OK, extra flapjack for the first person to identify which Christmas song that line comes from!
Tonight the real star of the show appeared for the first time – the puppet theatre! Although in fact it was being understudied by a large cardboard box, as it’s quite heavy and awkward to transport, and in any case, working on a Tuesday evening when the temperature is in excess of 25 degrees is in contravention of the terms of its contract. As befits its celebrity status, it demands to be allocated a suitably impressive area of prime stage space, which gave me pause for thought when I realised that the sitting room was a bit smaller than I’d envisaged. The Set Designer and I will have to have a bit of a think about this.
Maybe it was the heat, or maybe I’d dozed off a bit while working on the blocking in the garden this afternoon, but there were several times tonight when I had to apologise to my long suffering cast for my directorial ineptitude. I fell back on the best bit of advice I ever read – There are three things a director is allowed to say: yes, no, and I don’t know. Leave it with me and I’ll tell you on Thursday. However, we muddled through. Once again I realise just how complicated the moves are for this play. I tell myself that once we’ve got all those sorted out it’ll be a doddle. The triumph of hope over experience . . .
A little further elucidation followed of the complicated landscape that is Bernard and Phyllis’s marriage. Apparently she was the receptionist at his GP surgery and a mutual misinterpretation of intentions at the Christmas party one year led to the fatal entanglement. Bye bye handsome plumber, hello empathetic doctor of excellent prospects. How wrong can you be?