The Greatest Showman #995 - West End Salary

In the long alley behind the Almeida Theater, the warmth of lively discussions seeped from the crowd, quietly dispelling the chill of the night. The talks about the play—whether professional or not—came from everyone, not just Renly, but from the audience as well. The buzz of conversation brought the group together, forming a shared energy that echoed the charm of London's West End.

"Are you sure you're all right? It's really cold tonight," Renly observed, noticing a few shivering figures in the crowd. "If you're freezing, I could get some coffee for everyone—at least it's something I can do."

"No need," "We're fine," "We're okay," came the cheerful replies, each with a slight smile.

Renly couldn't help but grin, relaxed. "Don't worry about my bank account. From what I hear, the Almeida Theater's been doing pretty well these past two weeks. A coffee's the least I can offer, but I might stretch to a doughnut, and that's my limit. Looks like the backdoor crowd's bigger tonight, huh?"

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

The West End has never been a place for actors to get rich. In Hollywood, even the most minor supporting role pays at least $50,000. Extras in major films can earn $150 a day, sometimes more if the conditions are rough. But in the West End, the average weekly salary for actors is only £500. Even those in the top cast earn less compared to Hollywood's hierarchy.

The reason is simple: In the West End, there are usually many actors in a play, and unless you're the absolute star, everyone's paid similarly. Furthermore, London's box office revenue and investments have been significantly lower over the past decade, leaving actors' pay stagnant.

If making money were the goal, returning to the West End or Broadway would be a foolish decision. Many prominent British actors perform in these theaters not for the money but for the art. Some even appear for free or accept a nominal fee for their performances.

In the case of Les Misérables at Almeida, it's well-known that Renly is the draw, with his commercial value outstripping the rest of the cast. But despite his star power, Renly's salary is exactly the same as that of Michelle Dockery, Charlotte Kennedy, Daisy Ridley, and the rest: £600 a week.

Though the play's producer, Andre Hamilton, is no stranger to wealth, business, and production standards are still strictly adhered to. With Les Misérables being a massive six-hour production, and given the pioneering nature of the show, it was placed under immense financial strain. As a result, the cast's salaries remained close to the industry's average.

At £600 a week, Renly's total earnings for the 12-week run of Les Misérables comes to £7,200—before taxes. That's less than what Renly earned for Crazy in Love and even lower than his pay for a single episode of The Pacific. In a city like London, it's tough to make a living with such pay.

By contrast, during filming of Edge of Tomorrow, Renly's salary exceeded $10 million. After winning the Oscar, it was rumored that Paramount and 20th Century Fox were offering him $10 to $15 million for future projects. Yet, without even negotiating, Renly returned to the West End, accepting the paltry £600 a week for Les Misérables.

In fact, when compared to the film version of Les Misérables, where Hugh Jackman earned $8 million (for an art film, not a commercial one), Renly's choice to return to the stage at such a low salary made a clear statement: he wasn't in it for the money.

This put to rest any rumors that Renly's return to the West End was a publicity stunt after Crazy in Love's Oscar win. Despite such claims, his body of work has always spoken for itself, and any doubts about his commitment to the craft were quickly forgotten.

Comparing Renly's Hollywood salary to the West End pay makes it clear how far apart the two industries are. The West End and Broadway have long been in decline, and part of the reason lies in the relatively meager salaries. This has created a vicious cycle, with fewer actors opting for stage work because of the low pay.

Yet, this is also why many veteran British actors continue to return to the West End, often at low or no cost, to sustain the theater and preserve the artistic integrity of the stage. For those who won't return, there's an unspoken tension among their peers.

Everyone who loves the West End knows about the struggle actors face. Renly's words about his modest pay were a self-deprecating joke, but, for him, it was a reminder of how little financial reward there was in this line of work.

"That said," Renly grinned, "let's wrap up for tonight. I need to take a hot shower and get some rest for tomorrow—no, today's show," he said, his smile never fading. "Thanks again for your support. I hope you enjoyed the performance tonight."

Rebecca raised her hand high and called out, her clear voice cutting through the night, "Master, take care of yourself, get some rest, and good luck with today's performance!"

Renly's smile widened, a warm, full expression. "You all head home now. No more subway, so be careful on your way back! Need me to cover your cab fare?"

"Master, careful or you might go bankrupt!" Rebecca teased, and the crowd burst into laughter.

Renly waved at them, turning to leave, but Rebecca watched him as he disappeared down the alley, his tall figure fading under the soft glow of the streetlights. Everything felt beautiful in that moment.

Turning to her friends, Rebecca said, "There's still two and a half months of performances left at the Almeida Theatre. Next time, when we wait here, let's stay sensible and calm. The young master is working hard—at least, we can maintain order for him."

"Right, right, I agree! To be honest, after performing all day, he's still here chatting with us—he's truly an angel!"

"Let's stay organized so the young master doesn't have to worry about us," another friend chimed in.

Rebecca nodded, her heart warm with satisfaction. She loved Renly, loved the fans who gathered in this shared appreciation, and loved the West End that made it all possible.

Tonight's backdoor chat had been brief, lasting less than ten minutes, but Renly's exhaustion was evident, and Rebecca knew the next evening would be even longer. At least there was a rest day coming up, and that would be a chance to relax.

Once the backdoor crowd had dispersed, Renly stepped out into the bitter night air, pulling up his coat collar against the wind. He pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number. "Where are you now?"

The car's headlights flicked on, cutting through the darkness. "See me?" Matthew Dunlop's voice answered.

After the show, Matthew had stayed behind. Knowing that Paul and Meadows would be chatting for a while, and anticipating that Renly would need him later, Matthew waited. When Renly called, Matthew was ready.

"Yes, I saw it," Renly waved as he spoke. "Did you get my text? Or were you just waiting around?"

"I know Tom missed the last train," Matthew replied succinctly.

Renly, standing at the crossroads, muttered to himself, "The forecast didn't warn us about this cold snap. Why is it so brutal tonight?" He caught himself, then added, "Hey, Mr. Cuaron, didn't expect you to still be here."

Renly blinked in surprise as Alfonso Cuarón, looking frozen, approached. "Jesus, are you sure you're okay? You look like you're about to freeze. Where's your mate?"

"Oh…" Alfonso shivered, clearly underdressed for the weather. "She... went back to the hotel. I stayed behind to... well, talk."