On a balmy Manhattan evening, the blossom bursting into life along these sunlit streets, I went to the opening night of RED on Broadway last night. Despite having seen the play already, at the Donmar Warehouse, I was blown away all over again. Not only has the production - which was incredible in London - somehow stepped up a gear, but the performances, from Alfred Molina as Mark Rothko and Eddie Redmayne as his assistant Ken, were astonishing. And it was amazing to watch that play, so New York-centric, among a New York audience; to hear the moments of self-recognition that they evidently found most amusing, or poignant, or close to the bone...

What a thing! A play that engages - and occasionally assaults - you aesthetically, emotionally, intellectually. And what a testament to the power of live theatre... of which more later.

The audience were worth watching too - Martin Scorsese, Christopher Walken, Sam Rockwell, Justin Long, Frank Stella (who is mentioned in the play) to name but a few of the luminaries hanging out at Gotham Hall afterwards ... and the Brits on Broadway were out in force: Eddie, Ruth Wilson and Rupert Goold (all recent Olivier winners), Adam James; and the very fabulous Lucy Prebble and Polly Stenham, both gorgeous twenty-something female Brits who have plays opening on Broadway (Enron and That Face). A pretty rocking bunch. Needless to say, long after the Yanks had retreated home to bed, we were still making the best of the free bar and sneaking fags on the sidewalk. Ah well. You can take the Brits out of London....