Sunday, May 18: 5 pm
Once again, my adventures came to an end with one final Sunday show
before I headed back home. This time was a little different, though
– for the first time, I finished a batch of shows with the next
round already booked. There wasn't even a possibility that it would
wind up truly being my last show. I think this was a good thing,
overall. It took some of the pressure off, and I was able to just
treat it like any other show. Ideally, I would like to start doing
it this way every time I come out to see The Drowned Man – but
sadly, when my next trip comes to an end, so too does the show
itself. Too little, too late.
I made a deliberate point beforehand not to come up with a specific
“dream plan” for the show, like I had done the last two times. I
would just wait for the cast board, make a decision then, and let it
go from there. When I made it inside (this time, the box office lady
had my ticket out and ready before I even got there, a nice touch), I
found that there were four loops that I really wanted to see: Adam
Burton's Stanford, Ira Siobhan's Claude, James Traherne's Harry, and
Leslie Ann Kraus's Dust Witch. Four loops to see, three loops so see
them in. Something had to go. It was immediately obvious that I
would have to drop either Stanford or Claude – their big setpieces
overlap, and they spend a lot of time in similar areas.
Harry and the Dust Witch have essentially no overlap with each other
or with either of the other two. Between Stanford and Claude, then.
. . well, there was no way I was going to let Adam's Stanford slip
through my fingers (not a second time, anyway). So yes, after an
additional six shows, I managed to continue my streak of not
following Ira's Claude, despite very much wanting to do so. Next time, I'm
doing eight shows. Somewhere in there, I'm going to fit him in. I
swear it.
My usual Stanford loop is the first one, but I decided against
starting with him again – if for no other reason than to avoid
walking up to him right at 1:1 selection time again.
Instead, I revisited an idea from the way I ended my last batch of
shows – start out with some quiet time in the desert, then do the
Dust Witch.
Out of the lift in town, I headed for the stairway off of the Horse
and Stars. There, I saw Romola (Sarah Sweeney) emerging from said
stairway. I stopped and stared, watching as she cut through the
saddlery on her way to the Grocery. Ah-ha! That's how she always
eluded me! She emerged from backstage after I passed by, and then
took a shortcut! I was supremely thrilled to have sorted this out,
despite the fact that it is surely not a revelation to anyone other
than me.
By the time I made it up to the desert, there was already a white
mask waiting outside Miguel's tent. Must have taken the staircase by
the Gatekeeper, then. I made a quick check of the Dust Witch's
chapel to make sure she wasn't there – I had heard that Leslie's
Dust Witch emerges later – and set about refamiliarizing myself
with some of the wonderfully creepy rooms that they have up there.
Unfortunately, I wasn't able to really enjoy the same sense of
isolation that I had experienced before, because the white masks just
kept pouring in. I saw more than a dozen of them up there before I
even laid eyes on an actor for the first time. It was frankly
bizarre to see the desert so densely populated. Finally Dwayne
(Alistair Goldsmith) showed up, entourage in tow, and the first
actual scene began – although I have to admit that I continued
poking about the side rooms until Faye (Katie Lusby) showed up. Then
I got to enjoy her desert dance (always a treat), and once she,
Dwayne, and Miguel (Ed Warner) left, they took all the other masks
with them, so I was finally alone in the darkness.
Soon after I heard the first strains of the music from “Signs,”
and headed for the scarecrow funeral. It was just about time to
begin - but I didn't find anyone over there and for a moment, I was
afraid that the Dust Witch was actually missing, like she seemed to
have been on Friday. But then I heard the faint sound of a door
closing, somewhere off where I couldn't see, and soon after she
emerged from the darkness, as if she had been summoned by the music
and light. It was very eerie. As she walked down the aisle toward
the shrine, I circled around to the spot right at the back, which I
had previously determined was the best view for the ritual of light.
That may not be the case with Leslie's Witch, though – the tunnel
of light effect was just as magical, but it was much harder to see
what she was doing, because she's so small that she doesn't catch
nearly as many of the tiny light beams when she moves. It might have
been better to watch from closer up, off to the side. That's really
a matter of splitting hairs, though – it was still great from where
I was. Once everything died down, she retreated into the darkness
near the stairway to await Dwayne's return. I, of course, retreated
right alongside her.
