Is the "final" rehearsal worse (more of a cause for concern) than the actual opening night, I wonder?

This was last night. Same shabby rehearsal rooms (though we're grateful!). Same not quite perfect (but getting there!) collection of props and costume. Same utterly unatmospheric fluorescent lighting beating down on the pretties as they struggled and strove to remember their lines, stand in the right sort of place and convey some vestige of emotion in the midst of all the cerebral effort.

The only difference last night was that More People were sat in the "audience", i.e. the row of seats pushed as far back against the opposite wall as is physically possible given the parameters of the room. Stage Manager, Lighting Director, Lighting Assistant, Assistant Director (operating the sound - thanks!), General Manager. And me.

At this point, we must decide whether we convene more panic rehearsals between now and showtime. A small matter of ninety six hours or thereabouts. Or whether we let them fly free and fend for themselves.

As luck would have it, they turned in an absolutely cracking performance that did the script almost perfect justice. And you wouldn't want a dress to be absolutely perfect. For they need to peak on Monday.

So, pretties, move in on Saturday, tech on Sunday and then it's over to you. And you'll be dandy. S'good.

Thanks.