This is another show I wasn't supposed to do. I had just finished an exhausting couple of months commuting back and forth to Louisville to do Astronauts, tearing back and forth shooting Hickory Hideout while the weather was good for outdoor shooting, writing program notes, guest hosting AM Cleveland, and teaching. But on the Sunday night I got back from Louisville, Will called to say that the actor who was playing Voltaire, Pangloss was very ill and couldn't do the run, could I do the role? I hadn't learned to say, "No" at that point in my life, so I said, "Sure." We opened in about a week, so I had my work cut out for me. I had never done a show with Joe Garry, and there wasn't time to "work" with him on this one. My years in stock paid off in situations like this. I had to learn the lines and the blocking and get dressed and do it.

One of my most vivid recollections of this run was the presence in the house of the first lady of France, Mme. Mitterand. She was seated onstage in special seating we had erected in the Bolton so the play could be in a sort of pseudo round. The risers looked a little like the ones used in the Broadway production of Equus years ago. The theater was crawling with Secret Service all day, but they were very polite and discreet. I didn't think too much about it until at one point, Voltaire moved to say something directly to the person in the seat occupied by Mme. Mitterand. Suddenly there were several burly men in suits moving toward the edge of the stage just out of sight. They never disrupted a thing once they knew I wasn't an assassin. They were so efficient, I believe I was probably the only one aware of their very real presence.