Eventually he came and went, and as the crowd followed him, I stuck
with the Dust Witch, while she gathered up his clothes. We rejoined
Dwayne toward the end of his dance – this time, the Dust Witch
walked straight up to him instead of looping around the chapel, but I
looped anyway – unlike Dusty, I don't have license to push my way
through those crowds. Nor did I want to – especially as these were
the sort of crowds that might push back. I was, just as before,
well-positioned for the stairs, but because I waited to let the
characters pass me before I fell in line behind them, I wound up
jostled into a position several people back. It wasn't terrible –
I've definitely had worse crowds – but it wasn't good.
We headed down to the first floor, passing through the outer bits of
the studio (which still seems really, really weird - the Dust Witch
does not in any way belong there). Once we finally made it to the
downstairs chapel, she cleansed/baptized Dwayne in a manner that was
much more gentle than when I saw Laura Harding's Dust Witch do it.
The scene ended on a surprisingly touching note, as, post cleansing,
she revealed her face to him (but not to us), and whatever he saw
under there made him collapse into her lap, clutching her like a child.
We left him there and returned to the desert. The Dust Witch stood
near a pillar, awaiting Andy (James Finnemore)'s arrival. I nearly
said “hid behind a pillar,” but that's not strictly true. It
just wound up having the same effect. She watched silently as he
collapsed, as Miguel carried him away, and finally, as Mary (Laure
Bachelot) arrived, newly resurrected. Finally, the Dust Witch
emerged. It's funny how often she winds up present in a scene, but
in a way that you would never pick up on if you weren't actively
following her. If you look back to the last time I was at this
scene, I described how the Dust Witch “arrived.” But she didn't.
She was always there.
Once she had helped Mary recover and sent her on her way, the Dust
Witch took off along the wall for her 1:1 room. Just before we got
there, she casually flipped her hand right in front of my face,
positioned kind of like a waitress holding a tray. I took it, of
course, and she guided my hand to the door, where I in turn led her
to the lock (with a bit of prompting). Thus began the 1:1 which, for
my money, is still the scariest thing in the show. I'd been there
before, so I knew what was going to happen, but I was still all
manner of freaked out. It's a testament to how much it got to me
that I still, after going through it twice, can barely remember any of the words
that she said.
Part of me wanted to stick around and properly finish her loop after
that, but I knew there was really only one scene left, and she was
going to be waiting offstage for a while anyway, so I moved on to my
second loop: Stanford. Come hell or high water, this time I was
going to stick with him the whole way through. I headed back down to
the first floor and found him just finishing up with Faye's audition.
As soon as I got there, he headed off to the two-way mirror into the
Buchanan house for his phone call to Lila, which seemed much more
brusque than I remember. It's been a long time since I saw Sam Booth
do this scene, but I feel like there was more of a sense of beckoning
in his voice. But for Adam's Stanford, I'm not sure she even rates. We soon moved on to the cinema to watch
Wendy (Katherine Cowie)'s examination, which was every bit as sleazy
and uncomfortable as I remembered. At the end, Stanford sounded a little
bit pleased, and maybe even slightly surprised, when he declared
“she's the one.” There was one more stop before we returned to
the basement – the Seamstress (Annabeth Berkely), who I'm fairly
certain gave me a momentary “well well, look who's back” glance
just before acknowledging Stanford. He instructed her in how to deal
with Romola, and then it was off to the stairs – where he paused
for a moment before descending to mime a single tear falling from
his eye. It was, without a doubt, the fakiest, most insincere
gesture I have ever seen. If I hadn't suddenly felt kind of
protective about Romola, it would have been absolutely hilarious. To be honest, it still kind of was.
If I had to pick a single word for Adam's Stanford, I think that's
it: insincere. Sam Booth's charmingly odd Stanford and James
Traherne's imposingly powerful Stanford both seem to be, essentially,
who they are. There are layers, of course, but the core is what it
appears to be. Adam's Stanford is slick and so, so sleazy (a close
runner-up for the single-word). He's confident and in control of
everything, mannered to the point of appearing effete. But it feels
like a mask, and I have a hard time believing a word that he says.
