My Time at Temple Studios, Part 22

Show #22

Friday, May 16: 9 pm

After a brief queue interlude, I was right back inside. A quick cast board perusal made my path clear – I was going to go check out Greig Cooke's Fool. I had been very impressed by what I had seen of Greig thus far, but William is not one of my favorite characters – really, I tend to shy away from all of the leads at Punchdrunk shows. I just find side characters so much more compelling most of the time. So when I saw that I had the opportunity to watch Greig do something other than William, I knew I had to take it.

Once we were through the dark maze, I got my first look at the new male exec, Stevie Fortune (Alex Mugnaioni). He's definitely got a lot more Ace than Larry in him – a little more taunting, a little more teasing – and of course, he's wearing Ace's jacket. He also clearly recognized me from the loop I did with him as Conrad just an hour earlier, giving me a couple of knowing looks and punching me in the chest (stopping just short) as he told us to “be bold.”

On exiting the lift, I hotfooted it back up to the main floor, knowing that the Fool would be – well, somewhere around there. In my experience, Fools are a bit wily, and you won't always catch them in the same spot. I passed through Studio 4, then into the dressing room, but saw no sign of him. Out into the hallway and into Studio 2, still no sign of him. As I left Studio 2, however, I saw him coming out of the far stairway, with another white mask already in tow. How did that happen?

The two of us followed him back into Studio 2, where Wendy (Katherine Cowie) was already in the midst of her tree dance. The Fool climbed atop the table next to the pool and began to direct her, by turns looking like an orchestra conductor and a puppeteer. It was much more showy than I remember this portion of the loop being – in fact, I'm not sure I'd seen this sequence at all before. My fading recollection of the two Fool loops I'd done previously is that we didn't come to Studio 2 until toward the end of the tree dance, and just watched the retrieval of the scissors in the pool. But maybe I'm misremembering. Either way – new scene or enhanced scene, it was a very cool way to start off the night.

Once Wendy departed, we moved down to the birthday tent, where the Fool puttered around for a bit until Lila (Kath Duggan) arrived. I wound up feeling kind of lukewarm about the loop I did with her way back when (it was interesting but not emotionally involving for me), but ever since then, I've found myself more and more pleased to see her whenever our paths cross. Kath's Lila has become comforting to me. And her smile is certainly a treasure – so it was great to see the Fool deliberately working to cheer her up. All in all, the whole scene felt reminiscent of Paul Zivkovich's Fool – the kinder, more caring Fool. He also looked very troubled after reciting “We live inside a dream,” further aligning himself with Paul's side of the scale.

After taping up his script/map, the Fool led our pleasantly small crowd down to the basement, where we were reunited with Lila in the Foley room. The drowning scene in there is one of the most disturbing in the show – both Lila and the Fool start out completely on board with their task, and even seem to perform it with a bit of gusto and enthusiasm. But by the end, it's clear that neither one of them is at all okay with what's going on, despite the fact that they just keep going with it. They can't stop. It would be different if one was really the aggressor, but they're both victims. Highly unsettling.

Next up was the oddly lengthy journey down a short hallway, which was drawn out by the parade of women that passed by (well, okay, two women), each stopping to kiss him in a spotlight. Eventually we looped around through Stanford's dressing room and up to the curtained stage, where the Fool peered through the curtains at the orgy. Surprisingly, he did this alone, and did not bring a white mask up to watch, as I've seen other Fools do in the past. This is consistent with Greig's Fool as a whole – he doesn't seem all that aware of or interested in the white masks. Other than the eventual 1:1 selection, I'm struggling to recall any instance when he noticed the audience around him. Very unusual for a Fool in my experience.

Back upstairs, we stopped off in the dressing room, and suddenly the Fool took off at a run into Studio 4. I followed after, and between us was that other white mask who had somehow found him before me. This is how much of the loop had worked out – she was small, fast, and liked to follow closely, with short little steps that almost looked like she was hopping. When we reached Studio 4, the Fool began his usual running in circles routine, and the other mask was so wrapped up in following him that she just kept run/hopping after him in a complete circle around the room! After that initial circuit, she seemed to realize what was going on and pulled off to the side, but for some reason, she continued hopping. Yes, she hopped up and down in place until the Fool stopped running. Explain that one.

When he finally did stop, the Fool launched into what is probably the most bombastic display I've ever seen in that room. Hearts were exploding and launching from his chest repeatedly and at length. Eventually he calmed down, clapped the clapboard, and then things got a little sinister. I had gotten used to this Fool feeling “kind of like Paul,” but when the time came for him to get scary (and the time had most certainly come), he got a lot darker. A lot. Downright sinister, you might say. I think he may have actually enjoyed tormenting Marshall (Jesse Kovarsky), relishing each hop of the pawn – and then, rather than drop it, he flung it hard against the clapboard, sending it flying off to some unknown corner of the room.

He remained in creepy mode even after Marshall was gone, heading into the kitchen area and. . . .huh.  Hiding behind the door. When Andrea (Fania Grigoriou) came in to get some water from the cupboard , he stepped out from behind the door, now concealed behind the open door of the cupboard. After an agonizingly long pause, she closed the cupboard and revealed him, at which point he grabbed her throat and slowly pushed her over the counter. None of this was in any way familiar to me, which was pretty damn exciting. Once she was back in the dressing room, though, things returned to their normal course, and after a quick chase over to the snow room, the Fool returned to the dressing room to fix his makeup. At this point, I believe we were back down to only two of us watching him – just me and the girl who'd been with us from the beginning. The makeup application stretched on (and again, he did it all himself). . . and then, finally, he looked up and locked eyes with me – the very first time I saw him even acknowledge the existence of a white mask. He grabbed my hand and rushed me over to Studio 2, and then to Studio 8.

As usual, I will not describe the 1:1. But I'm tempted to, because it was not at all what I was expecting. It started off in the usual way, then eventually veered off in a new direction. I never even saw the [SPOILER] that you normally encounter at the climax of it. Honestly, I'm not sure if the whole experience was the result of a string of technical failures or if he was trying out something different. But either way. . . .

It was great. And terrifying.

I've never been that unsettled in the show before. I'd done the usual Studio 8 1:1 twice before (once with the Fool, once with Conrad), and neither of those got to me the way this one did. So when he sent me back out into Studio 2, I found myself in an unusual state – I needed to go sit down somewhere and get my head back on straight. I needed some recovery time.

I headed up to the town, and more specifically, the drugstore, a place that typically makes me happy. But no sooner had I taken a seat than Andy (Rob McNeill) and Miguel (Ed Warner) came in to do their routine with the gris-gris. Suddenly I was surrounded by a horde of white masks. Not to mention the fact that the room was steaming hot. This was clearly not what I needed. So I did what any rational person would do when looking for someplace a little cooler – I went to the desert.

The desert was very nearly deserted, which was exactly what I wanted. I took a seat in the Dust Witch's chapel and just enjoyed the quiet for a bit. By this time I was starting to formulate my next plan – follow the Dust Witch. The cast board said that Leslie Ann Kraus was playing her, and I'd heard some impressive raves about her Dust Witch. I figured she'd probably show up in around 5-10 minutes, by which time I should be fully ready to move on.

Turns out I was ready to go in five. I left the chapel and wandered in the dark a bit, straining to see any sign of her in the dark. Five minutes turned into ten. Still nothing. I checked out some of the side rooms, including the one with the Scarecrow sitting at the desk, which I had never been inside before. Eventually I noticed that “Old Friends” from Sunset Blvd. was playing. Which meant Miguel should have been having his breakdown in front of the Dust Witch. Which meant she should not only be out there watching that, but should already have been moving about, preparing for it. Which meant what the hell's going on?

Nothing was going on. Nothing at all. Other than the music and my own footsteps, there was no sign of life. No Miguel. No Dust Witch. Before long, no “Old Friends.” Nothing but me. Another minute later, even I was gone.

My plan in shambles, I stopped off at the Horse and Stars to visit the Barman (Daniel Whiley). There were already a couple of white masks propping up the bar – I'm not sure how long they'd been there, but hopefully not too long. He's a quiet one, and there wasn't a lot happening. Eventually he wandered over to the far side of the bar and gave the woman there a shot. Then he came back over and asked (using gestures alone) if I wanted one, and repeated the question to the other woman at my end of the bar. We both answered in the affirmative, raised our shot glasses to one another, and downed them. About that time I decided I needed to go find something more interesting to watch.

