My recurring stress dream is always the same: The cast of my college production of Nicholas Nickleby has been called together to reprise our roles. We haven't rehearsed, or even been given scripts to brush up with. We're supposed to just show up and still remember everything.

What makes this especially nightmarish is that Nicholas Nickleby is no ordinary 90-minute play. It's a lavish adaptation of Dickens' thick novel of the same name, with eight and a half hours of stage time. That's pure...