Playing Marting Powell, I spent the first act dead, having been shot through the head! Tomato sauce dribbled down my face. The second act is the story of how I came to be shot. I play a real bastard of an aging actor who is intent on divorcing his wife, whom he loathes with a passion. It seemed to go remarkably well, thanks to some great lines that I had fun delivering, although I do find the nerves almost crippling! Another three performances to go.