And hey, what could possibly be more interesting than Faye Greener (Lily Ockwell)? It was, coincidentally, just about time for her dance at Dwayne's trailer, which I had only recently decided was one of my favorite dances in the show. Having seen it twice already in the previous two shows, performed by two different people, I figured I may as well go for the hat trick. I certainly didn't wind up regretting the choice. Lily's version of the dance falls somewhere between Sonya and Katie's, not as smooth as the former and not as edgy as the latter, although it leans more toward Katie's version. It doesn't really feel like just the middle ground, though – there's an attitude there that's unique to Lily. Hard to describe – I almost want to say there's a smugness to it, but that sounds pejorative and I absolutely don't mean it to be. Long story short – when I saw bits and pieces of Lily's Faye in March, I wasn't thrilled with it. I figured she was miscast in the role. The trailer dance went a long way toward reversing my opinion, and convinced me that I needed to take a longer look.

This was not the time for that, though, as I had a third-loop plan in mind already, and time was getting short. I considered switching over to Andy for a scene or two, but as soon as Faye took off, he disappeared into a 1:1. This left me without anyone to follow, but I knew I wanted to be back inside the studio (specifically, in the basement) by orgy-time – so I headed back inside, via the clothing maze.

Once I got into the Seamstress's workroom, I heard some unfamiliar sounds coming from the Doctor's office and followed them in to find William (Ygal Jerome Tsur) just finishing up his examination. Time was getting quite short, so I decided to just hang around with the Doctor (Oliver Hornsby-Sayer) for a bit. That meant leaving the office almost immediately, as he took off to creep down the hallway in that creepy way that the Doctor creeps.

At the far end he took up a position in front of the doors and waited, his pen light at the ready. Ah-ha. Dolores is on her way. This threw me for a moment, as somehow I got it in my head that this scene happens much earlier in the loop. But here it was: Dolores (Sarah Dowling) did indeed come barging through the doors, and the Doctor did indeed chase her aggressively back to the office, mercilessly spotlighting her the whole way. It was definitely intense and effective (particularly the moment where I found myself behind her, so that she was silhouetted against the light), but I have to admit, I kind of missed Rob McNeill's double-fisted police searchlight technique.

I stuck around to watch him give her the injection she needed, and then it was time to get down to the orgy to pick up my third loop character: Stephanie Nightingale's PA. I found her, as expected, right in the thick of things, doing all the usual PA stuff at the orgy. On the way out, she passed right by me, giving me a look that said “You are going to start following me. Right. Now.” However did she know?   I followed her out to the frisky corridor, where she stopped just short of the far door. She examined her reflection in the glass, preened a bit, then slowly bent over, thrusting her butt back at the crowd in a manner that could best be described as unsubtle.

“Ooooooooeeeeeeee.”

There it was. Some asshole white mask was apparently so taken by this that he felt the need to comment out loud. I sighed to myself and tried to focus on – er, the scene. But then it continued. “Wow. Wowwwwweeeeeeeee.”

Come on, man! I turned around to give this guy a glare, and that's when I discovered that the asshole had a name, and that name is Leland Madison Stanford (Sam Booth). Ah. . . . sorry, sir.

Stanford approached the PA, two white masks in tow, asking everyone if they had seen the orgy. Then he and the PA began demonstrating why some call it the frisky corridor. Their interactions weren't quite as extreme or bizarre as when Fania Grigoriou was the PA (there was no eyeball licking), but they did retire to the corner to be by themselves for a bit. Then he told her to do it all one more time, and the mood immediately changed course. She slapped him and stormed off. I took off after her, just as Stanford shoved one of his white masks in the same direction, instructing him to “help her out.”

Things went the way they usually go after that – a walk down the white corridor, a brief explosion of rage, and then a little twist – in her office, the PA gave a white mask (the one Stanford sent after her) a soul-sucking kiss on the wrist. I haven't seen that before; it's always been on the neck. Then she climbed out the window (!) where she found Dolores in full Grandmother mode, stumbling down the corridor. She stopped long enough to taunt and laugh horribly, than ran upstairs. Another bit that I'd never seen before.

We made it to Dolores's bedroom well before she did, so the PA passed the time by playing with a handheld mirror, particularly shining it in the face of that same white mask from before. Then Dolores arrived and she shined the light on her instead, chasing her over to the snow pile. As the PA climbed up with her, preparing to take the grandmother mask off, things took yet another new turn. Instead of helping to free Dolores, she wrapped her arm around her neck, in a mirror of William's murder of Mary, and strangled her to death. The mask came off when Dolores's lifeless body slipped out of it. Now I'm positive I hadn't seen that before – but it made so much sense it was kind of hard to believe that was the case. Suddenly every version of the scene that didn't feature the strangulation felt incomplete.

After getting Dolores ready for her day, the PA gathered up the Grandmother costume and headed downstairs, followed by a massive pack of white masks, myself included. I wound up right behind her going down the stairs, but had to spend the whole time staring at my feet, trying to hold back the surging tide behind me and keep from stepping on the cloak, which trailed dangerously far behind her. When we reached the moon room, she grabbed the same white mask from earlier and took him inside.

This presented me with a dilemma, or perhaps an opportunity. This loop was completely rammed. So many people it was ridiculous. And the PA had clearly picked this guy for the long term, which meant that following her would require waiting through not one, but two 1:1s. Perhaps. . . it was time to go? Stephanie plays the PA a lot, surely I would have the opportunity to try again, maybe on a loop 1.

Ugh. I hate aborting a loop mid-stride – but it was clearly the logical choice. I headed upstairs, uncertain about exactly what to do. I had to find someone to follow, but it had to be someone I didn't mind missing the first couple of scenes for – which ruled out my first idea, Ira Siobhan's Claude. I didn't want to do his loop unless the casting desk dance with Alice was included. Then it hit me: the Gatekeeper. Time to finally see what he's all about.

. . . or maybe not. On the way to his office, I passed through the hallway alongside Studio 5, and I was suddenly reminded of something else I wanted to see. Change of plans – time to check out Annabeth Berkeley's Seamstress instead. One of these days, Gatekeeper.

I heard a woman's voice coming from her workroom and figured she must be mid-scene with someone. I rushed in, excitedly, only to find a white mask chatting with her friend. Damn it. A quick mental calculation sent me off in the direction of Studio 4, where she was most likely watching Wendy and Andrea film their scene – and sure enough, as I arrived she was just walking out. I quickly fell in line behind her, leaping a small pile of set decoration, half-tripping on another, and generally making an ass of myself. Let's not do that again.

The Seamstress's next stop was the dressing room,where she stopped to collect costumes and write “They are everywhere” on the mirror. The creepy glee she seemed to take in this was awfully unsettling. I've heard this scene spoken of by others many times, but I think it's the first time I've ever seen it happen. And come to think of it, I've hardly ever seen anything written on the mirror at all. How do I keep missing it?

Following a quick jaunt upstairs, the Seamstress disappeared with another white mask into a 1:1, so I had a bit of downtime and went to explore the wig room for a bit. When she emerged (unlike several other Seamstresses, she exited the room with her white mask, not afterward), we headed into town for her illicit exchange with Tuttle (Matthew Blake). I really love the way it played out – like a schoolyard drug deal. Tuttle was already seated on the bench when we got there, and the Seamstress sat at the other end. She slid her little bottle over to him, he slid a small packet over to her. Not a word passed between them until she opened up her package, which turned out to be a few red jellybeans wrapped up in a piece of paper with a crescent moon on it. She had to express her excitement at that point. I found it curious that he paid her in red jellybeans – last time, he explicitly refused to let her have the red ones.

Back inside through the clothing maze, the Seamstress sat down at one of her sewing machines – and I though I was about to be treated to yet another new scene. I'd never actually seen her use one of them – but it turned out she was just killing a few seconds before Stanford arrived. They had their talk about Romola, he departed, and then the Seamstress grabbed another white mask for a 1:1. So yes, I bailed on the PA's loop so that I wouldn't have to wait through two 1:1's and wound up waiting through two 1:1's. There's probably a lesson in that somewhere. At any rate, I took the opportunity for a bit of a quiet walk around Studio 5, during which Psychotic Reaction by The Count Five played. After seeing it all over the playlists, it was nice to actually hear the song within the show itself.

