My Time at Temple Studios, Part 18

Show #18

Saturday, March 8: 9 pm

After a quick burrito stop with Ben, Kate, and Hannah following the early show, it was back to the queue for the late. Actually, that's not entirely true. In point of fact, we instead headed for the essentially queue-less Studio entrance, because this time, we were going in with Studio Exec tickets.

Here's where I run into a bit of a snag: Studio Exec tickets, are, for all intents and purposes, the same as the now unavailable premium tickets (from October-end of February, anyway). I bought a premium ticket for one of my previous shows (#9), and in the write-up, I decided to treat the premium content like a 1:1, and skip over it so as not to spoil anything. This time, however, there are a couple of extenuating circumstances. First, Studio Exec tickets are available to, essentially, any returning visitor – so not quite as exclusive or secretive. Secondly, unlike last time, the premium content formed an integral part of my night, to the point I don't think I can really explain my experience without it. So – I'm going to remain vague on a few scripted things (you won't find many details of the prologue scene here), but I'm going to be very open about my interactions with the mysterious and wonderful Phoebe (Zoe Mills). To those who care: consider this the super spoiler warning. If at any point I say I went to the drafting room, it's time to skip ahead.

For now, though, let's start with precisely the thing I said I wouldn't describe: the prologue. It was, of course, the point at which I first met this version of Phoebe, who, as much as I hate to use the phrase, essentially had me at “hello.” In Zoe Mills' hands, Phoebe is nervous, a little twitchy, and very sweet. She's incredibly endearing, and within just a few words, I just wanted to give her a big hug. Beyond her performance, the intro also benefited from the fact that you're generally only going to see returning visitors in there – instead of sitting there anxiously while Phoebe went on and on about Punchdrunk and influences and how to watch a show like this, all the while just knowing that the first lift full of people were ALREADY INSIDE, we chatted with Phoebe about our previous experiences, what we liked/didn't like, favorite characters, all of that. It still took just as long, but felt more relevant, and Zoe's performance made her quizzing and her spiel surprisingly compelling.  I was completely happy just sitting in there listening to her.

Skip to the end of the prologue (told you), and we're all in the queue, getting ready to head inside on the third or fourth lift. To this point, I hadn't come up with a pick for my first loop, and the lack of a cast board at the Studio entrance didn't help matters. My choices were to either pick someone from the photos in the lift, or go in blind and see who I could find, completely unaware of the casting. I was not fond of the latter idea, so I tentatively settled on starting with a William loop, assuming that I saw Paul Zivkovich's face on the wall when the lift doors opened.  This despite certain reservations that I had. One thing I wanted to make sure to do during my six-show stint was catch Paul for a loop, as he is awesome and his departure from the show loomed ominously in the near future. I had followed his Fool back in September, but never his William, for reasons unrelated to him specifically. Here's where the reservations come into play: you see, the various performers who play each role don't generally mix and match willy-nilly; there's a pattern. The relevant aspect of that is that Paul's William is paired with Kate Jackson's Mary, and Omar Gordon's is paired with Laure Bachelot. As much as I wanted to follow Paul as William, I had, to this point, always been reluctant to do a William loop in which Mary was played by anyone but Laure. This is not in any way a reflection on Kate's performance – I've seen parts of her loop and she's quite good, particularly from the hoedown to the end. But I had such a tremendous loop with Laure a few months earlier that I wind up feeling weird about it every time I see another Mary. I know it doesn't make sense; it's one of those inexplicable emotional things that I'm incapable of sorting out. But there it is.

So I was rather pleasantly surprised to step onto the lift and see Paul and Laure's faces looking out at me from the wall. I don't know if this is the first time they ever performed together (surely not), but I'd never heard of it happening before, and it was certainly a very rare occurrence. Lucky break for Brian.

