I will never forget the moment I led the original cast of Oliver! by Lionel Bart! out of captivity. I opened the basement door and they emerged blinking into the light. They shielded their eyes, hissing, weeping, trembling. It was all too much for one of them and he crumbled to dust, but gradually the others became accustomed to the brightness.
We climbed the steps, into a corridor lined with posters of the many shows that had come and gone since their incarceration, and they were sorely amazed and full of questions. "What is Christopher Biggins?" they asked. "Why would anyone want to see a musical about roller skating?" "And how can I get tickets to 'Fire Escape'?"
Then we reached the dressing rooms and that's when the fight broke out. It was horrible to see so many brittle old men pounding the hell out of each other, and once it was all over there were three casualties and Dodger had bagged the biggest room. Before long, they were all applying makeup, going through the wardrobe and bitching about each other. For them, it was just like old times.