By the time she emerged from the 1:1, Faye had already come by, changed into her new dress, and left – the Seamstress just had time to say “there she is. . . “ before she wasn't anymore. She headed back through the clothing maze into her shop, and for some reason, I was the only one that followed her. There, she prepared some sort of medallion – not one that I recognized – by dipping it in a tiny jar of some sort of liquid. Satisfied with that, she looked up at me, then started stringing a different charm on to a ribbon. The whole time, she kept looking up at me with a sly smile. After doing it twice, I find this scene to be really awkward to deal with. She keeps looking at me, and I keep standing there, doing nothing. Plus, as much as I want to maintain eye contact, all the action is down at her hands, and I keep looking there – only to feel really sheepish when I realize that she's been watching me the whole time. It's really hard. Harder than the talky 1:1's that everyone agonizes over.

Eventually she finished and headed back into the maze, indicating that I should follow her. I did so, bracing myself for an assault – but it never came. Instead, she put her hand on my shoulder and slowly, gently guided me to the back wall. She told me that I was in a dangerous place, that I needed to be very careful and that I couldn't trust anyone. Then she put the charm around my neck and told me it might help.

Then she giggled.

Yes, giggled. Like a little girl. Was she amused by the idea that the charm might help me? Was it funny that I was in danger? I'll never know for sure, because she took off at speed, still giggling. I swear, she's like an evil pixie.

I suppose another way to look at it is that Annabeth's Seamstress is kind of what you would get if you were to take the skin of Sonya Cullingford's Seamstress, wrap it around the heart of Kathryn McGarr's Seamstress, and then force-feed a mountain of sugar to whatever you wound up with. She's got the kind, sweet demeanor, but it's amped up to such a degree that it easily betrays its own artificiality, revealing (in a more subtle way) that sort of gleeful nastiness that typifies Kathryn's version. It's tremendously entertaining to watch – I think she just might be my new favorite Seamstress.

Back in the workroom, she grabbed her clipboard and took a trip over to the Doctor's office, where he gave her the instructions for Romola's makeup. She returned to the workroom, noted the instructions on the page, then set the medallion from earlier on the paper and dribbled blood from a jar all over it! Then, just to make matters worse, she took the bloody medallion, along with the dress that Romola would eventually wear, and stood in the doorway with them, presenting them just as Romola herself (Sarah Sweeney) passed by on her way into the bowels of the studio. That's. . . just sadistic.

Once Romola was gone, she took the items over to her work space in Studio 5 and set about preparing things for the Infidelity Ballet. Unlike my last Seamstress, she didn't do any creepy whispering to any of the white masks – but she also seemed to be a little more central to the action, positioned more onstage, so it was clearly related to a broader shift in focus. She did, however, engage in the usual creepy whispering with Andrea (Fania Grigoriou), and she attacked that moment with gusto. Whatever that horrible, secret thing she said that upset Andrea so much was, she clearly enjoyed saying it.

Then it was time for Romola's scene. After helping her dress and turning her loose on the set, the Seamstress returned to her backstage work area to spend some quality time with the medallion – namely, holding it up to the light and running her fingers through the blood that still coated it. Then she went back to the workroom to get ready to do Romola's makeup.

I wound up holding the clipboard for her while she transformed Romola into a car wreck victim, after which she took it back with a chipper “doesn't she just look perfect?”  Somewhere around this point I realized I had completely lost track of the medallion.  Did she slip it into Romola's purse?  Or was there a pocket in the dress?  Did she put it around her neck and I just somehow spaced that moment out?  Or did the Seamstress still have it?  Very frustrating.  But there was no time to investigate - It was already time for a quick jaunt down the hall to help the Doctor give Romola her pill, after which everyone went with either Romola or the Doctor, leaving me alone with the Seamstress. I followed her to the 1:1 room, which was occupied by a lone white mask. The Seamstress chased her off and took me inside, locking the door. There we had. . . well, I guess it was a 1:1? She never took my mask off, but we were behind a locked door. Anyway, it was basically the same scene from the end of my last Seamstress loop (Show 19), except done in private. And yes, I said “no apron” again.

As we left the room, she warned me that we were going to have to run. I took her hand and we ran, passing another white mask on the way. The Seamstress shouted back “You're going to miss it!” but that didn't seem to make a difference. We made it down to the murder with plenty of time to spare, and afterward she seemed kind of surprised and pleased with how far I threw the rose. She dropped me off near the stage and told me to stay near the steps, an instruction that I had no qualms about obeying. After the finale, she returned for me, leading me to a corner of Studio 3 near the bar and removing my mask.

“Well, you were just perfect, weren't you!” she exclaimed as she handed it back to me. Then she was gone. I can't say I agree with her assessment – I definitely had a couple of iffy choices and dead-end paths (“surely the Dust Witch will be here any minute!”), especially if you factor in both shows that night. But that's the beauty of Temple Studios – behind every failed plan is another opportunity, so even if you kind of screw it up, things still have a way of working out.

My Time at Temple Studios, Part 21

Show #21

Friday, May 16: 5 pm

One of the side effects of my late flight on Thursday was that I didn't have a chance to run down to the National Theatre and pick up my tickets for the rest of the weekend, so I (unusually) had to hit the box office before each show. This led to moments like the one before this show, where I walked up to the box office and barely got an “O-” out before the nice lady behind the counter cut in with “Omura, right. . . “ and handed me my ticket. As the song says, sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. Other times, you wonder whether that means you've been too many times, then immediately dismiss the idea because, honestly, is there such a thing as too many times?

My target out of the lift was obvious as soon as I saw the cast board: Adam Burton as Stanford. As much as I love Sam Booth's Stanford, I do enjoy that we're finally branching out into some solid alternative interpretations (such as James Traherne, see show #16) – and Adam seemed an inspired choice. I found him in the Temple, setting up for the initiation. We were quickly joined by a small handful of white masks, who followed him around the room in circles as he did his work while I smugly positioned myself next to the platform, in a spot where I could watch him on either side of the curtain by moving only two steps to one side or another. Or maybe I was missing out on the fun. At any rate, Adam's Stanford seems much more particular about his work here, making sure everything was positioned just so, even taking time to adjust the angle of the baseball bats. Then he did an intriguing little dance, mimicking a knight chess piece, and grabbed one of the other white masks for the 1:1. Uh-oh. Dilemma. I want to follow Adam's Stanford. I don't want to spend a chunk of magic hour waiting for him to emerge. I also don't want to be that jerk who leaves just because he didn't get a 1:1. But. . . magic hour. So few shows left. Aaaargh. . . .

Honestly, when I lay it out like that, it's two arguments for staying against one for leaving. So of course, I left. Why wouldn't I choose the option that makes no sense in retrospect? I suppose I figured that I'd only been there for five minutes, so it's not like I was backing out of a loop I was invested in.

I rushed upstairs and came across Wendy (Leslie Ann Kraus), just as she was pulling the scissors out of the pool. Here we go – Wendy is one of those characters you need to follow for the first loop, on account of crowd size as the night wears on. And I had meant (and failed) to follow her during my March trip. New plan initiated.

I followed her to the dressing room, watched her hide the scissors, and then the PA (Fania Grigoriou) showed up. Even in just those few short seconds, she was incredibly intense and frightening – and had, amusingly, already amassed quite the crowd. She took us in to the bedroom, where I was treated to the most intense Wendy/Marshall (Fionn Cox-Davies) fight that I have yet had the pleasure to witness. There was, in particular, a great moment when Marshall was standing atop a dresser and lifted Wendy up into the air by her neck. From where I was standing, I could just barely see that he had his foot in the small of her back, supporting her weight, but it was still tremendously effective. And then the whole thing concluded with her going after him with a candlestick holder – not something I remember from 2013.

