconstruct my identity. I brushed it aside for a while, but that really was the moment, the catalyst of, like, who the fuck am I? What do I identify as? Once we figured that out then I wanted to share the story, and I wanted to share it through comedy.

It felt like there was this Charlie Chaplin-esque thing of like, we're watching someone do all this stuff to himself, but he's not doing it for himself, he's doing it because everybody else is kind of making him do it, and that’s the underlying tone.

I'm not putting blame on anybody. And then actually, do you know what? That person was actually right. They said a bad thing, but they were actually right. So, I think I wanted to challenge myself, but I wanted to be relatable, and I think at school, being good at sports, trying to go to the gym, these things are just universally recognised as uncomfortable places that we all go through. And I just have that added layer of being big, black and hairy.”

What was the impact of that Director saying that to you in the audition? 

“Someone’s in a position of power, you're not going to challenge them all, are you? So it's like, well, they must be right, you know, because they're in this position, and this position is authority.

I'm mixed race, so there was truth in it, I'm not really black, you know? I don't really have an argument to back me up, because I didn’t have that father figure, that identity, the solid foundations of the building blocks of your life. So it's like, oh, well, I'm just not right for that part because I don't look like the part. I'm not really black enough to be a slave.

I mean, I wasn't really. But I was the only choice, though, I'm the only black guy. I ended up getting that role, but I turned it down. I didn't want to do it, and that got me blacklisted. 

I still haven’t performed in that theatre, ever. I’ve performed in every other theatre, but not that one.” 

How long did it take to write ‘I’ve Always Liked The Name Marcus’, and what was the writing experience like?

“Three years. In 2021, I sent the short story, which was a two-pager just before Christmas. And then, after that, I started writing the full thing. There's things that we just couldn't achieve that, if I had more money or [a bigger] budget that I would want to do. We did a run of it in Belfast first, even from Belfast to Dublin it changed. 

We had a two week rehearsal, like, that was it. The first week was spent on the script. And then the second week, we had to film all of the projections and then actually rehearse. I didn't actually ever do a full run through of the script until the opening night.

That was the first time I'd done a full run through of the show.  No dress rehearsal, just balls to the wall trying to get all the elements in.”

What was the reception to your show like?

“It was great. There were a lot more black people who came to see it than I thought. Which was great. And I wasn't sure how people would respond, to be honest. I was just a bit nervous about, you know, what my mum would think, what my dad would think, what friends would think. 

I was just a little bit worried about it. But then I had to be like, ‘f*ck it’. My mum was worried as well and I just had to say to [her], ‘Mum, I don't care what you think because I can't. I have to serve the writing, I have to serve the piece, I have to serve Marcus and I can't be worried about what you're going to think about it or what you think other people are going to think because it's not about you, it's not about them.’ It's not even about me, it's just about the story that will hopefully inspire other mixed-race boys and girls and people to write or perform, that's what it's about, and this is my first vehicle into that world.”

Did you find writing it therapeutic?

“I thought it would be a bit of therapy . . . but it got to a point where I had to really disconnect from it. I kind of tried to disconnect myself from being like, oh what did I think when I was... I was really trying not to be too precious if a director comes in and is like, ‘why is that scene like that?’, and I’ve seen people before be like ‘because that’s what happened’. But dramatically, it's not verbatim. I was really conscious of not being precious about cutting things and dropping things.”

Tell me about the 24-hour Gym Workout that you did in order to raise money to put on your show at The Dublin Fringe Festival.

“We needed to raise money and I said, ‘I don't want to just put something out there and not do anything.’ Then when I was having a meeting with the script person about the feature film . . . she said, ‘it would be so cool if it was linked to a character in your play, if you did something where you ran a marathon or something as the character.’

I thought, well, I'm at the gym, I've got a personal trainer, he's got his own gym. So why don’t I do a 24-hour gym challenge? Nobody's done that. 

We smashed the goal actually and we raised it more. I was like, ‘f***ing hell.’”

And what was it like putting your show on in The Fringe for the first time? 

“It was good. I just wasn't sure what the reception would be like. I'm not sure if it'll land. I'm conscious of the way I speak, I slur my words sometimes and sometimes I make up words too. My diction’s not the greatest, so I was just a little worried about all that. But I thought one thing for sure, I might get a more diverse audience and it'll be interesting to see how they react to it.”

And what was the reaction to it for you? 

“I think black people definitely laugh more than white people, that's for sure, but I think that's because they felt like they could. I feel like you get like a middle-class white woman who's like 50-odd, she's definitely not going to laugh as much as a black 50-year-old man.

