Earlier in the year, I hit a seriously big birthday. I still think I've been fooled and I'll wake up aged 18 and - like Bobby Ewing in Dallas - find it's all been a dream. But I have a sneaking suspicion it's not and time has really flown by almost in the blink of an eye.
It started like any other day. The early morning studio call came far too early, as it always did, and as Maxwell Murphy walked across the lot to Stage 58 in the cool crisp Hollywood air, the heat of the sun still to reach his skin, he silently rehearsed the lines he’d learned the night before. He wasn’t the first […]