Immediately out of the lift, I found the hoedown just getting started, and confirmed that it wasn't just a cruel joke, Paul and Laure were indeed out on the dance floor. Another surprise: Miranda Mac Letten as Drugstore Girl. Not quite as rare an occurrence – after all, that was the role in which I had first encountered her, but not one she plays very often any more. I was briefly tempted to switch over to her before I had even started with William, but I couldn't pass up my crazy golden opportunity. Also, there was no Badlands Jack. Again.

I followed William and Andy (Nicola Migliorati) out into town and watched their fountain scene, which is very nice but didn't hit me quite the way I would have liked for two reasons -  a) I came in too late to really bond with William. This is a problem with the studio exec/premium ticket. Probably less of an issue for other characters, but when you hit the ground running with high tragedy, it's difficult to get into the swing of things. It's also probably my own fault for choosing to first-loop Mary and William, respectively, at my two premium shows. I may do a lot of planning, but I don't do it well. Anyway, there was also the matter of b) I had just watched this very scene about two hours earlier (same William, different Andy). Perils of the double.

Fortunately, once William reunited with Mary, things started to go more smoothly. Part of it was having more time to adjust, part of it was the sheer force of Paul's intense, end-of-the-rope performance, and part of it was my residual emotional attachment to Mary, which helped paper over some of the rough spots. By the time they were dancing to “Walking in the Sand,” I was fully on board. I was also very excited to see that, when mixing and matching W's and M's, the choreography travels with William. I vastly prefer Paul and Kate's tender, remorseful last dance and murder to Omar and Laure's more brutal and frightening version. Once again, the best of all worlds came together for me.

Once the murder was done, William ran off into the desert, shouting Mary's name with a voice so ragged it must have been agonizing. When he made his way to the studio gates, I was briefly transported back to Sleep No More, as he briefly faced off with a fellow veteran of the Macbeth clan, Leslie Ann Kraus. Then we moved indoors and things slowly reset to a more normal state.

At this point, the mood wasn't as beholden to the ongoing thrust of the story, so I was able to sit back a bit and just enjoy the scenes laid out for me as individual performances. William and Andy's desk dance and later tree dance, William and Mary's car dance – these are all tremendous displays of physical prowess and athleticism. I do tend to prefer diving deeply into the story, ignoring all real-world concerns as much as possible, but there is something to be said for occasionally stepping back and thinking, “Wow. Just look at what I'm watching.”

Then, of course, there were the bits that were less setpiece-y, but served to draw the storm clouds in around William, such as Conrad's (Ben Whybrow) cabaret, which is one of the scenes that really helps to humanize William, particularly in the case of Paul's version. Comparing it to to Rob McNeil's incarnation, which I saw during my Conrad loop at show 14, I was struck by how much nicer Paul's William was about things. Rob's response to Conrad's attention was near-horror – he wanted it to go away as quickly as possible, and was very clear on that point. Paul's William, however, while clearly equally uncomfortable with things, seemed to be trying as hard as he could to be nice about it, to not make trouble. That's really a microcosm of his life, and probably the source of his madness.

Earlier I gave one reason for not doing a William loop in the past, but there is actually another one as well – After all of the other loops I've done with other characters, I was pretty sure that I had effectively seen everything there was to see in the loop, just in fragments. This turned out to essentially be the case – the one drawback to an otherwise very enjoyable loop was that it was all a repeat, down to the fact that most of those scenes I had not only seen, but had seen with Paul's William specifically.

As it turned out, however, there was one new bit. A single scene which happened to fall right at the end of my loop, allowing me to wrap up my time with William on a high note. After his session with the Doctor (Anwar Russell, who I resolved to return to at some point during the show), William retreated to the deserted arcade and washed off the freshly drawn drowned lung from his chest. It's a small scene, almost insignificant in some ways, but I actually quite liked it. Once the story gets moving (in other words, outside of the reset), it's really the only time that William is actually by himself, not getting pulled one way or another by other people. It's a moment of quiet, the pause at the top of the roller-coaster before his descent begins in earnest. I really enjoyed being able to share that moment before departing. But soon the moment passed, and he was off to the hoedown and I was off to see Phoebe.

