I’m in an Uber in the rain heading to the theatre. Our last Twelfth Night show happens tonight. We have an extremely busy WhatsApp group for the show which is terrifically noisy right now with final costings and plans for the get out and so forth. Last night was a full house and I boiled. Tonight is a little less sold so I’m hoping it’s not going to be quite so hot in there. I’m expecting I’ll want to raise a glass with the other four post show, so I’m getting this down now. I don’t have that feeling like you’re running off a cliff that you often get at the end of a long job like this has been, because we’re opening Christmas Carol tomorrow evening. I can’t stop yet. Not for another month or so. That calm day with trees and bears in California seems a long long time ago now.
I’ve enjoyed working with these misfits. I’ll enjoy this one last show. But I’ll be glad to have only one show in my head again. Christmas Carol is still in flux, with some tweaks and rewrites this morning. We also have to bring some content to the switching on of the Christmas lights in Bond Street. I don’t think I’ll get to push the button, but I’ll get to say “humbug.” As a result of all this stuff yet to come, my head feels pretty full. Hence the Uber.
The Uber driver is listening to talk radio though, and as I write, the news is filtering in. Internecine bickering from mostly unpleasant political figures, people stabbing people, protests, exclusion zones, elections, Black Friday. It’s dark out there. I’m quite looking forward to going into that tiny circle of brightness for one final time and telling this odd story from the perspective of the “party goes wrong” character in the story. Then having a few drinks and getting home in time to sleep properly and recharge for opening night and a face full of fake snow.
I ended up leading a charge of actors into a tiny little club I’ve come across over the years. It’s one of the last actor’s clubs. Over the years I’ve performed in it three times, I think. It is anti nonsense and pro dive. It’s harder and harder to find places that just let you vanish into a place where nobody wants to talk about what they’ve done or what they’re doing.
I’m sad to say goodbye to this tour. We have had a joyful time. We have seen some incredible places, some of which are restricted for civilians. I know for sure I’ll miss these four strange beautiful humans. But friendships have deepened, and there is no way in hell I won’t walk into a rehearsal room with one or more of them at some point in the future.. That’s just how the industry works. Meantime, farewell Twelfth Night, hello Christmas Carol. No rest for the wicked. Money doesn’t grow on trees. Etc.