I had woken up at 7.30 so just got up and pretty much got on with the script. As usual the deadline was enough of an incentive to keep going and things started to take shape. But by lunchtime I still hadn't quite worked out what was going to happen in the end, or embarked on the Christmas Carol sketch that I now suspected would take us to the end of the show.
I stopped for some pasta, but then just pushed onwards and wrote the last ten or so pages in the next two hours with very little forethought or afterthought. They seemed to come out pretty much as they needed to be. I had no idea who was going to be the ghost of Christmas Future until I started typing that bit up. I think I made an interesting choice. And once again I think all that time that felt like I was doing nothing and sitting round in a state of inertia, that something was clicking around in the back of my head. The down time is as important as the up.
Suddenly by three o clock the script seemed ready. I just had to print it up (slightly delayed by a serious paper jam on script 2 and the fact that I stupidly printed up 5 full scripts when Christian wasn't going to be there tonight) pop to the shops to get the cast and crew some presents - opted for some "I've got the X Factor mugs" for the principals - maybe I should have thought ahead and got them cumpkin ones.
As I left my house the sky was turning dark and the whole of central London was covered in the blackest and most ominous cloud cover I have ever seen. It was slightly awesome, like something out of a film and on some primeval level made me slightly frightened. Were the forces of Mordor about to take over the capital? Was this an omen of doom for the show?
Things were otherwise looking positive. On getting to the theatre I found out it was already a sell out, which was a very good Christmas present and should hopefully help us swing an overall profit. Dan and Emma were in a skittish mood and the read through went very well and seemed properly funny, though I was a bit nervous because the ones we find funny don't always go down as well and the script seemed a bit too finished. I feel a bit happier when I am still writing bits at five to eight.
But I needn't have worried. When we got back from dinner the room was already buzzing and by the time I stepped on to stage I was greeted with the sight of a full theatre of cheering and excited people. If only it could have been like this every week. Both in terms of financing the project and creating an amazing atmosphere. But these things have to build and hopefully when/if we do more people will want to come and experience it live.
I had some pre-recording fun discovering that a young man in the front row was only 12 and was here with his dad, who had never heard the show. But luckily they both kept laughing and then we were off for certainly the most enjoyable show of the run. Once again, somehow, it had all come together and Dan and Emma were, as always, brilliant and added so much more to the script through their performance and ad libs.
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There was a lot of enthusiasm from the people who hung around afterwards and though it hadn't quite sunk in that the whole ten weeks of madness was now over, I guess I was starting to sense what an achievement this has all been. But mainly I just concentrated on getting drunk with the people who have made this show what it is, both those that have been in the show and those that have come to see it.
It looks likely that we'll do at least six more (and maybe eight) in May/June/July next year. Can't quite believe I am committing myself to all the stress again, but the problem is that once you've done it it all feels worth it. And it was a satisfying realisation, which came to me only as I was saying it on stage, that I am not having to wait for executives or commissioning editors to decide if I can do some more. Only I have to decide it. And ultimately only nobody coming to watch it will result in it having to end.
Which is a little bit bloody brilliant.