Or so I thought. I hadn't taken even two steps before I saw something odd – Tuttle (Matthew Blake), in his shop, alone. I certainly wasn't going to allow this sad state of affairs to stand, especially not with a Tuttle I hadn't yet seen. Besides, the drafting room probably wasn't open quite yet. So I trotted into the toyshop just in time for him to grab a paint can and leave. Back out again.

I've been told that Homer Simpson (no, not that one) served as the inspiration for Tuttle, and of all the Tuttles I've seen, Matthew Blake's feels the closest to it. He moves oddly, with a tight, closed off posture that seems designed to compress his fairly imposing size. He doesn't talk much, and when he does, he doesn't seem entirely accustomed to it. When the time came, shortly thereafter, for his 1:1, he didn't reach out to me, didn't say anything – he just walked past me, locked me into the shop with him, and crouched down behind the counter. It's an interesting performance, and one I'd like to see more of – but it was not to be. I was only doing Studio Exec one time, and I intended to take the opportunity to see as much of Phoebe as possible. Thus, when he kicked me out of the 1:1 room, my hand and mask covered with blood, I didn't return to the toy shop. I made my way down to the basement.

When I got to the drafting room, I found things already in full swing, with a half-dozen white masks already in there. Phoebe was deep into some sort of interaction with one of them, so I quickly knocked out a bit of research I had been planning to do, reading through Miguel's and Badlands Jack's dossiers. By the time I finished, the reset music was playing and she rushed to the typewriter, typing out “It is starting over again.” She then began moving tiny character figurines around a map, mirroring the events outside, all the while mumbling frantically to herself. When she's at work, Phoebe is constantly just this side of sheer panic, holding things together by the skin of her teeth. She's just so instantly sympathetic, I wanted, yet again, to give her a hug and tell her everything would be okay.

While she worked, I noticed a stack of headshots on the desk. I've been mildly fascinated by these ever since I noticed that the National Theatre website and the Temple Studios website use different photos from the same shoot for some of the performers. I was curious which set were in use, so I started flipping through them, only to see that this stack included, in some cases, yet a third variant. I'm sure this is a riveting development for many of you - evidently I'm easily amused. Anyway, I eventually noticed that Phoebe was standing beside me, entranced by the photos. I stepped aside and she grabbed the stack, flipping through it until she found Dolores and Marshall. She grabbed the pair of photos and rushed to the desert model in the back of the drafting room. There, she poured handfuls of sand into a small bible, which she used in turn to pour the sand on to the photos, covering all but their eyes. A tiny piece of paper fell out with the sand, and she unfolded it to reveal. . . er, some sort of brief, ominous poem that I can't remember. By this time several white masks had gathered around her. She began, in her nervous, halting way, to narrate Marshall's initial meeting with Dolores, but stopped after a couple of sentences. She stared down at the photos and told us it was happening right now, outside the trailers in Studio 2.

No one moved. I don't know what everyone else was thinking, but I really wasn't sure who she was talking too. Plus, I didn't really want to go. I wanted to watch her some more. But then she turned directly to me, said, “It may already be too late,” and led me to the door. Guess I win. Or lose. Or both.

