From our friends at Hi! Drama

EVA HEINEMANN & STEPHEN KEARLEY REPORT ON
JIM DALE'S AN ACTOR'S NIGHTMARE
Episcopal Actors’ Guild Benefit
Read this review on Hi! Drama.

EVA HEINEMANN:
Jim Dale recounts this positively terrifying production of “The Architect and the Emperor of Assyria” by Fernando Arrabal produced at the Old VIc in London for the National Theater headed by Laurence Olivier in 1971. Starring just Mr. Dale and Anthony Hopkins.

They were at the mercy of a crazed director, Victor Garcia, who makes Ivo Von Hove seem tame.

The unbelievable horrors they went through will make you gasp and laugh so hard you will end up crying.

To know the unprepared fiasco they have to present to a live audience and go through with it, was little short of a miracle and a testament to their bravery, and dedication to the show must go on.

STEPHEN KEARLEY:
Jim Dale’s AN ACTOR’S NIGHTMARE is the kind of evening that reminds you that sometimes theater doesn’t need elaborate sets, a full orchestra, or even a cast of more than one person. Sometimes all you need is a legendary performer, a stool, and a truly unbelievable story.

The one man show recounts Dale’s experience working on the 1971 National Theatre production of The Architect and the Emperor of Assyria, a two person play that paired him with a young Sir Anthony Hopkins under the watchful eye of a director who, as the evening makes hilariously clear, may have been completely out of his mind. What unfolds is less a tidy behind the scenes anecdote and more a slow moving theatrical train wreck told by someone who survived it.

The performance itself is wonderfully simple. Just Jim Dale, seated beside a small podium with a laptop, talking directly to the audience. Before diving into the nightmare production, he warms us up with stories from earlier in his career. We hear about the moment Sir Laurence Olivier called his house to offer him a position at the National Theatre, a phone call Dale initially assumed was a prank. At one point, convinced someone was pulling his leg, Dale even began mocking the caller with an exaggerated Winston Churchill style voice before the embarrassing realization slowly set in that it actually was Laurence Olivier on the other end of the line.

From there the evening becomes a masterclass in storytelling.

Dale describes the rehearsal process for The Architect and the Emperor of Assyria as if it were some kind of surreal fever dream. The director spoke through multiple translators, allegedly spent rehearsals fueled by mushrooms and vodka, and insisted on staging ideas that seemed to come from another dimension entirely. At one point he even locked Dale and Hopkins in a dark room while a forklift drove straight at them because, according to him, the actors needed to experience “real terror.”
And that was just rehearsal.

By the time Dale begins describing the one and only preview performance, the entire audience is already howling. What follows sounds less like a play and more like a bizarre performance art experiment gone wildly off the rails. Blinding lights aimed directly at the audience. Engine noises shaking the walls. Anthony Hopkins descending onto the stage inside a glowing orb. Forklifts, animal hides, explosions, and a birth scene involving what Dale lovingly refers to as a giant blob.

And somehow… that was only Act One.

Dale tells it all with the precision of someone who has spent decades captivating listeners. His voice alone is worth the price of admission. If you’ve ever listened to one of the many audiobooks he’s narrated, you already know that rich, unmistakable sound. Hearing it live is oddly comforting, like being read a bedtime story by someone who just happens to have worked with Olivier and Hopkins.

More importantly, Jim Dale is flat out hilarious. Not politely amusing. Not gently charming. Truly, uncontrollably funny. The kind of funny that sneaks up on you until suddenly you realize you’re laughing so hard your eyes are watering. At several points the entire room was in absolute stitches.

What makes the evening so enjoyable isn’t just the absurdity of the story. It’s the way Dale builds it piece by piece, slowly revealing how a production that was supposed to be a prestigious National Theatre event spiraled into chaos. Actors injuring themselves onstage, wardrobes that barely existed, a director who vanished days before opening, and two performers desperately trying to assemble something resembling a show for a paying audience.
By the time he reaches the moment when the curtain falls and the audience responds with a bizarre mixture of boos, cheers, and stunned silence, you feel like you’ve lived through the ordeal alongside him.

And somehow, decades later, it has become one of the funniest stories imaginable.

The entire event also served as a benefit for the Episcopal Actors’ Guild, and the wine and cheese reception following the show was an extra special treat.
Jim Dale could probably read his grocery list aloud and hold an audience spellbound. Fortunately for us, he chose to tell this story instead.

And judging by the tears of laughter rolling down half the audience’s faces, we were all very grateful he did.