Then one night we had the WEFT people in, and it felt like everyone was there for me, you know, like, but I mean, every time there was more than 10 people, I was surprised. ‘Less expectations, and then you're pleasantly surprised,’ or something. You obviously expect your family to show up, your friends, maybe. Everyone's busy with all their things, and it's hard to expect people to show up for a theatre show.”


What's next for the ‘I've always liked the name Marcus’ project? 

“Well, We would hope and pray to the gods that we get a wee tour out of it. A wee international tour. We'd like to take it to America, London, UK and further down South as well. That'd be cool. And also adapt it for TV. That's my main goal. I'll do the tour and all, and that’ll be class, but I want to immortalise it on TV.”

Are you good at switching off? 

“It's weird because when you do nothing, you feel like you should be doing something. It's a vicious circle, but I can quite easily do nothing. And then I have written here, I have career ambitions, six months. Next year's goals. Two-year goals.

There’s always a goal, there's always a fucking thing I'm doing, because I feel like if I don't have it, then I'll just get fat and sassy, and just enjoy life, which is what I did up until the start of this year. Now I need to refocus and get to where I want to be. That's not going to happen without serious hustle.”

Throughout the course of the hour-long interview, Sharpe doodled a series of sketches, writing down various questions or words in his treasured notebook.

“This is my Bible. I actually have ‘reward if found’ written inside. This is literally all my stuff. I didn't date it the first time I wrote in it actually, but I only started it this year . . . I was in London on the plane and I just did a bit of free-writing. There was a woman on the plane who was doing my head in so I was just like writing about her and it was a [British Airways] flight as well so there was classical music that quietly reminds us that we are held at a higher standard; people who want to be here, people that need to be here, people who feel like they don't belong here we're always playing the part.”

Doodling in your notebook, is that to help you hold your concentration? 

“Yeah, yeah. I mean, my wife thinks I can't multitask, but I absolutely can. My mum does it as well. It's just in me, but I think it helps me remember things, you know, stay on track. And then sometimes people are asking me loads of questions, like you're asking me questions, sometimes I'll write them down because I hate waffling. I hate just going off on a tangent, I’m always conscious of people’s time . . . I don’t like being vague, I try to be precise. Sometimes I write it down, doodle, try and stay in focus, and circle back.”

How do you find balancing the projects in your life?

“I used to juggle quite a lot. I used to have about ten plates spinning, and then nothing would get done because I was just trying to do a wee bit here, do a wee bit there. None of them were progressing.

So actually I was like, ‘clear the slate’. You know, I've done everything, last year I did arm wrestling for God's sake! So I cleared all the clean plates. And now I only have two or three to juggle.”

Is there anything you've learned from film and TV that has helped with this past year in particular? 

“No, I think it would be the other way around. Theatre is the mother of us all, you know. I've actually learned to not really give a fuck. It's like that thing of, you know, what will be will be, you know. I don't mind if people don't like it. Or, if I say a line, and there's moments during ‘Marcus’, where I didn't really feel right, I don't really mind. The next thing, you know, it's like freeing myself of the pressure to be fucking great. It's like, who gives a fuck if it's shit, it's shit, you know what I mean? That's just your opinion. Someone will like it. “

Are there any genres that you haven’t tried that you want to try?

“I would like to do horror. I've watched a lot of horror films. Actually, see at the minute, you know Strava, the running app? Every time I run, I write a story. And it's a horror story.

But it's like the same, it's a continuation. Each time you get a little piece of the puzzle. So, it's about a priest doing an exorcist. I'm about to go to Benidorm here at the end of the week. I'll do a run and I'll put it on strava out there. I'm enjoying it because it motivates me to run then. My mate actually said to me, ‘What the fuck are you doing on Strava?’ And I was like, ‘this is my creative outlet! I don't care if nobody sees it.’ But it's just fun for me to do it and put it out there.”

So, what's next for you? 

“Well, nothing. Well, I'm going to be working on adapting Marcus for TV, so I'll be writing the treatment for the TV show. So, I'll write a treatment, and I already have the idea of what it's going to be, kind of like an ‘Everybody Hates Chris’ style sitcom. Six half-hour episodes. I'm trying to incorporate back into this kind of ‘Council of Marcus’ idea that I wasn't able to explore in the play, and I’m hoping to explore it on TV. So, you know, this idea of a courtroom, and each Marcus getting on the stand, and recounting as the witness to this kind of ‘crime’. 

Then, I’ve got to email people about Marcus going on tour and all that kind of stuff. So I’ve got to do all that work too now, boring admin stuff, some housekeeping stuff as well. Take some time off.”


It was a pleasure talking with Sharpe about his most recent Dublin Fringe success, and I am very excited to see what the future holds for the Whitehead-man (though he now resides in the metropolis that is Carnmoney village).