END OF DRAFTING ROOM INTERLUDE

Well, I had no intention of following her instructions. I had things to do. If I wasn't going to be watching Phoebe, I'd go back to checking off my list. Next up: the new Doctor. I found him on his way back up to his office from Dancing in the Dark. There, he puttered around for a few minutes, rearranging chairs, before heading right back downstairs to Studio 2. Amusingly, by going my own way, I wound up right where Phoebe was sending me. As we walked into Studio 2, I saw that Andrea (Fania Grigoriou) was on top of the caravans. This was exciting news – I love Andrea's caravan dance, and I had not yet seen Fania do it. Sadly, I have still never seen her do it, because almost as soon as we arrived, she hopped down and headed for her audition. So instead, I watched the Doctor watch the end of the birthday party. It's kind of hard to get a read on Anwar's Doctor. The best description I can come up with is that he feels like a Doctor. That probably sounds facetious, but actually, it stands in sharp contrast to many of the others, who tend to emphasize the weird, or creepy aspects of the characters. I would not trust any of the doctors I've seen in that building – except for Anwar's (though I'm sure I would live to regret it if I did so).  After the party, he brought Wendy back up to his office for her examination. I was struck by how much more imposing Stanford (Sam Booth) was than usual, owing to Leslie's diminutive stature. I can only imagine the contrast if she were ever paired up with James Traherne's Stanford.

Soon Wendy was gone, Alice (Emily Mytton) came and went, and all of the other white masks went with them, leaving me alone with the Doctor. He shuffled some more chairs around and went into his office, where he started examining some inkblots, eventually selecting one and slipping it into an envelope. Meanwhile, off in the distance, I could hear. . . is that. . . could it be. . . yep. Bulldog. It called to me, demanding my presence, but I couldn't just walk out on the Doctor when I was the only one there! I gritted my teeth until the urge passed, and soon I was rewarded. The doctor stepped forward and looked at my mask, concern etched across his face. He took my hand and examined it, then finally said, “I'm going to need you to come with me for some tests. You appear to be covered in blood.”

After a somewhat embarrassing stab at a talky 1:1, I found myself ejected back into the corridor, alone. Seemed like the perfect time to return to Phoebe, so off I went back to the drafting room. Inside, I found Hannah standing right by the door, reading a character dossier. I took a moment to point out Romola's dossier, because it is in many ways the most interesting of them. She, in turn, pointed at the dossier in her hand.  I pointed again, emphatically, and she, just as emphatically, pointed at hers.  I give up.  Turns out, she'd already read the Romola dossier anyway. Of course.  I should never have attempted to out-maneuver Spoiler Mum.

Turning my attention back to the room, I found Phoebe moving the Dwayne, Faye, and Miguel figurines around. When she saw me, she quickly motioned me over, slipped Miguel and Dwayne into my hands, and led me to the desert model. There, she took the figures from me and set them down, along with Faye. She told me to wait one moment, rushed off, and returned with a bottle of water (at least, I hope it was water. Clearly meant to represent some form of liquor, but the way she was throwing it back – yeah, it better have been water).

She then proceeded to take my hand and narrate the story of the desert dance, all the while drinking haphazardly and half-dancing with herself in tiny little circles. She explained what was happening, why it was happening, what everyone was thinking, and let me tell you: it was phenomenal. I got to see a very different side of Phoebe – sure, she's nervous, overwhelmed, and barely able to keep it together. But when you get down to it, her job is to tell stories. And she's clearly a born story-teller - because she LOVES doing it. And I love her for loving it. Her mounting enthusiasm was infectious. It might actually have been more compelling than the scene itself, and I don't say that lightly. Three minutes of pure magic.

But then it was over, and she sent me away to see the real thing. After her usual spiel at the door (“stairs are to the right, up to the top floor, etc”), she added a little extra bit, however, asking me (with pleading eyes) if I was going to come back and see her again afterward. Once again, I had to suppress the hug reflex. Instead, I nodded, trying my hardest to smile with my eyes. Poor Phoebe, all alone in the basement. Thinking back on my first time, with Sarah Sweeney's Phoebe, I got essentially the same feeling from her – a yearning loneliness. In that case, though, I kind of had to tease it out of what I saw, whereas here Phoebe was pouring her whole heart out all over me. I can almost see Zoe's Phoebe as a progression of that character rather than an alternate interpretation of her, where the additional months of isolation have driven her nearly to the breaking point.

END OF DRAFTING ROOM INTERLUDE

Well, once again, I didn't really want to go see the scene she was sending me to. The night was drawing frighteningly close to its end, and I still had one other thing I really wanted to do – so I rushed up to the town for some Drugstore Girl time.

