end letter

To whomever it may concern,   The first thing to say is, I'm sorry. I know it won't be easy for you to believe after recent events, but I deeply regret the mess I've made. I've had time to turn it all over since I've been here – to be honest, there's not much else to do but ruminate once you've wandered around the market and visited the Orang-utan sanctuary - so I'm writing to try and explain.      It's true, he and I didn't have the best relationship, but I wasn't the only one in the cast who found him difficult. He's a fine actor, of course, but it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he also has an ego the size of a small planet. The way he strutted around back stage in those tights. We used to say the only reason he'd climb a balcony in real life was if he knew there'd be a reflective surface at the top. You don't know what it was like to come in and see him every evening, warming his voice, poring over his notices, practising his Jude Law smile. I knew he'd never give me a chance.      Actually, my own head is pounding rather. It must be the heat. Apparently it's so hot because the rains are due, that's what one of the local children told me anyway. There are a little gang of them who like to practise their English on me. They're a welcome diversion from my thoughts. : 

To whomever it may concern, The first thing to say is, I'm sorry. I know it won't be easy for you to believe after recent events, but I deeply regret the mess I've made. I've had time to turn it all over since I've been here – to be honest, there's not much else to do but ruminate once you've wandered around the market and visited the Orang-utan sanctuary - so I'm writing to try and explain. It's true, he and I didn't have the best relationship, but I wasn't the only one in the cast who found him difficult. He's a fine actor, of course, but it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he also has an ego the size of a small planet. The way he strutted around back stage in those tights. We used to say the only reason he'd climb a balcony in real life was if he knew there'd be a reflective surface at the top. You don't know what it was like to come in and see him every evening, warming his voice, poring over his notices, practising his Jude Law smile. I knew he'd never give me a chance. Actually, my own head is pounding rather. It must be the heat. Apparently it's so hot because the rains are due, that's what one of the local children told me anyway. There are a little gang of them who like to practise their English on me. They're a welcome diversion from my thoughts.

Slide 2: 

They were asking me questions this morning. 'What is your name?' 'Gavin.' 'Where do you come from?' 'London.' Then one of them, a little girl of about seven, asked me, 'What are you doing here?' I didn't have the phrase in my book for 'I've committed actual bodily harm against one of the rising stars of British theatre,' so I said I was having a holiday But this is what I want to explain. The theatre is the only thing I've ever wanted, since I was a child myself - almost before I knew what it meant to be an actor. I don't come from a theatrical family. Mum and Dad didn't take us for a quick burst of Chekhov and a Zeffirelli double-bill; it was Bob's Full House and The Daily Mirror, so they had no idea where I got the notion from. But I knew, I knew in my heart, that I didn't lack talent. I just needed the opportunity to prove myself as the Gavin Pollard I could be; not the bit-playing, spear-carrying walk-on, but the scene-stealing, balcony-scaling leading man. The prospect of becoming one of those unemployed older actors terrified me, a lifetime spent creaking about in the shadows, gradually filling up with a sort of Jimmy Porter vitriol, hanging around in WH Smith to skim read copies of The Stage. So I decided I wouldn't, couldn't let it happen. This has all been my own doing, and I'm not laying blame at anyones door, but I do wonder, would this have happened if I'd had a chance sooner? Perhaps if they’d put me on for the occasional Wednesday matinee? Lets be honest, it doesn't bother a party of school children who's playing the lead, they're only there to show off in front of their mates - like that time one of them called out, ' Oi , Romeo, when you gonna give her one?' and the entire balcony erupted. But I never did get a matinee, and it was quite clear that Alex wasn't going to give way. So desperation took ove r.

Slide 3: 

How can I describe what it was like to stand there at last and do what I'd dreamed about all my life, to speak those lines, to move an entire audience to tears? It's true, I gave an immaculate performance, but I needed to be seen by the people who mattered - the critics. So I got a mate of mine to round up some journalists and casting agents to come and see the performance the following night. I knew the part inside out, I'd studied every subtlety and mannerism. I was ready. So imagine how I felt when Alex phoned up the next morning right as rain and ready to go back on. The critics would be turning up to see me, it was my big chance. But Alex was fighting fit. I was in a fever. I wasn't being rational, as Shakespeare has it, 'These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumphs die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss, consume.' It was too late. I was already consumed. My entire professional life was hanging in the balance. It's getting dark. They'll be setting up the tables soon for dinner, and I've said all I needed to say so I'll stop now. I hope everyone is well, but that seems unlikely, given the circumstances – after all, who wants to swap a career as Romeo for one as Richard III? I intend to visit him, I just need to find the right state of mind. Forgive me if I don't include a return address, I'm keeping a low profile for a little while. But then again, I suppose I'm used to anonymity.