Letters from Leclerc (6)

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Show week  -  March the 1st 

Well we are now in full swing, tripping the light fantastic, going live; ok the thing has finally started. I am writing from a darkened room, late at night after a performance. We have had a week of dry runs, trial runs, technical rehearsals and dress rehearsals; we haven’t yet had a performance to “Save the Whale” but I wait with baited breath and a fresh Knockwurst…Rather than bore you with full details of our trials & tribulations, highs & lows, slap & stick, I will give you a brief summary of the story so far.   

 

 

Most recently a decorated officer of the German Army changed after the final scene to find his own trousers missing, going home in full military regalia did not appeal.They had been put with the props by mistake - it was I Leclerc!  

Our sound engineer tripped over a wire and cut music short while trying to fix a blackout screen, which had not been put up securely – it was I Leclerc! One of our peasants with the much practiced and very complex job of going on set once, sitting down and being removed by Helga, missed the cue and didn’t appear It was not the fault of Leclerc. 

It is so different having an audience, including those almost sitting on the set, participating in the performance with the odd comment and going to the loo mid performance, it all keeps us on our toes!   

 

We have had French tarts falling off chairs, Tangos missed by early entrances, various bits of set collapsing, slipping or being knocked over, glasses smashed by energetic “Polocemen”, parrots with detachable beaks, missing portraits, empty sausages, the list goes on…………… and do you know, the audiences so far have absolutely loved the show, laughs a plenty, with the over the top costumes, triple entendres, funny walks, dramatic entrances and energetic pace and that’s just the audience! Joking aside (where did the jokes start?) it has been fun to perform. 
A classic moment for me was walking from wardrobe (more on that in a mo!) dressed in long striped night shirt and slippers at 9 pm on a cold Scottish Friday night, and bumping in to a lady of Afro-Caribbean descent dressed almost identically, we smiled, exchanged looks of mutal appreciation and both went off thinking how smart the other looked.   

 

 

 

 

 

Now that we are seasoned pros, or amateurs faking our way through a wordy clever farce, we expect certain luxuries, costumes, water and some applause after a show, but our expectations have been surpassed from two camps. The owner of the Seaview café where ‘Allo ‘Allo is taking place has showered us with sandwiches, pizza, coffee and cakes. Rose next door has opened her house to us, giving her driveway, her garage, a ladies dressing room, a gents dressing room, a kitchen, tea, coffee, lately after my request for puppies to stroke, pink swans, ten doves and crates of Moet, we have on offer, dried fruit, chocolates, iced water with flea repellent lace covers, nuts, button sewing facilities, toilets and a huge ashtray, take a bow Rose!   

 

I must pop off and feed my parrot, he has been looking a bit lifeless after René (he of great adlibs to cover various missed, dropped and mumbled lines) has kicked stamped on and “shushed” in order to prevent the inbuilt radio transmitting intelligence secrets. Confused, I cannot reveal more, watch the show, Au Revoir… 

Regards 

Monsieur Leclerc

 

 

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