Oh, Dear Diary... I have neglected you! I am so very sorry.
Things have been so intense, that I've been getting home dead on my feet all week! I tell you, these actor types work very hard. Seven hour days?! It's unheard of. And apparently, next week things are only going to get busier!
So... A brief resume of the week is what you want, I guess? Then I shall be brief!
Wednesday morning saw me in Wardrobe once again. Thankfully, this time they seemed to have got their act together somewhat. And the team - Emily (wardrobe supervisor - so mustn't get on the wrong side of her), Nicky (the one who's so small you'd miss her if you blinked), Abbi (work experience, mostly makes the tea!) and Lydia (assistant designer, and very much "on trend" with her kimono - either that or she'd just got up?) - were joined by a charming young man, Mark Walters, the designer.
Now, I know I have been known to get things wrong in the past, but Mark was... well, very forward. There's no better way to put it, I am afraid, Dear Diary.
He had presumably done a bit of reading up about me, as he was all questions and witty repartee about my time on the cruises, and seemed to know a great deal about some of my dearest friends; Barbra, Bette (Midler, not Davis - I'm certainly not THAT old!), Liza...
We were all chatty and he was certainly edging up the flirtatious scale considerably, as around me, his ladies pinned and darted and draped and billowed. And every so often, he'd stop chatting and switch into business mode; "No, darling! Far more fabric!" "Try an asymmetric hem!" "Ghastly, dear..." "She's supposed to look classy, not trailer trash..." "Sweetie, must I do everything myself?!", and then straight back into his suave conversational seduction! I must say, he had it down to a fine art! I was putty in his hands!!! I even noticed a saucy flash of a Calvin Klein underwear waistband - well, bless him for wearing his best tightie whities, but I'm not that sort of woman, Mark! You'll have to wine and dine me...
Alas, all too soon, our delightful morning was over, but we agreed on a second date next week, in wardrobe again, and off I floated after the obligatory air kisses and some very lingering eye contact.
The afternoon was spend working the rest of Act One, and I have some delightful little scenes with both Sarah Mahoney and little Matty Quinn. Matt was all out to show me his full range of acting prowess, and each time he had to "enter looking dejected", we saw a different emotion. Some interesting work from him... I tell you, that boy has potential. Sarah Mahoney, also, seems a consummate actress; I counted no less that five different facial expressions during one scene! Must suggest she doesn't use all her repertoire at the same time; she'll have nothing to wow us with in Act Two at this rate!
Things have been so intense, that I've been getting home dead on my feet all week! I tell you, these actor types work very hard. Seven hour days?! It's unheard of. And apparently, next week things are only going to get busier!
So... A brief resume of the week is what you want, I guess? Then I shall be brief!
Wednesday morning saw me in Wardrobe once again. Thankfully, this time they seemed to have got their act together somewhat. And the team - Emily (wardrobe supervisor - so mustn't get on the wrong side of her), Nicky (the one who's so small you'd miss her if you blinked), Abbi (work experience, mostly makes the tea!) and Lydia (assistant designer, and very much "on trend" with her kimono - either that or she'd just got up?) - were joined by a charming young man, Mark Walters, the designer.
Now, I know I have been known to get things wrong in the past, but Mark was... well, very forward. There's no better way to put it, I am afraid, Dear Diary.
He had presumably done a bit of reading up about me, as he was all questions and witty repartee about my time on the cruises, and seemed to know a great deal about some of my dearest friends; Barbra, Bette (Midler, not Davis - I'm certainly not THAT old!), Liza...
We were all chatty and he was certainly edging up the flirtatious scale considerably, as around me, his ladies pinned and darted and draped and billowed. And every so often, he'd stop chatting and switch into business mode; "No, darling! Far more fabric!" "Try an asymmetric hem!" "Ghastly, dear..." "She's supposed to look classy, not trailer trash..." "Sweetie, must I do everything myself?!", and then straight back into his suave conversational seduction! I must say, he had it down to a fine art! I was putty in his hands!!! I even noticed a saucy flash of a Calvin Klein underwear waistband - well, bless him for wearing his best tightie whities, but I'm not that sort of woman, Mark! You'll have to wine and dine me...
Alas, all too soon, our delightful morning was over, but we agreed on a second date next week, in wardrobe again, and off I floated after the obligatory air kisses and some very lingering eye contact.
The afternoon was spend working the rest of Act One, and I have some delightful little scenes with both Sarah Mahoney and little Matty Quinn. Matt was all out to show me his full range of acting prowess, and each time he had to "enter looking dejected", we saw a different emotion. Some interesting work from him... I tell you, that boy has potential. Sarah Mahoney, also, seems a consummate actress; I counted no less that five different facial expressions during one scene! Must suggest she doesn't use all her repertoire at the same time; she'll have nothing to wow us with in Act Two at this rate!