I found her in the arcade, dancing in roller skates with the Barman (Jude Monk McGowan). I also, unsurprisingly, found Ben in the arcade, watching her dance in roller skates with the Barman. The timing didn't wind up really working in my favor, though, as I only managed to catch the back half of that single scene before she joined everyone else for the hoedown, which I had already seen earlier in the show. On the other hand, well, it is the hoedown after all, so I stuck around to watch. In the absence of Badlands Jack, the Barman remained behind the bar again, but apparently couldn't help letting loose with a bottle of champagne. I'm not really sure what that was all about.

Then it was back down to the drafting room to fulfill my promise to Phoebe. I found her alone, with no other white masks. When I entered the room, she immediately rushed to my side and took my arm. I don't mind saying I felt just a touch heroic. But then I saw the look on her face. Some thing was different. She had spent the whole show just on the safe side of panic, but something had pushed her across the line. “You can't stay here,” she said.

W-H-A-T?!

I stood, rooted on the spot. What did she mean? The only thing in the world I wanted at that moment was to stay there and keep her company. Especially with the state she was in. If only I could talk, and ask her why. She clearly picked up on my consternation. “I wish you could stay,” she said, slipping her hand into mine and giving it a squeeze. But there was nothing to be done. If I had to leave, I had to leave. I slowly turned toward the exit, but then she pulled me back.

“Listen,” she said. “Go to the party.” Ah, an instruction. Go to the – wait, what is she talking about? My mind raced through parties in the show. “Walking in the Sand” was playing in the drafting room, did she mean that? Not much of a party. The hoedown is a party, but that just ended. The birthday party? That's just ridiculous. I thought for a moment that maybe she was somehow confused. I'm sure anyone reading this who's been to the show knows exactly what she meant, but I was slightly emotionally overwhelmed and even a little bit panicked at that moment, so I came up blank. I realized I was going to have to do something stupid.

“Which party?” I asked.

“Mr. Stanford is having a private executive party,” she said.

Facepalm.

I nodded. She led me to the door, and again stopped me as I started to leave. “Go to the party. When Wendy leaves. . . .come back to me.”

A-ha. Buoyed by the knowledge that Phoebe and I weren't through with each other yet, I strolled down to the orgy. I have to admit, I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to it, I was just marking time until Wendy's exit. Frankly, it seemed to take FOREVER. But eventually she left, and so did I.

I ran back to the drafting room, shoved my keycard in the lock, and rushed in. I do have to wonder what the black mask guarding the door was thinking at that moment. Inside, I found Phoebe, now much calmer, standing in the middle of the room in a sparkly evening dress. She was holding a polished wooden box in her hands. Upon seeing me, she smiled, thanked me for coming back, and latched the door. No interruptions.

She brought me back to the desert model again and opened the box, removing a pair of scissors and two paper dolls. One had a red line across its neck, the other had a red smear on the abdomen. Mary and Marshall. She picked up Paper Mary, pressing the blades of the scissors to its neck, but not cutting. She wrapped my hands around hers – if there was to be any cutting, we would do it together. All the while, she described the scene, explaining what William was thinking, and then – she stopped. She stared sadly at the paper doll, unmoving. After a long pause, she took a deep breath, as if to steel herself, then said it. The words that had meant so much to me last time, now given a new and much more horrifying context.

“If I do nothing, nothing will ever happen.”

Back in December, it was a philosophy.  A statement about life, reminding me to go experience things rather than hide away in the basement looking at models of them.  But I must have gotten it wrong.  It wasn't actually about that at all.  It was Phoebe's sad resignation of the power she wields over the show, and the responsibility that comes with it.  Something deep inside of me died a little bit.  How could I respond to that?  Was it an instruction? Was she asking me to make her do it? I tentatively applied some pressure to the scissors, but her hand held firm. Then she looked me in the eye, with just the hint of a sad smile, and in one quick motion, without even looking at it, we cut the doll's head from its body.