And then there are the moments where the mask slips, and he descends
into brief episodes of bizarre, eye-rolling weirdness – or into his
unique, fun, but also head-scratchingly designed dances. He's an
entirely different sort of Stanford, and frankly, I don't like him at
all. But I'm fascinated by him, which is even better.
Once we got to the basement it was time to set up for the initiation,
followed by a little horsey dance, and then the 1:1, which went to
someone else – I actually couldn't even see who he picked, as he
essentially reached into a cluster of people and grabbed on to
whoever was hiding in the middle.
This is, of course, where I bailed out last time – but that wasn't
going to happen twice. I wandered into the Temple Anteroom and
rifled through the drawers of the rolling desk until I heard Frankie
(Anwar Russell) calling out. I returned to the main Temple room and
took up a spot near the orgy table – marking the first time I've
ever watched the initiation from this end. It wound up feeling
completely different – for the first time I wasn't viewing it from
Stanford's side of things, but from Frankie's – and that made it
much more intense and even a bit frightening. I still prefer my
usual spot, though.
After that came the Romola scene, which played out pretty much the
same as when I've seen other Stanford's do it, yet completely
differently at the same time. It's that whole sincerity thing –
with both Sam's and James' Stanfords, I felt like there was at least a
little bit of truth in what they said and how they treated her. This
scene, more than any other, was the chink in their armor. With
Adam's Stanford, I never got even a hint that he meant any of it –
this was pure, cold-hearted manipulation. Adam is easily the most
fully evil Stanford of the bunch.
Then came the rolling desk dance, and again, I took up my safe spot
between the pillars. Sadly, I think I can confirm that the magic
of this particular scene has worn off. It's just kind of "there" for me now. Fortunately, the
disappointment dispersed moments later when I saw Adam's extended,
massively more elaborate collapse/dance in the main temple room. He
was all over the place – up and down the room, back and forth. It
took me a moment to realize that trying to follow along with him was
the wrong play, and that this was a full-on scene, where you need to
just find a place to watch and stick to it. Quite a nice surprise,
at any rate.
Eventually he collapsed completely, and Alice and the PA (Stephanie
Nightingale) hoisted him into the electric wheelchair. Right around here was where I figured out
who he reminded me of at times. I mentioned before that sometimes
his cool, suave demeanor would slip and he'd turn into a weird,
eye-rolling creep for a minute. When that happens (and it happened a
bit in the wheelchair, as well as his dance just prior), I swear he
looks just like John Waters. Which. . . well, no wonder it's
unsettling. Fortunately, the other Stanford – the slick, handsome,
lying-through-his-teeth Stanford – was in control most of the time.
I followed him out of the orgy, hanging back by the corridor after he
jumped out at Wendy and Andrea (Fania Grigoriou). I was determined
that this time, just this once, I would successfully refuse to let
him make me follow Lila (Kath Duggan). He must have realized that's
what I was doing, because he didn't even really try that hard. Once
everyone else was gone, he rushed at me, grabbing the back of my
neck, and propelled me down the corridor, through a crowd of white
masks, and right up to the PA, who let a bit of a smirk cross her
face when she saw me. Yes, this is the third time I've been in this
corridor with you in three days. Why do you ask?
The scene in the corridor was not nearly as sexually charged as the
other two times had been – instead, all of that energy was
channeled into making things as bizarre as possible. They pulled me
and another white mask into a 4-man huddle for part of the scene.
They exchanged breath, without actually kissing. They kind of locked
their hips together and acted like they were riding a horse. Or
possibly she was the horse, and he was riding her. But not riding
her, I don't think. . . Oh, hell, I don't even know anymore.
You can always count on the frisky corridor to be the WTF highlight
of any trip to Temple Studios.