So Wednesday passed, and Thursday arrived, and we were working on the Glam Rock Medley at the end of Act One. Now, I apologise if I offend, but Glam Rock... Well... Just, why?! That craze just passed me by at the time, and coming at it again with an older and wiser head hasn't improved it at all. I mean... "Well, I ain't no witch, and I love the way you twitch"?! I just don't get it! Needless to say, all the kiddies were very much enjoying themselves, so I smiled and tapped my foot along to the "music", all the while thinking that a lovely little Carpenters sequence would be far more delightful at this point in the show - I have often been likened to Miss Karen Carpenter, both vocally and physically, and I think the production team are missing a trick there. But what do I know? I'm only a lowly actress with years of experience and a huge cult following!
And in the blink of an eye, Friday was upon us, and we were learning all the music in Act Two. Oddly, I don't seem to feature as much in Act Two - they're probably just keeping my numbers a secret from the cast so nobody leaks to the press.
And so we had the vocal stylings of Dame Kate Bush recreated by that awful nuisance, Hollie Cassar - honestly, if she sings any more in this show, she'll give herself nodules! And then Sarah Mahoney was up and giving her best Tina Turner. And then it was the turn of yours truly, sharing a duet with Cameron. "Welcome Home" by Peters and Lee? Exactly, Dear Diary... Who?! They apparently won the first Opportunity Knocks. Well, it seems that Opportunity never knocked again for them! But it's a sweet little tune, and Cameron is a delight - so very earnest. And most of his harmony was almost in tune!
At the end of the rehearsal, a very diminutive young man appeared and introduced himself as Jacob Richmond Caines.
"Oh yes... Jacob... I am aware of your work," I said. He is the one I keep on thinking has broken his leg every time he does a high kick. I was about to say that I felt men should never be able to kick that high and that it shows a distinct lack of masculinity, but I thought better of it.
"Well, Felicia... I just wanted to say what a pleasure it is working with you, and if you ever wanted to find a quiet corner to run lines or dance moves, I'd be more than willing to help you out."
For goodness sakes! They ALL want a piece of me! Honestly, men can be so predatory some times.
"That's very sweet of you, Jacob," I replied, "but I think my dance card is somewhat full, what with Wade and now Mark the designer chomping at the bit to 'Begin the Beguine' with me!"
And off I went, leaving him looking very disappointed, and, oddly, a little confused.
I tell you - men in this business are only after one thing. I had exactly the same problem when I did Mother Goose in Brighton. Dale Winton was all over me like a rash. A very orange rash at that!
Mind you, they're only human, I guess. I must pop to Selfridges over the weekend and see if I can get something a little more dowdy to wear in rehearsals next week; it seems that Felicia and Lycra are a combination that perhaps should be avoided, for the sake of male sanity!
And so we had the vocal stylings of Dame Kate Bush recreated by that awful nuisance, Hollie Cassar - honestly, if she sings any more in this show, she'll give herself nodules! And then Sarah Mahoney was up and giving her best Tina Turner. And then it was the turn of yours truly, sharing a duet with Cameron. "Welcome Home" by Peters and Lee? Exactly, Dear Diary... Who?! They apparently won the first Opportunity Knocks. Well, it seems that Opportunity never knocked again for them! But it's a sweet little tune, and Cameron is a delight - so very earnest. And most of his harmony was almost in tune!
At the end of the rehearsal, a very diminutive young man appeared and introduced himself as Jacob Richmond Caines.
"Oh yes... Jacob... I am aware of your work," I said. He is the one I keep on thinking has broken his leg every time he does a high kick. I was about to say that I felt men should never be able to kick that high and that it shows a distinct lack of masculinity, but I thought better of it.
"Well, Felicia... I just wanted to say what a pleasure it is working with you, and if you ever wanted to find a quiet corner to run lines or dance moves, I'd be more than willing to help you out."
For goodness sakes! They ALL want a piece of me! Honestly, men can be so predatory some times.
"That's very sweet of you, Jacob," I replied, "but I think my dance card is somewhat full, what with Wade and now Mark the designer chomping at the bit to 'Begin the Beguine' with me!"
And off I went, leaving him looking very disappointed, and, oddly, a little confused.
I tell you - men in this business are only after one thing. I had exactly the same problem when I did Mother Goose in Brighton. Dale Winton was all over me like a rash. A very orange rash at that!
Mind you, they're only human, I guess. I must pop to Selfridges over the weekend and see if I can get something a little more dowdy to wear in rehearsals next week; it seems that Felicia and Lycra are a combination that perhaps should be avoided, for the sake of male sanity!