The second one went much faster, but felt just as difficult. Then, she shut down the drafting room and we left (through the front door!  Crazy!). Instead of heading straight up the stairs, she led me down the long corridor that went past Stanford's room. As we passed the reel-to-reel room, Stanford's pre-recorded voice echoed faintly around us. Phoebe stopped to listen to it, overwhelmed with shock and perhaps a touch of horror. After a moment she shook off the effects, told me “we have to go,” and led me up to Studio 2 for the murder. We made it there before most of the crowd and got a prime spot right at the base of the mound. Then: the murder. Unlike pretty much every character I've ever watched the murder with, Phoebe wasn't really getting into it at all. In fact, it was clearly freaking her right out. When Stanford's voice called cut, the room erupted into cheering all around us, but Phoebe didn't join in. “We are Enough” began to play, and everyone headed over to the stage. But not Phoebe. She just stood there, staring at the mound. I can't even begin to describe the look on her face – shock? Horror? Confusion? Sadness? All of the above and then some, plus a definite hint of denial. It wasn't long before we were the only two people at the murder mound, standing alone in the dark. Still she stared. Finally, in a daze, she took my hand and led me to the stage, dropping me at the front with instructions to wait for her. She stumbled up into the action, agog at all of the people around her, until finally she came across Tuttle. They spoke, briefly – near as I could tell, he was introducing himself, but who knows for sure? They shook hands. . . and it was like switch flipped. Dull shock gave way to rapturous joy. Phoebe ran around the stage like a lunatic, “meeting” as many characters as she could before the dance began. It was quite cathartic after all the time I'd spent worrying about her and wishing I could somehow ease her pain.

After the finale, she came back for me and led me into the opium den. She reached for my mask and then stopped, asking, “May I?” No one else has ever asked. When the mask came off, she smiled (such a warm smile, so unlike her) and said, “There, that's better.” She took me by the hand again and led me out the other end of the opium den. Along the way, she asked me how it was. All I could say was “Wonderful.”

We paused at the threshold, and she thought for a moment. “Yeah, it was,” she said. “I can't tell you how much it meant to me.” Then, with a kiss on the cheek, she was gone - and my penultimate show drew to a close.

My Time at Temple Studios, Part 17

Show 17
Saturday, March 8: 5 pm

This was always going to be a troublesome show. I normally like to go in knowing who I'm going to hit right out of the lift, then let the mood strike me after that. But this time, due to the quirks of the scheduling, there were two performer/character combos I wanted very much to follow that would only happen at this show. I was, essentially, booked. One of them was Mateo Oxley's Tuttle, as this would be my last chance to see him, and the other was Fania Grigoriou's PA, who I had not followed since way, way back at my very first show. Tuttle doesn't even exist until partway into the second loop, and some pre-show lunch discussion (Hi, Ben!) convinced me that the third loop would be the best time to catch the Fania's PA, so I was in the odd position of having no idea what I would do to start the show, and an exact, carefully scheduled back half (and then some).

After hemming and hawing over the cast board for a bit, I decided on Miranda Mac Letten's Andrea for my first loop. She had caught my eye the night before during Bulldog, and I knew that she had some Fool interaction right near the top of the show that I was curious to see. For this night. . . there was no Fool. At least we finally had a Badlands Jack again. I was looking forward to seeing what she would do in his absence. I zipped out of the lift in the basement and rushed upstairs to the dressing room, but she wasn't there. I knew she would be soon, though, so I took a moment to hang around and enjoy the weird gargoyles and pillars that are stashed around that room. Eventually I decided to get proactive and follow the path I knew she must be taking, in reverse – surely we'd meet somewhere in the middle. In fact, I wound up making it almost all the way up to Studio 5 before our paths crossed, as she was just starting out toward the dressing room. Amusing side note: they were not at all ready for me to be up there so early. Romola's picture wasn't even hung at the shrine yet.