Once that was over with, Stanford made a beeline back down the
hallway to the reel-to-reel room. Fortunately, most of the people
there were sticking with the PA, so I was able to stick with him
without any real trouble, which surprised me. After the scene with
Lila, I moved to follow him out – but then he stopped. So I
stopped. Everyone else stopped. We all stood there for a moment,
waiting for the wheels to turn in my head to the point were I would realize
that he was waiting for me to go first. Finally, I did.
He followed me out, locked the door, then grabbed me by the neck
again and charged down the corridor at top speed. We crashed through
the two doors, and I barely managed to get my arms up in front of me
to avoid opening them with my face. Slight turn, through another
double door, and we were at the tree room. He unlocked the door,
gave me a quick look to make sure I was ready, and then kicked it in,
hard.
I think. . . I think I might be a little bit scared of Adam's
Stanford.
After the 1:1 we met up with the Doctor (Oliver Hornsby-Sayer) for
the inkblot exchange/reset. Oddly, it seems to have moved from the
Temple Anteroom to the main Temple, although the gist of the scene is
still the same. Then Stanford headed into the photo room to kick off
the loop. The scene in this room was, again, just a bit weirder than
I remember. Granted, the last time I saw it was many, many shows ago
(number 3, to be exact), but I seem to recall Sam Booth's Stanford
flipping through photos for a bit, slamming his head down on the
desk, and then lifting it almost immediately, with Wendy's photo
attached to his forehead. This time, Stanford collapsed on the desk right away, followed by a couple of minutes of strange hand
and finger movements – somewhere halfway between typing and
flipping through files – while the sound of a typewriter sprang
forth from beneath the desk. Eventually, the “typing” stopped and he
lifted his head to reveal the Wendy photo, which has it's eyes cut
out. It's far from the first photo with missing eyes I've seen in
the Studio, but this one was particularly unsettling for some reason.
After that we headed upstairs for Faye's audition, and the end of my
Stanford loop. I took up a position off to the side, planning to
follow her out afterward. Codfish Ball was delightful as always, and
I was particularly pleased to see that Ira (who I don't believe I've
seen do this scene before) has restored something approximating the
classic David Essing clap.
I followed Faye out of the room, knowing that her next stop was also
my next stop – we met up with Harry in the street outside the
motel, and I switched over to him. The first thing he did was head
inside the motel to prep his flyers for the phone booths and attempt
a phone call on a phone that's out of service. As soon as I saw that
happen, I knew I was in for a much different loop than I was
originally expecting. The little bits of James Traherne's Harry that
I had seen the last time I was out gave me the impression that his
Harry was much more of a clown than the others, playing it a bit
broader, a bit goofier, and made me assume the rest of his loop would
lean that way – lighter and goofier. But then the phone didn't
work and he attacked the dresser, suddenly and aggressively enough to
make me jump a little. All of that stuff I saw last time? That's
the performance. Not James' performance. Harry's. Bubbling just
underneath that is a tremendous rage that I didn't even suspect until
this moment. James isn't the goofy Harry. He's the scary Harry.
Of course, after that brief display he was able to bury those
feelings back down again, and he was lighter, goofier Harry as he
finished preparing the flyers. But now that I knew what was really
going on there, I could see the little bits of it creeping around the
edges of his performance.
Over at the Drugstore, we got another taste of “Dark Harry”
immediately after the phone call, but once again, he was able to
choke it down in time for a nice, sweet scene with Drugstore Girl
(Lucia Chocarro), which is always a favorite. Incidentally, I'm
fairly certain this is the first time I've ever seen Lucia smile (in
either of her roles), and it was kind of nice (logically, I do have
to assume she smiled during Bulldog, but I have no recollection of
that. Probably busy watching Faye).
Next we headed to the bar, where it was actually kind of amusing
watching the world's tiniest Barman (Daniel Whiley) trying to corral
a gigantic, towering Harry. This scene is always just awful –
horrible to watch (and I mean that in a good way). It's like the
mirror of the Drugstore Girl scene. But wasn't as shocking as it has
been with other Harrys, because James' version let us see beforehand
that he has it in him to act like this, whereas when the others'
vaudeville persona slips, what rises to the surface is despair and
desperation – not aggression.