After that, I got my first glimpse of the Leslie/Kirsty Arnold pairing as Wendy and Andrea. They are absolutely adorable together. There's a spark to their friendship that I never quite felt with any other pairing. And visually, they just look like they belong together. It's wonderful. I followed them up to the Infidelity Ballet, which was, as usual, great. I think Sophie Bortolussi will always be “my” Wendy, but I can't deny that Leslie's Infidelity Ballet is unimpeachable. She owns the entire scene, top to bottom, so much so that my attention didn't drift over to Andrea and her red dress even once (I have a bad habit of doing that). It's really fascinating to watch her flip back and forth between her natural exhausted/terrified/distraught state and her peppier on-camera persona.

On the way downstairs afterward, we got to hear an unfamiliar bit of crazy speak in the stairwell as she stopped, looked at a few of us, and said “I can hear them. I can hear them everywhere.” Then Andrea caught up with her and we were treated to the lovely walk-and-talk where they get excited about the party. It's all about the emotional peaks and valleys, here. The tragedy wouldn't be as tragic without these moments of light to contrast.

Not much to say about the orgy – not only have I seen it a bazillion times, but I've seen it with Leslie's Wendy several times as well. After we returned to the dressing room, I did really like the way her focus gradually shifted more and more toward that spot in the rafters where the scissors were hidden. The murder itself was interesting, as it was the first time I'd seen an interim murder since the last time I did a Wendy loop, all the way back in December. It's a very different, much more compelling experience watching it with a crowd that numbers in the dozens, not the hundreds. I also got a bit of a kick seeing Alice (Emily Mytton) skulking about near the bottom of the hill, guiding her white mask around. I'm not sure exactly what it was about her body language, but I found the image absolutely hilarious. I'll definitely need to do another loop with her before it's all over.

Post-murder we ran up the stairs to the studio gates, and then right back down again to Studio 4. I still haven't figured out the ideal spot to watch the gate scene from, and I don't think I've ever felt it's impact as fully as I should. It seems like it should be a big deal, but it always winds up feeling kind of like an interlude before we get back to starting the story over.

After the snow room scene, which again benefited from the wonderful chemistry between Leslie and Kirsty, we were off to the birthday tent, which was already packed with white masks and is, sadly, the one scene in the show that I would actually call poorly staged. Cramming that many major characters into that space, and then having several of them sit down? For anyone other than the first dozen or so white masks to arrive, half of the people in that tent may as well not exist. Fortunately, Wendy spends much of her time up on the stage in the corner, so I could at least keep track of the person I was following. But still, it's tough. Other than the above, two things stood out to me about this scene. First, Leslie was absolutely dwarfed by Frankie (Daniel Whiley) and Eugene (Monsur Ali), which worked very well for the scene, as it made it more clear (for those of us in the cheap seats) how much she's being bullied into participating. Secondly, I think we may be at a point where every single guy who dresses in drag (and there are maybe 7 or so, across the two characters) has either a beard or a moustache. Which is not particularly meaningful, but I find it just a touch amusing.

Next up was her scene with the Doctor (Ira Siobhan), which was creepy and uncomfortable as usual, as well as absolutely rammed. When Stanford appeared behind the screen, I was really impressed by how simultaneously menacing and effete he looked, and was painfully reminded that I had originally intended to follow him for this loop. Ah, well – it's not as if I didn't enjoy my Wendy loop. Speaking of which, this was the point where I decided to bring it to a close, two scenes early. I did really want to watch her tree dance, but not with second loop crowds. That scene in particular needs a lot of space to be fully effective, and I kind of feel like it's the sort of scene you catch at the top of the show or you don't catch at all. 

Based on some enthusiastic queue discussion, the other person I really wanted to catch this show was Alex Mugnaioni's Conrad. But I wanted to catch him from the beginning of his loop (or close to it, anyway – starting with him in the Seamstress shop would do), which meant I needed to wait until third loop. So I decided to do something a bit atypical for me – I didn't do a second loop at all. I just wandered, catching bits and pieces of things, and exploring a few rooms. I started this by sticking with the Doctor, but he disappeared into a 1:1 very shortly after Wendy left. Next up, I headed into town by way of the board room, and took a peek into the semi-hidden large room with the pile of scripts for the first time on my way. In town, I decided to check in on Tuttle (Ben Whybrow), as I hadn't seen his Tuttle before – but the shop was empty. I wandered into the bar, thinking I might spend a few minutes with the Barman, but he was nowhere to be seen. I headed over to another room that I'd never set foot in before, the small triangular one off to the left of the chapel. Finally, I realized that we were nearing time for Faye's dance at Dwayne's trailer, and decided that was where I needed to be. I didn't really want to do a loop with Katie Lusby's Faye, and probably never will again – the loop I did at show #16 was so absolutely perfect that any attempt to recreate the experience would be doomed to failure. But I was very excited about checking in and revisiting some highlights. I headed into the motel room through the back door, but it was empty. Apparently my sense of timing is not what it should be (then again, when has it ever been?). I was just about to give up and try something else when Faye stormed in, followed by a mercifully small crowd of masks. I watched her seethe for a bit and make with the drinkin', then we were off to the trailer. The dance there was amazing, and very different from Sonya's the night before, just as I had thought. I was mistaken about one thing, however – when I saw Sonya do it, I thought it was the same choreography, just performed in a very different style. Revisiting Katie's dance so soon afterward, I realized it was not at all the same thing, they just had a few common touchstones (like that dangling crossed-legged swing, which strikes me as one of those things that is probably harder to do and more impressive than it might seem at first glance). I also noticed that she pulled that landing-next-to-a-mask-and-looking-over-her-shoulder trick, thus confirming that it was indeed deliberate last time (and as far as I can tell, unique to Katie).

Toward the end of the dance, some newcomer started pushing his way through the crowd, apparently unclear on the concept that we were all trying to give Faye enough space to dance. He actually walked all the way up to the trailer, and stood right next to her! Unbelievable.

Even more unbelievable? The fact that it took me so long to realize that this guy wasn't wearing a mask at all, and was, in fact, the new Andy (TJ Lowe). D'oh. This was my first look at him, and while there wasn't much to go on, he seemed like solid casting. He has a very kind face. I thought about picking up with him for a bit, but to me, Andy is more of a full loop sort of a guy, rather than a setpiece guy, so I decided to wait until someday when I could stick with him for longer. Instead, I left Faye as she headed upstairs and went off to check Tuttle's shop again. I arrived to find the door locked and Tuttle disappearing under the counter with a white mask. Ah, timing. Fortunately, just about then Harry (Edward Halsted) showed up, rambling drunkenly. So I watched him for a bit. He handles this scene quite well, as it plays into that more crotchety demeanor that he has. When he sat down in front of the camera, I also noticed for the first time that he makes explicit reference to George Buchanan, the missing character. I'm sure all the Harrys do, but this was the first time it stood out to me.

When he wandered off I headed back to Tuttle's shop, where I found the door still locked – but Tuttle himself was sitting in the window, writing in his notebook. I took up a position to the side, where I could read what he was writing – it was a double page spread of character names. Every time he saw someone walk by, he put a question mark after their name. When William came by, he directed him over to the hoedown, shouting through the glass. Kind of an odd effect. I also noticed that when Faye passed by, he spent an awfully long time staring after her, which I appreciated. The Faye obsession is something I like about Tuttle, but which doesn't seem to be present, or at least isn't prominent, in many of the incarnations.

Eventually Tuttle emerged from the shop, red paint in hand, to go to work on the motel wall. It's a fun scene, mostly because running away from the Gatekeeper with him adds a touch of visceral excitement. Afterward, he let us all inside the shop just long enough for him to put his paint away, then closed up again, keeping one lucky white mask inside. Time to move on again.

Fortunately, I didn't have to go far to find my next scene: William (Greig Cooke) and Andy were already standing just a few feet away, beginning their post-hoedown scene at the fountain. Two new performers in one place? Sign me up. The scene played well – both of theme seemed very comfortable (of course, Greig wasn't brand new), although I didn't hear a lot of effort going into the American accents (or lack thereof). Certainly enough to pique my interest in spending some more time watching both or either of them. I wound up following Andy into the Drugstore when he rushed off, as I wanted to take a look at Lucia Chocarro's Drugstore Girl.

I made it inside just in time for the most epic postcard spill I have yet encountered. When Andy hit that rack, the cards flew EVERYWHERE, and the mess stretched all the way into the phone booths. Oftentimes in the drugstore, one wonders whether it would be appropriate to help her pick them up. That was not the case this time. Three or four of us all joined in, and even then, we didn't get it all done before the Grocer (Monsur Ali) showed up. The look she gave me when I handed her my stack was incredibly tragic, and it was right about that time that it dawned on me that I was really enjoying my piecemeal loop, which I found a little bit surprising.

