Although I can barely keep my eyes open, there's a big envelope of scripts for me which I tear open and take to bed. Can't resist speaking some of the lines aloud, imagining how they'll sound on stage and trying to picture the set from the stage directions (French's Acting Editions always have very pedantic detailing of this sort). For me, this is the most exciting and the most worrying moment of a new show before opening night, with a myriad trivial yet crucial questions:
- Do I have the biggest part/funniest lines/best costume?
- Do I have to kiss anyone/appear naked?
- Do I have to die on stage?
And a flick through confirms:
- Yes, in one/Yes, in one/Yes in all three!!!
- Yes in one, but not enough to annoy my wife/No, thank God, but I might have to lose some weight
- Yes. Bugger.
Plus there's a cast list, so I can scope everyone out on the web in the morning. Don't recognise anyone, though, so I probably haven't worked with them. Big sleep, no dreams.
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