We sat down with Katie Arnstein, writer and performer in The Long Run, a captivating, joyful comedy about love, cancer and
really long journeys.
The Long Run is about marathon running and cancer – how did you come to make a show about two such seemingly disconnected things?
Ahhh. Thanks for asking this because I don’t think they are disconnected. The idea for the show came about because my Mum, Jane, was diagnosed with bowel cancer in 2022. I wrote The Long Run as a love letter to my Mum and anyone who has been on a cancer journey either directly or indirectly. For me the link between marathon running and cancer comes because they are both long and often very painful journeys. They are both journeys where you can be surrounded by supporters and people cheering you on but it is something that the body has to go through on its own. And London Marathon day is one of my favourite days of the year. I think it’s the most magical day because strangers stand on the streets for hours to help get people over the finish line. I think it’s really beautiful.
What drew you to start making one woman shows?
I crave attention. It is my oxygen.
Also, only slightly more seriously, I wasn’t getting any of the work I wanted. I wasn’t telling any of the stories I wanted to tell and after a particularly bad acting job I thought “ok if this guy can write a show – I’m going to write a show”. I’m also really inspired by solo performers including but not exclusive to James Rowland, Josie Long, Michaela Coel and Victoria Wood and so sort of wanted to be like them. It’s also the cheapest way to make work. Even though I make solo shows I have worked with incredible practitioners who have made it possible. Bec Martin, Ellen Havard, Beccy D’Souza, Daniel Goldman. So I make one person shows but with brilliant people.
What have you learned about yourself and the world from making this work?
I have learnt that what I really love about theatre is the company – so if you’re doing a one person show, make sure that you have brilliant people around you or it can feel lonely. I have learnt that I will always think the last thing I did was the best thing I’ll ever write and I’ll be full of doubts about the next project…
I never started out wanting to be a writer but I had things I wanted to say and I was lucky enough to be given space to do it, and time to learn how to improve.
My shows all start by me giving a sweet to the audience as they come in, and I have learnt that that is generally a good move to get them onside…
The Long Run is a very personal piece, do you need to take steps to protect yourself emotionally when making shows like this?
I think it’s really important to protect yourself when you’re making any work but especially when you’re creating or drawing on something personal. Again, making sure you’re working with people you trust is essential but so is only sharing with the audience things you’re comfortable sharing. I think you should try putting things into the show that support you through it – jokes, music, drinks breaks, having the lights how you want them, whatever it takes to make you feel safe and supported from the first day of writing to the last day of the show.
What advice would you give your younger self about a career in the performing arts?
I would say “K. Don’t stick with tap dancing for as long as you do – you are simply not getting any better.”
The other bit of advice I have is not for young me but for the people young me will come across. To drama school teachers, directors, producers, casting directors, company members etc – don’t abuse your power, please. Don’t cross lines. Don’t push people too far. Don’t cause harm.
Do you know what show you’d like to make next?
I have big hopes. I want to write a children’s show because it would be such a privilege to be a part of a young person’s first or early introduction to theatre. I’d like to make another show with Bec Martin. I’d like to write a musical with my friend Benedict Cork. Most of all I’d like to keep challenging myself as a writer and bring it to some lovely audiences.