The scene between her and the Grocer played out largely as I remembered, with a couple of minor twists – the most significant being that she took the script with her over to the phone booth. The timing was also a bit off, as there was a long, awkward pause between the Grocer saying “It's for you,” and the phone ringing. This was actually the least crowded the Drugstore had ever been for this scene, at least in my experience, so I took the opportunity to follow her over and try to get a better idea of what happens over there. Her dialogue wasn't particularly revealing (“yeah. . . okay.”), but I was close enough to just barely pick up a male voice on the other end of the line – which means that somewhere out there, elsewhere on the set, it must be possible to see and hear the other side of the conversation. I have no idea who it could be – Stanford seems the obvious choice, but I've followed him and he has no such phone call. It's a mystery, and one that we are running out of time to solve, sadly.

After her collapse, the Grocer dragged her across the floor and left her in the middle of the room (which is a really unpleasant thing to see), then left. After a brief visit from Harry, she revived, completing her reset, and then took a white mask into the third phone booth (that's new!). Well, well, well. Things are always changing in Temple Studios. It was a good stopping point anyway, though, because it was time for me to catch up with Conrad. I headed over to the Seamstress's shop to wait for him.

As has become the norm for me, my timing was slightly off – specifically, I was early. I poked around the shop a bit, then poked around some more, and finally decided to go outside – which happened to be exactly the moment that he came to the door. Of course. There was no way for me to get out of his way, and he had the look of a man on a mission – he wasn't stopping for anything. So I immediately backpedaled, retreating into the far corner of the shop and standing awkwardly beside him,staring out at the rest of the audience, as he changed into his drag outfit. This also meant I was the one who wound up zipping up his dress, a task I concluded with a quick double pat on the shoulder, as if I was letting him know it was okay to drive away. I guess I wasn't sure he would be able to tell that I had successfully zipped him all the way up, but looking back, I'm not sure why I thought that. What a weird thing to do.

At any rate, I was pretty well on board with Alex's Conrad right from the get-go, even though I hadn't seen him do much of anything yet. He just had a certain presence about him that felt right for the part – smooth and suave, but kind of off-putting as well. That last part is really important for Conrad.

We headed out to the Horse and Stars for Conrad's cabaret, which was quite impressive. I was particularly intrigued by how rough he was with William – when he climbed over him on the bar, he looked like some sort of wild beast preparing to devour its prey. A lot less flirting, and a lot more aggression than I was expecting. Afterward, he stuck around as usual to seduce the Barman (Ed Warner) – or at least, take a stab at it. Last time I did a Conrad loop, I discovered that the curved end of the bar was easily the best spot to watch this scene from, as the intense backlighting produced a very striking image, so that's where I settled in. This had a second, unexpected benefit – it meant that I was only a couple of feet away when Conrad finally leaned in to kiss the Barman, and at that moment, I got to hear him say something that made me laugh out loud for only the second time in the show.

“Pal, we're going to level three.”

But of course, it was not to be. There would be no level three that night. The barman rejected him, Conrad stormed out, yelling about enlightenment or advancement or something like that, and stomped through town in his underwear. He led several of us into one of the motel rooms for his cult/self-help instruction session. He wasn't fooling around – when the person he instructed to hold the door shut failed to do so, inspiring someone else to hold the door instead, he refused to continue until the original person he selected took over. After that, it was time to remove his high heels and stockings. And guess who he picked for that task?

Let me tell you, the rest of the room LOVED it when he stuck his foot out at me. Now, removing clothing from another man is not something I generally have much (any, really) interest in doing. But on the other hand, I do enjoy getting to participate and interact with the characters, so I certainly didn't mind doing it in this case. But since everyone else was so amused by the fact that Conrad was making me undress him, I decided to play up the discomfort quite a bit, making sure to pause and look around at everyone before I removed each shoe. Conrad was clearly on the same page, playing the sequence for all of the humor he could muster. When he offered me the first stocking, he pulled it down partway and pulled the end far away from his leg, so that I could pull it off without getting that close. The second stocking, however, he left right on the leg. The rest of the audience was eating this right up, and I have to admit I got a real kick out of their amusement.

The second stocking almost came off without a hitch, but then it caught on his heel and began to tear. “Don't break it, baby,” Conrad said, producing one more peal of laughter in the room before he dove into his lecture. It was the usual – life and death becoming one, things looking different in the light and the dark – but he delivered it with confidence and a surprisingly light touch, then ended it with a dramatic zipping of his fly immediately after the concluding statement. This very nearly resulted in my third out-loud laugh. But not quite.

In case it isn't clear at this point, I really, really liked Alex's Conrad. Every step of the way, he was just nailing it. I never thought I'd say this, but he might even be better than Adam Burton's version (clearly, I'm going to have to revisit that one to see for sure). His take on the character definitely leans closer to Adam's than Ben Whybrow's, but with a little added kick – a fire, an animal side that shows itself on occasion and stands in stark contrast to Adam's colder, slow burn.

With the lecture concluded, we headed into the studio, pausing momentarily for the Gatekeeper (Paul O'Shea) to extort a bit of cash from Conrad – an attempt which failed, since Conrad had no money on him. Oops. First stop inside the studio was the dressing room, where he pulled me in for a rather intense 1:1. Afterward, we came out and joined Andrea (Kirsty Arnold) for a walk to Studio 3. This was a pleasant surprise – it had slipped my mind that Conrad's loop meant I was going to see the magic trick.

I settled into a seat near the stage, briefly catching Larry (Matthew Blake)'s eye as they set up for the trick. He arched an eyebrow at me – in recognition? Or does he just do that to everyone? No matter – back to the magic trick. It was just as fun as it always is, and spun off in a slightly new direction toward the end. Once he speared Andrea's dress, Conrad got angry. Really, really angry – much more so than I've seen before. Each subsequent spear through the box was shoved in more quickly, more roughly, more aggressively, until the final spear – the one straight through the center. He really took his time with that one, twisting and pushing like he was actually trying to stab her to death. It was almost uncomfortable to watch (and by “almost uncomfortable,” I mean “totally awesome.”).

After the performance came to an end and Andrea popped out of the box in her underwear, the two of them had their usual fight about not sticking to the plan. It amuses me to no end that some Andreas lose their dress and some don't, but Conrad always chews them out for it either way. You just can't win with this guy.

Once Andrea was gone, it was time for the PA to come have her little fight with Conrad – and once again, I was amazed by Fania's ability to walk into a room and just take ownership of it, even before she does much of anything. That's presence right there. Once the PA got what she wanted and departed, Conrad awakened and began to prep for his scene with Romola. He started dressing, pausing for a moment to say, “Honey, you look tired. Why don't you sit down?”

Well. I've been to this rodeo before. I know what's going on. I'm not falling for it. Let someone else take him up on his suggestion – ideally someone who hasn't seen this. But no one else moved. I made an awkward, half-hearted move as if looking for a chair, but left it at that.

Conrad was not willing to leave it at that. He fixed me with a glare in the mirror and repeated himself: “Why. Don't. You. Sit. Down.”

Okay, then. I pulled out the chair next to him (the only option, really), and had a seat. He continued running his lines, soon reaching “baby, could you give my shoulders a rub?” I obligingly reached up, but as soon as my hand made contact he took off. I do really like that scene, as I'm a big fan of any time the actors mess with the white masks. But I do wish one of the newbies (or maybe that's it - maybe there were no newbies in the room) had taken the bait, instead of me having to play along as if I didn't know what was happening. Ah, well.

Next stop was Studio 5, where I got my first look at Lily Ockwell's Romola. I had come into the trip very excited to do a loop with her, and the only reason I didn't follow her at this show was because I had just done Romola at the show prior, and I figured I'd have another opportunity later in the weekend (spoiler: I didn't. Curses.). Can't say I got much of an impression of her take on the character, since this was the one scene where she is least herself. I did notice that she also seemed to play up the mesmerized/controlled angle when she went for the keys to a greater degree than I remember from the early months of the show, but not quite as much as Sarah Sweeney did. And that's sadly about all I can say. Next time, Lily.

