If you cut Berkoff open he’d have theatre running right through him.
There was a danger that his passion for his profession could compromise the authenticity of his latest piece but although there were a few swipes at those who’ve rubbed him up the wrong way, it was very honest.
Berkoff was on fine form waxing lyrical about life as an actor, likening them to messengers of the gods while Jay Benedict played a playwrite who had his own fair share of opinions on the atttitudes of the thespians who brought his words to life.
The star of the show for me was Andree Bernard’s Sarah an actress frustrated at life in the wings as an understudy to a nervy soap starlet.
The pacey dioalogue of the play gave the trio all the ammunition they needed to fire some, at times, unapologetically scathing bullets which were soaked up by a highly appreciative audience.
This was a collective that were at their best when spitting out venom-laced lines in a Shakesparian like manner.
The applause they received as they took their bows should be echoed once the show opens in Edinburgh on Saturday.