So, what happened at Press Night? The great and the good were gathered, eventually. Our lighting designer, Mark Jonathan was darting along the tunnel from dressing room out to the foyer, very reminiscent of the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. He hit the automatic exit button, and inadvertently revealed Peter and myself to the audience heading for their seats, as we headed back stage, then Mark was gone.

Peter and I took up our positions in the wings waiting for standby. Over her headphones our ASM, Sarah could hear Front of House panicking that they needed to find seats in the packed auditorium, for the set designer, Libby Watson, and a ‘very important man’. The ‘very important man’ was none other than our white rabbit , Mark Jonathan. Libby has a mischievously wicked sense of humour, and I guessed that she might have insisted on the best seats and used Mark for leverage!

Finally, they were all settled in their seats, standby was given, and we were on.

The hour and a bit flashed by again. The applause died away and we were back in our dressing room. Hardly back at all, when there was a knock on the door. I opened it to reveal our writer, David Eldridge. He was ecstatic. Very happy indeed! He stood back to introduce the original writer of the piece, Jean Marie Besset, and the director of his work in Paris, Gilbert. I smiled inwardly, as I noticed that they were both dressed almost identically to my character, a successful Parisian professional. They were hugely complimentary.

Another knock, and in came our director, Hamish Glen, a big grin across his face. He hugged us both, and exclaimed how pleased he was with our performances. I presented him with a bottle of Margaux as a thank you and a good luck present for the run. He rushed off to gather glasses, and then generously shared out the bottle for a toast. There were the inevitable comparisons with the French production, to which Jean Marie consented that we had the edge on the Paris performance, in design, direction and execution. Though, he was a little taken aback that the running time was 45mins shorter than in Paris. David concluded that this was due to the French having far greater pauses of silence between certain moments on stage. Not sure we would get away with that over here.

So, on to the opening party. I actually usually hate these events. In London, they are an opportunity for people to network and brush shoulders with celebs and potential future employers. Thank God at the Belgrade, it is far more relaxed, and they feed you. Superb! Once we had exhausted the catering and bar staff at the Belgrade, we headed across the way to the Town Wall Tavern, Jean Marie and Gilbert on-tow. Sadly, at this point we bade farewell to our Assistant Director Amy Bonsall, who we will not be seeing again until the last night. I will definitely miss her, not least because she has been my house-mate for the past two weeks, but she makes a mean pot of coffee, and was a very good ear towards ensuring that I was word perfect.

We didn’t have to wait long for the reviews to emerge, and they were more than encouraging. The Times’ approach was thoughtful and thought provoking, The Guardian, tentative about the French writer’s depth, and applauding the production, What’sOnStage.com gave it a rollicking 5star rating, and The Daily Telegraph are set to cover it this week.

The buzz for the West End transfer is a nano louder and increasingly positive. There are even rumblings of a New York transfer, though admittedly the Broadway shift possibility is mostly from Peter in the corner of our dressing room, but then that is his territory, He acted and lived there for many years.

By the end of this week, we should have more concrete answers. One thing we are increasingly aware of is the audience’s responses. They love it! The twists and turns take them by surprise, the design of set and lights delight. Hamish has done a blinding job, with a beautifully crafted piece of writing from both sides of the Channel. This is a production that deservers a wider audience.

JLP ;-)