After the scene concluded, Conrad wandered off to the side of the room, where he was instructed to head to Studio 8. His response – a brief but aggressive dance sequence. Or sort-of dance sequence. It started out similar to how I remember Adam's reaction went, but quickly devolved into a total collapse. One could make an argument that he just died, then and there. I suppose it's a way of giving some closure to those of us who are not lucky enough to make the journey into Studio 8 with him.

Speaking of: just as we left the Studio, I noticed that we had picked up a 1:1 Hunter. He had all the telltale signs – he showed up just prior to the upcoming 1:1, he was suddenly sticking to Conrad like glue, and, most tellingly, every time we turned a corner or paused, he made certain to get slightly ahead of Conrad – that is to say, where Conrad could see him. Once we reached Studio 8, Conrad took a look at everyone around him. . . and grabbed the hand of a girl I didn't recognize. I won't lie, I was disappointed not to see that final scene with him, especially after kind of being his guy for the rest of the loop. . . but hey, that's the way the cookie crumbles. And I have to admit that any disappointment I felt was heavily mitigated by schadenfreude at the fact that the new hunter didn't get it either.

With very little time left in the show, there was no point in wandering far, so I headed back to the dressing room to watch Andrea for the last few minutes. I'm pleased to say that when she went into the kitchen area, I managed to not stand between her and the cupboard when she went to get water! Fifth time's the charm, apparently. I'm so proud of myself.

Soon we were all herded back into Studio 2 for the murder. I hung back and watched from the stage, which has become my usual plan anytime I don't have a walkdown, then got myself a nice seat right at the front of the steps for the finale. While I stood there, awaiting the signal for everyone to sit down, I suddenly felt a rain of creepy spider-fingers on my shoulders. I turned around to find the PA standing there. She slipped past me to the stage, holding my gaze with a classic Punchdrunk stare as the walked by.

When the lights came up at the end, I was treated to a pleasant surprise – Larry, standing above me, his hand extended. It was my very first spontaneous walkout, after 21 shows. Granted, I've had walkouts before (just a few), but only when my walkdown has specifically planted me somewhere and come back for me. I'd never been selected for a walkout 'just because.' Until now. What a nice feeling.

He took me into Studio 3, where Luna (Kathryn McGarr) was waiting. She removed my mask and they both immediately started gushing over my performance, and telling me how much of a crime it would be if I don't get the academy award. They've really got that Hollywood exuberance thing down pat – the way they stood together, heads side by side, leaning in aggressively with big smiles and wide eyes – it's just a little bit scary. Which means I loved it. A fine end to a solid show, although the spectre of missing out on Adam's Stanford and Lily's Romola did cast a little bit of a shadow over it.

My Time at Temple Studios, Part 20

Show #20

Thursday, May 15: 7 pm

I never intended to return to Temple Studios so soon. I figured I'd make my way back sometime toward the end of June, roughly bisecting the time between my March trip and what I presumed would be the end of the run in September. When the actual closing date of July 6 was announced, however, I had to do some emergency rescheduling, and booked this trip to, again, roughly bisect the time between my March trip and the end of the run, which I will of course be returning for. Perhaps it's all for the best – what with all of the exciting cast shuffling since my last trip, I was getting pretty antsy waiting for June to roll around.

Things got off to a bit of a rough start for me – a delay in my flight meant that I landed only a few hours before I got into the queue, with no time to pick up tickets at the NT or rest and recover. Then in said queue, and with only five minutes to go, I tore my right contact lens, meaning I would have to spend the show half-blind. Or half-blurred, at any rate. Not exactly the condition I wanted to be in for my triumphant (hah!) return, but hey – you play the hand you're dealt. As soon as I walked through those big red shutters, I found myself caring very little about these issues.

My plan was always to start with Romola. She's one of my favorites, and I had largely done without her during my previous trip. For once, I was unconcerned about who would be playing her – all of the currently active versions were on my to-do list. In this case, it turned out to be Sarah Sweeney. My experience with her to this point was pretty limited – one night as Phoebe, and a few lift intros (since I never spend time in Studio 3 during the show). I liked what little I had seen, though, so I was excited to see what she could do out in the show proper.

The last time I tried to catch Romola right out of the lift was at Show 10, way back in December. At that show, I tried to follow her path through the likely locations (trailer park, Horse and Stars, Grocery), only to find, after cycling through them twice, that she had somehow bypassed me entirely and made her way to the grocery without passing me. This time, I figured I would go the opposite way – run backwards through her journey, and intercept her somewhere along the way. So I passed by the grocery – no sign of her. Took the tunnel around into the Horse and Stars – no sign of her. Into the trailer park – no sign of her. So much for that plan. I continued making my full loop back into town, and what did I find? Romola, in the grocery, mid-scene with the grocer (Monsur Ali), How did she get there? I'll never know (actually, I do know – see show #25, coming soon).

There was enough of a crowd already in there that I wasn't able to make it inside, so I sadly only caught bits of the scene. Oddly enough though, once she left the shop and headed for the Studios, I was the only one that went with her. Throughout the whole time in the office, only three other white masks came in, and two of them left almost immediately. It was in here that I first started to get a feeling for what Sarah's Romola is like. She seems to be much less of a complete person than the others I've seen. All of them are obviously missing a part of themselves, but in most cases it's just the memory, while with Sarah, it seems more like she doesn't quite think and process correctly. It puts me in mind of the older conception of Romola, as revealed by the drafting room file, as a literal automaton (in the vein of Olympia from The Sandman). When I first read that, I knew the idea must have been abandoned along the way – it just didn't fit with what I was seeing. With Sarah's version, however, it seems very plausible.

Another thing she did in the office, which I loved, was the way she took a child-like glee in some of what she found there, particularly zipping around the room on the rolly chairs and spinning herself in circles. It's the sort of thing I previously mentioned liking in Sonya Cullingford's take on the roll – little bits of joy to contrast the doom and gloom – but to an even greater degree. On a side note, once she finally got down to typing, she was really churning out quite the tome – but I sadly never got the chance to see what it was, as she left it in the typewriter instead of passing it on to the nearby white masks (or white mask singular, in this case). I guess I could have lingered to check it out, but we all know how I am about following people. Probably just the grandmother's story or something like that anyway.

Moving on, deeper into the studio, we came across James Traherne's deceptively friendly Doctor, who I hadn't seen for a while but always enjoy. He has a way of seeming so nice, but making your skin crawl at the same time. When he cornered Romola by her shrine on the way down, he was also the first person I've heard actually speak the Doctor's name (Justus Leibig) aloud in the show, even if he did mispronounce it (he said Lee-big, rather than Lie-big).

Next up was the Stanford (Sam Booth) scene. Even though it seems like Sam has been slowly leeching the empathy and warmth out of it in favor of evil and manipulation in the months since I first saw the scene, it still feels very different from his interactions with every other character in the show. As for Romola, this scene was where I really took notice of just how well Sarah was selling the timid, fragile side of the character – especially impressive considering how tall she is. She was completely overwhelmed by Stanford.

The scene ended with another bit of a surprise change – although I'm not sure if this is a case of something changing, or a case of “Brian, you idiot, you just failed dialogue comprehension 101.” One of the last things Stanford says to Romola is “you put all humanity to shame.” I've always taken that to be a simple statement of fact – he believes she is something special. It played well into all of my early Stanford theories. This time, though, it went a little something like this: “Put them all to shame. You put all humanity to shame.”

My god. It's an imperative. He's basically saying “go get 'em, tiger!” That. . . has an effect on the landscape.

We returned to the first floor and had another run-in with the Doctor, who did not get Romola to “autograph” the petite plan application. Amusingly, he signposted this fact, commenting that he wanted to get her autograph, but forgot his pen. Then it was into Studio 5, where I saw the new Seamstress (Annabeth Berkeley) for the first time. She is definitely the loudest, perkiest Seamstress I've seen, with a lot more southern flavor than the others.  Definitely want to see more of her.

Then came the scene with Conrad (the newly moustached Adam Burton). In another interesting bit of acting that made Romola feel less like a person and more under external control, when she went to get the keys from behind the picture, she kept her arms frozen in position from massaging Conrad's shoulders, looking kind of like a classic/stereotypical hypnotized person. All of the Romolas play that bit as if they're somewhat mesmerized, but Sarah really brought that aspect to the fore.

