Captain’s Log, Stardate 16 March 2020. That’s where I was when theatre time stopped. Watching William Shatner on stage in Hammersmith at probably the only show left in London. It was a surreal evening. Two hours earlier every other theatre in London had closed, our tour of Billionaire Boy came to an abrupt halt and rehearsals for Horrible Histories were swiftly coming to end. And there I was sitting listening to Captain Kirk talk about the Starship Enterprise. It was maybe the best way to start the strangest week. And two days later I came down with the virus.

And yet for some reason there’s something weirdly unsurprising about this dazzling week. Is it because twenty years ago my friend took me onto the set of 28 Days Later, so I could see the M1 being closed and watch the black taxi drive slowly north up the empty carriageway? Is it because of the financial crash of 2008 which awakened my sense of just how wrong things can go? Is it because experts (funny that) have been loudly warning us this was going to happen for the last thirty years? Is it because two months ago I wrote a scene for Barmy Britain Part Five about the 1918 Spanish Flu? (It got a good reception at the reading we did in February, but I’m guessing it probably won’t make it into the show now…)

My task is to keep the company going for however long it takes. And that’s certainly the difference between this and the adverse conditions we’ve faced before, having no idea how long that will be. The BSC is unfunded and relies entirely on ticket sales. We don’t have investors or sponsors. So from now on we’re relying on our reserves, as so many around the world are having to do.

But I am already empowered by how strong and supportive everyone involved with the company has been. Yesterday I agreed with my colleague that all of us involved in the company are doing it simply because we love it. And so we’re ready to do whatever it takes to put one foot in front of the other until we can open the doors to our shows again and welcome in the public. Here’s hoping we’ll all meet under the lights of some magical theatre soon. And in the meantime, I’ll keep you updated.

Captain’s Log, Stardate 16 March 2020. That’s where I was when theatre time stopped. Watching William Shatner on stage in Hammersmith at probably the only show left in London. It was a surreal evening. Two hours earlier every other theatre in London had closed, our tour of Billionaire Boy came to an abrupt halt and rehearsals for Horrible Histories were swiftly coming to end. And there I was sitting listening to Captain Kirk talk about the Starship Enterprise. It was maybe the best way to start the strangest week. And two days later I came down with the virus.

And yet for some reason there’s something weirdly unsurprising about this dazzling week. Is it because twenty years ago my friend took me onto the set of 28 Days Later, so I could see the M1 being closed and watch the black taxi drive slowly north up the empty carriageway? Is it because of the financial crash of 2008 which awakened my sense of just how wrong things can go? Is it because experts (funny that) have been loudly warning us this was going to happen for the last thirty years? Is it because two months ago I wrote a scene for Barmy Britain Part Five about the 1918 Spanish Flu? (It got a good reception at the reading we did in February, but I’m guessing it probably won’t make it into the show now…)

My task is to keep the company going for however long it takes. And that’s certainly the difference between this and the adverse conditions we’ve faced before, having no idea how long that will be. The BSC is unfunded and relies entirely on ticket sales. We don’t have investors or sponsors. So from now on we’re relying on our reserves, as so many around the world are having to do.

But I am already empowered by how strong and supportive everyone involved with the company has been. Yesterday I agreed with my colleague that all of us involved in the company are doing it simply because we love it. And so we’re ready to do whatever it takes to put one foot in front of the other until we can open the doors to our shows again and welcome in the public. Here’s hoping we’ll all meet under the lights of some magical theatre soon. And in the meantime, I’ll keep you updated.