Molière with an English accent - sacrilege! How could it have happened?

It's a rather long story.

Every year, in summer, the theatre director Jose Manuel Cano-Lopez, puts his life and reputation at risk by putting on a show in the streets, courtyards and barns of the little township of (not so) Grand Pressigny.

This "Theatrical Journey" through a "Nocturnal Landscape" is far from the "sons et lumières" put on at the major chateaux of the region where hundreds of "extras" wave their arms around to a sound of a recording in a well worn show in front of stands packed with thousands of spectators.

There are certainly hundreds of actors, but it is an intimate, ephemeral, live show where the risk of a slip-up is always waiting just round the corner. There are no stage hands to move the scenery - the scenes are played non-stop in a loop and it's the audience that moves from setting to setting - and even if you were to stay for the full three nights you would not be able to see the whole show.

How did he manage to find the hundreds of actors needed for this mad undertaking? It's a concentrate of Grand Pressigny's own very temps - shopkeepers and craftsmen, workers and unemployed, professionals and farmers, schoolchildren, students and senior citizens, diluted with good quantity of summer visitors, theatre lovers come to help out . . . and an Englishman.