Soon Romola was made-up for her car crash and dosed (surprisingly quickly and roughly) by the Doctor, and headed out into town. By this time, we had a pretty good crowd. I mean, of course we did – it was nearly 1:1 time. We burst out into the town, and it dawned on me that the soundtrack for Romola's journey to the motel was Walking in the Sand. No wonder I get so emotionally keyed up right there. Not far from the door into town, Romola fell to the ground and wrote in the last bit of her notebook. Then she looked up and locked eyes with a girl who had been with us since around the Stanford scene. Looks like I'm going to be left out on this one. But then she turned and locked eyes with me for a moment. Looks like I'm in.

Then she ran off. Hmm. Surprise, surprise. She made it almost to the motel and then stopped, surrounded by a throng of masks. She turned back and caught my eye again, then approached, parting the crowd. “Help me?” she asked. “Will you help me?”

Don't have to ask me twice. Even though I guess she did anyway.

After the 1:1 concluded, she brought me to the car. I'd done this bit twice previously, and all three of my experiences have been very different. Katie Mcguinness slowly fell asleep in the car, rousing herself and drifting off again repeatedly until finally, there was no more rousing to be done. Miranda Mac Letten died suddenly, before any sort of realization could sink in. Sarah also met her end quickly, but managed a brief moment of realization before it happened, turning to me with pleading eyes just before her collapse and whispering “it's a trap.” This is definitely my favorite version, as that final moment of realization made it much more painful. It was effective enough that it kept the scene from being ruined by an overzealous white mask who didn't think that watching through the window was enough, and actually had to stick her head into the car right behind Romola, holding her face just inches behind the head. Had Romola leaned back at any point, it would have been disastrous.

That same white mask also decided that, as long as Romola is dead, she may as well reach down between her legs and swipe her purse. Fortunately, after rummaging through it for a few minutes, she decided to return it. But still. Damn vulture, show some respect for the dead.

Eventually she woke up and the loop began anew. I followed her into the woods – or, I should say, almost into the woods. She caught a glimpse of Miguel (Georges Hann) up ahead and stopped short, then turned back to hide amongst the laundry behind the motel, a course that took her straight through me. This was actually about the fourth time during the loop I had managed to (unintentionally, I swear) position myself exactly in her way, and even I was getting frustrated with myself. Or maybe it's just something to do with Sarah Sweeney – after all, I had managed to do the exact same thing in the lift with her Exec (see show #16).

Anyway.

While she was hiding, I glimpsed one of those moments that I wish I could have taken a picture of. The way the shadows fell across her face looked like bruises and massive trails of running mascara, enhancing her already bloody and bruised (with makeup) face. She was grotesque – completely destroyed – but also beautiful, all at the same time. One of the most striking images I've seen in the show, and it was probably just serendipitous positioning – an inch or two in either direction and the effect would be lost.

Thinking Miguel was gone, she emerged into the woods – but there he was, sneaking and circling. Last time I saw this scene it was more of a dance, with the both of them swinging around the trees in concert. This was very different – Romola was somewhat stationary, while Miguel looped around her in wide circles, disappearing into the dark and reappearing in the light. It was very difficult to keep track of him – he just kept popping up somewhere else. The overall effect was almost like a horror movie. Very effective. Eventually he caught her and put her briefly to sleep, dropping a note that said “don't close your eyes” on to her lap.

When she awoke, she stumbled over to Dwayne's trailer, where she found two people already inside. She threw them out, then grabbed me by the hand and pulled me in for the other 1:1. Incidentally, while this one occurs prior to the other in the loop, I actually found it very effective to experience it afterward. It almost felt like she recognized me/remembered me from the motel earlier, rather than just from some nebulous point in the past.

After the 1:1, she ejected me from the trailer and remained inside for a moment. I decided to explore for a bit while I waited, and settled on her trailer as the best option. I stood just inside the doorway, reading a letter from her family in some small town that I can't remember, when I felt a rush of air behind me. I turned to see Miguel, having impossibly slipped past me, settling in to sleep on her bed. Ah-ha – uncharted territory. This is when the Badlands Jack eviction scene is supposed to happen – but now that there's no Jack, I was going to see something new.

Or new-ish, anyway. Romola emerged from Dwayne's trailer and immediately joined us. She laid down next to Miguel and ran through the text of the 1:1 I'd just had, only with him in my place. It actually played like a different scene, though, not just because of the different blocking, but also because of how she played it emotionally – much warmer and more loving, less sad. Still felt a little weird to basically see the same thing twice in a row, but it worked.

This marked, essentially, the end of my Romola loop. There was a bit more – she cleaned herself up, started a new notebook page, and asked the Barman (Ygal Tsur) how to get to Temple Studios. But I decided against sticking with the crowd and trying to get a space inside the Grocery to completely finish out my loop. It felt complete. So when she left the Horse and Stars, I peeled off from the others and headed for the studio gates.

My plan, originally, had been to move on to the Doctor for my middle loop. Or middle half-loop, anyway, as I had somewhere specific I wanted to be by the time the next reset rolled around. I realized the problem with this during my Romola loop – the particular portion of the Doctor's loop that I would catch is the exact same portion that overlaps heavily with hers. It would be mostly (70%? More?) repeats. I still wanted to do a loop with Traherne's Doctor, but I would just have to wait and hope I would have another opportunity (Spoiler: I didn't. Oh, well).

Instead, I decided to check in on one of the newer cast members, Pascale Burgess as Alice. I found her mid-way through “That's an arm” in Studio 5, and watched from a distance. My snap judgement? Solid, but she's not going to make me forget Emily Mytton. Not that I could really tell much from where I was standing – but at least her voice projected well. One of the fringe benefits of not trying to push my way to the front, though, was that I was well-positioned to follow her and Claude (Omar Gordon) out of the room – for all the good it did me, sicne the first thing they both did upon arriving in the basement was disappear into the changing rooms. With a couple of minutes of downtime, I circled through some of the back rooms of the basement, which I was largely unfamiliar with, then made my way back to my usual spot in the Masonic Temple for the initiation. It felt a little different than I remembered – a little looser, perhaps, with the movements and choreography not as crisp – but it was also more aggressive. The moment that best typifies this is Stanford's miming of slitting Frankie's throat – it used to be a clear series of movements – put the finger up, pause, run it across his throat, pause, drag him away. This time it all flowed together and was really a bit more frightening, a little less of a performance. Also, this new Frankie (Daniel Whiley)? Seems like a good fit. He comes across as really, really young – a kid, really, surrounded by all of these adults.

After it was over, I followed Alice out and she brought me in for her 1:1. For those of you who have had it, all I will say is that they seem to have eliminated the button at the top of the zipper. Either that or I just failed to find it and completely embarrassed myself. In the end, she remained in the room after ejecting me, so I wandered over to the back room of the Temple and poked around until she emerged for the rolling desk dance. I have to confess, this is a scene that's lost some of it's luster for me. I'm not sure why – it used to be one of my favorites – but now it just doesn't excite me like it used to. Maybe I've just seen it too many times. Of course, one of the upsides of seeing it so many times is that I know how to watch it. There are two really good vantage points – between two pairs of pillars that stand close together. Plant yourself in there, and you'll be right near a lot of the action, but you'll never get run over by the desk. The rest of the people in there were not aware of this trick, and I was treated to an ongoing display of white masks leaping out of the way as the desk swung their direction.

Since I was following Alice, I remained in the room after Stanford left for the first time since. . . wow, since my first batch of shows in September. I had forgotten how much that dance took out of her, as she seemed on the verge of collapse, barely able to return the desk to its starting position. She perked up quickly enough, though, and was perfectly able to manage a quick jaunt through the hallways to retrieve Stanford's wheelchair. We brought it back to the Temple and then. . . orgy time. This was actually a very exciting moment for me, because suddenly I was faced a vast array of newness. I saw Stephanie Nightingale's PA for the first time – she's absolutely tiny, but has a very commanding presence. There's a new Dolores, Bryony Perkins – she looks good, real movie star quality, but so, so young. Kirsty Arnold (Andrea) has a very fetching new haircut! And then there's a familiar face in a new role, Omar's Claude. I had seen a bit of him earlier, but this was my first good look – it was definitely weird to see him all cleaned up.