But then, in an interesting twist, the pendulum swung back the other
way and Harry spent much of the first half of his drunken journey
through town apologizing to the Barman. I've never seen that happen
before – hell, I never even knew that the Barman came out to the
saddlery to watch him. It's nice to have that extra bit of
self-awareness, which makes him much more sympathetic. Speaking of
self-awareness: I also love that Harry was completely aware that
“Frankly my dear, I don't give a fuck” is a mediocre joke at
best, and got defensive about it. Once he moved into the
philosophical phase of his breakdown, it was also the most despairing
version yet. We're all just sand and meat, and none of it means
anything.
Eventually he collapsed outside the motel. This is a moment that is
typically up for interpretation: Does Harry pass out here, only to be
awakened by the Gatekeeper? Or does he die, only to be resurrected
by the Gatekeeper (or is the rest a dream, or an afterlife, or some
variant thereof)? I typically lean toward death/resurrection, but
James bypassed that completely by never actually losing
consciousness. He just fell to the ground, staring around with those
terrified, empty eyes until the Gatekeeper picked him up.
Once he was back on his feet, we headed down to a shockingly deserted
Studio 3. There were maybe 8 people in there when we walked in.
Very bizarre, considering how crowded the show was in general. It was weird enough that Harry
felt the need to comment on it. But no matter – I'm not one to
complain about the lack of a crowd. Harry hopped up on stage and
launched into a rousing rendition of “Sweet Sue, Just You,” after
which he and Lexie (Jo Bowis) convened in the fortune telling room
for a scene I've never encountered before, where they discussed
contracts and, more pointedly, Harry's history of drinking. The most
notable moment was when Lexie mentioned Faye, in relation to the
drinking. He'd deferred to her throughout the whole conversation –
after all, she held all the power – but he couldn't abide her even
saying Faye's name. The Harry rage showed up for just a second, just
flashing behind his eyes, and it was enough to make even Lexie back
down. I wonder if that reaction was fueled by fear - if deep down,
he knows just what sort of horrors might await Faye if/when the
studio gets its claws into her.
We left Studio 3 and headed back up to the first floor to catch Faye
singing “Walking in the Sand.” This was, admittedly, the reason
I decided to wait for loop 3 for Harry – because I knew that this is where
he would ultimately take me. I got a pleasant surprise when we
arrived, too – instead of getting there halfway through, we made it
in time for the entire song. Here's where I made a bit of an oops –
I kind of abandoned my character when we got into the bar. Faye
started singing and I just moved in her direction, entranced. What
can I say? This scene, and in particular, this scene when performed
by Katie Lusby, has on multiple occasions provided some of the most
intense emotional experiences I've had at the show. I am literally
powerless before it. It took until halfway through the song for me
to remember that I was supposed to be there with Harry, and I looked
back at him – he was standing with his hands to his face, looking
so much more upset by what he was seeing than I expected. Heartbreak
on two fronts.
Once the song was done, Harry grabbed hold of Faye and ushered her
out of the bar. They rushed downstairs for the wrap party, stopping
off in Studio 4 to clown about for a bit, focusing more on playing
with the clapboard and less on “ooh, look at the diva's bedroom”
relative the the last few times I've seen them in there. This feels
better to me – Faye doesn't just want the perks of being a star,
she wants to actually be one. She wants to be in pictures.
Then we made it to Studio 2. I hung back slightly, expecting to see
Faye grab a white mask and Harry. . . well, I don't know what I
expected. He always seemed to just wander off somewhere. But by
hanging back and keeping an eye on him, I could find out. To my
surprise, neither of the above actions took place. Instead, Harry
and Faye stood together, father and daughter, watching the murder.
He was her walkdown. During the murder they whispered excitedly to
each other, and at the end, as “We Are Enough” started to play,
she turned to him and squealed, “was that Wendy Jordan?” It was
so lovely to see them together – Faye's oh-so-important catharsis
was infused with a warmth that had never been a part of it before.
Such a nice surprise, and a wonderful way to end the show.
Next time: The final countdown begins. . . . . . . . . .
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