Come the end of the orgy, it was time for me to take my leave. As I mentioned before, I had somewhere to be – I was going to spend the rest of the night with Faye (Sonya Cullingford). Of course. Now, you may be asking yourself why I scheduled things like this, rather than just doing a loop with her as soon as I finished up with Romola. The reason is that I've come to an important conclusion, and that conclusion is that I never want to follow Faye for anything other than a third loop. I just don't like the idea of the story petering out as she goes to bed sad. But the third loop, with the alternate happy ending. . . that's a bit of magic right there. That's something I can get behind.

I found Faye just heading into the Horse and Stars for her song, so I took off and explored the town for a couple of minutes – had to save that scene for the end of the loop. This mostly involved me poking around the motel office until I suddenly realized Romola and her chosen white mask were making a beeline for the door, and I needed to skedaddle before I ruined everything.

I returned to Faye just as her song was ending and Harry (Edward Halsted) was trying (and failing) to cheer her up. Although I've seen Sonya's Faye before on multiple occasions, Edward's Harry was new to me. He's different from the others – a little older, seems a little more crotchety. I'm not entirely sure, but I think he may be putting on a little bit of a Burgess Meredith voice. The biggest difference, though, is that his Harry feels more like a stage performance, where as the others I've seen are more film-like. That is to say, they're pitched to a closer audience, while he seems to be playing out a bit more broadly. Totally legitimate direction to take it, but I have to admit, not really my preference.

One thing I was very interested in was the differences between Sonya's Faye and Katie Lusby's Faye, who I last followed in show #16. While I was writing that show up, I spent a lot of time thinking about what made Katie's Faye distinct from Sonya's, and I was curious to see how well those impressions held up while revisiting the other side of the equation. Turns out: they held up pretty well. Sonya's Faye feels older than Katie's, certainly much more self-aware and more openly sexual. Case in point for that last comment – I was watching during the Dwayne/Faye/Mary number to see if Sonya would duplicate that moment where she popped the top button of her shirt before trying to get Dwayne's attention. Somewhere toward the end of the dance, I finally realized that she couldn't do it, because the shirt wasn't buttoned at all- instead, she had tied it off, leaving a bare midriff. Her interactions with Harry in the motel room also felt a little more like conversations between equals - doubly surprising, given that the last time I saw Katie's Faye, she was paired with a Harry who was her brother, not her father..

On the way into the studios, I caught another little bit of amusing new business – the Gatekeeper (Paul O'Shea) shining his light on Faye's chest rather than her photo when checking her credentials, causing her to angrily cover up. New material or something I just never noticed before? Beats me. This, of course, led into the Codfish Ball audition, which I always enjoy. Again, the power differential here is so different from how it is with Katie's Faye. When Sonya's Faye decides to take charge, she really takes charge, if only temporarily. There's a certain bit of glee in watching her stomp around Claude's head after she throws him to the ground.

Coming out of the audition, I started to notice just how tired I was. Thirty-two hours since I had last been in a bed will take it out of you. But there was no way I was going to let that get me down. After all, it was the last loop. Besides, after a brief stop-over in the Horse and Stars, a little something special I like to call, “Bulldog,” was going to happen. And so it did. As usual, there's not much to say about it that I haven't already said, but I do want to mention one extra touch – Faye and the Drugstore Girl (Lucia Chocarro) decided to bring a teddy bear with them over to the kitchen cupboard, making it an equal partner in their singing, head-dancing routine over there. Very cute, as were Faye's expressions every time she looked over at the bear.

Not long after, we were outside in the street, watching Dwayne (Oliver Hornsby-Sayer) and Mary (Kate Jackson) dance on the car. Faye winced at every major hit in the choreography, a nice touch. Then we were in the motel and it was time for the booze to come out. In an interesting contrast to how I've described her thus far, Faye seemed really unused to drinking like that – she kind of gagged, and coughed, and generally seemed unhappy with it. . . but kept drinking because she's Just. That. Upset. Then we headed out to Dwayne's trailer for her dance in the doorway. Prior to my last loop with Katie's Faye, this was not a scene I ever thought much about – it was just there, a moment in between plot points. Filler. But during that loop, I found it completely compelling and fascinating, so I was excited to revisit it and see how differently Sonya performed it – the answer is, completely differently. The choreography was the same (or so I thought. . .see show #21 for more), but the style and the tone was a full 180 from what I had seen before. Where Katie's dance was all about the short, twitchy, aggressive movements, Sonya's was smooth, graceful, and flowing. If I had to pick one word to describe it. . . dreamy, I think. Katie's dance was all about her anger and pain. Sonya's dance was about what could have been. . . until the harsh turn at the end, reminding us that it's a fantasy. Faye was also more openly flirtatious with Andy (James Finnemore), whereas Katie's version had seemed a little more uncomfortable with him.

Next up was a trip to the desert to confront Dwayne. This was the point where I was really starting to fade. . . I almost wondered if I was going to make it through the rest of the show (sheesh. . . all twenty minutes of it). I wound up hanging back a bit and not really getting a good look at the desert dance, sadly, but on the way out, I did pick up on yet another fascinating difference between the performances. Here, Faye ran off, laughing, and singing “Catalina La O” in a taunting fashion. When I saw Katie play the part, she only made it a few steps before stopping to throw out a venomous “Screw you, Dwayne Shoop.” One kept the strategic high ground, running off and pretending like she hadn't a care in the world. The other let her anger get the better of her and sabotaged her whole strategy, letting Dwayne know that it was all about him. One comes from a place of understanding the game, the other is new to it.

I realize I'm spending a lot of time discussing these performance differences – but what can I say? I find the whole subject utterly fascinating, and Faye is the character I've seen the most of - and thus is the best candidate for such musings. 

But enough about that – back to the action. Next up: Hoedown. It's great. Nothing much else I can say about that, but it was interesting to get my first look at the Grocer's involvement (replacing Jack), as well as his funny new hat. I followed Faye and Miguel out of the hoedown, and down the street as they slowly, distractedly, made their way to the motel. Now, up to this point the crowd around Faye had been pretty thick. But to my surprise, by the time Miguel took his leave of her, nearly everyone had left. There were maybe three white masks remaining in the room, including me. As Faye sat down to drink some more, I took a seat on the bed (ah, bed. . . ah, sleep. . . ), which also afforded me a new perspective on the scene (normally I stand behind her and watch her reflection in the mirror). Perhaps I shouldn't have done so – when Faye got up to leave, she caught my eye and stared at me the whole way out of the room with a look of shock and horror that I still haven't been able to completely interpret. Was it as simple as her starting to see the ghosts that are following her around? I guess I have to assume so - but it was absolutely chilling, one way or the other.

She made her way back to Dwayne's trailer and had a further drunken breakdown there, then caught my eye one more time. She stumbled over to me for a repeat of that moment in December (show #13) where she asked me to dance – but this time, she didn't ask. She just threw her arms around my neck and kind of hung there. Last time, I agonized a bit about whether or not to respond to her request to dance, ultimately deciding in the negative. This time, I decided to give it a tentative try, narrative appropriateness be damned. She didn't seem to notice, and finally pulled away just as before. I guess my first instinct was the correct one.

After that came Walking in the Sand, another scene with a different context, as the dialogue with the bartender framed it as a sad attempt to prove that she really does have what it takes to be a star. Mid-way through, Harry turned up, and we were off into my beloved alternate ending. I really enjoy how the dialogue seems to be completely different every time I see it. In this case, Harry had a whole spiel about how the Studio people told him to bring Faye, even though he really, really wanted to bring a different guest – but no matter how many times he begged, they insisted that he bring her. It's a really nice bit that showcases that teasing yet comforting dynamic between them that I love so much. Once we got to the murder, Faye grabbed my hand and watched it with me, then danced with me onstage. I'm proud to say that I've almost reached the point of handling this interaction competently. Not quite there yet, but at least I've progressed from “agonizingly embarrassing.” She did still make sure to spin herself right at the beginning, before I had the chance to foul it up, though. She's a clever one, she is. Then, in the blink of a (blurry) eye, it was all over. One down, five to go.