Sadly, my plans came to a premature end when we reached the ground floor and she kindly (yet firmly) directed me back out toward Studio 2 and disappeared into Studio 3. So that was how they would deal with the lack of a fool. There just wouldn't be a scene at all. Hrm.

I knew Andrea would be making her way back to the dressing room eventually, though, and that Wendy would be there when she did. So I headed into Studio 2 to watch Wendy's tree dance and follow her until I could meet back up with Andrea. That was when I hit snag number 2: Studio 2 was completely empty. I didn't even see a black mask there, although I have to assume there was one. This was very confusing – Grenouille's Childhood was pouring from the speakers, so we must have been mid-tree dance. And at previous shows, I'd been in this same spot a full scene earlier, with action already underway. Unable to believe the room was really deserted, I moved toward the trees, thinking Wendy must be in there somewhere, and that I was just failing this practical test of observational skills. But nope. Nothing. Suddenly I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Wendy (Sara Black) rushing up to me from out of who-knows-where. She ran up the woodchip pile just in time to slide back down, concluding the number. I guess that's timing.

We immediately moved up on to the stage for the retrieval of the scissors, and the whole thing just felt so desolate. Usually, even if I'm the only white mask, the Fool is there watching with me. Such a strange way for the night to begin. Back in the dressing room, Wendy stashed the scissors and then the PA arrived to summon her to the bedroom. I had a brief moment of indecision – the PA was all alone – maybe I should scratch my plans and start following her? But I decided to stay the course. It was a tough call, and I'm not entirely sure it was the right one. Who can really say, though?

In the bedroom, Wendy got into her fight/dance with Marshall (Fionn Cox-Davies, who had cut off all of his hair since last I saw him!). Again, I was all alone with them and a single black mask, and the whole thing reminded me of my experience with Dolores and Marshall's dance at almost the exact same time the night before. I love when the crowds are sparse, but it crosses a line into truly unsettling when you spend that long without coming across a single soul.

Finally, we returned to the dressing room and I was reunited with Andrea. She and Wendy changed costumes and headed to Studio 5 for the Infidelity Ballet. There we found the Seamstress (Laure Bachelot) and Frankie (Conor Doyle) with their audience of zero white masks. It wasn't until the Infidelity Ballet was well underway that others began to trickle in. But boy, once they got started, the deluge was unleashed and it wasn't long before the room was packed. I have no idea what was going on during that first half-hour, but from that point forward, it was like a whole different show.

I also attempted again to try to hear what the Seamstress said to Andrea during filming, but no dice.

This scene is probably the best point to delve into the way that Miranda's Andrea differs from the others, as the clearest example occurred during the pre-filming chatter. Essentially, she's the one who goes all in on the movie star life. Both Fania and Kirsty Arnold's Andreas have varying degrees of insecurity and a stronger sense of genuine decency underneath all of the movie star trappings. Fania's incarnation in particular found Frankie's attention in this scene to be outright unpleasant and embarassing. Miranda's Andrea, on the other hand, revels in it. She luxuriates in the attention – when Frankie went on and on about how hot she is, she looked for all the world like she was physically basking in it. Miranda even sticks with a British accent for the role (a non-uncommon affectation for movie stars), even though she puts on an American one as other characters. All in all, it makes her much less sympathetic and likeable – but at the same time, she's easily the most magnetic of the three. She simply oozes heat. Is it a worthwhile trade-off? Depends on what you're looking for, but if nothing else it highlights again how nice it is to have the option of so many disparate takes on the characters in this show.

Over the course of the next few scenes, I started to get a feel for the crowd around me. They were fairly aggressive, with some substantial crowding in around scenes – but apparently, not all that interested, because very few people actually seemed to follow anyone from scene to scene, as far as I could tell. Coming out of the orgy we did pick up another dedicated follower, a tall, gangly guy who insisted on being right up next to everything. It always kind of amazes me when I see this sort of thing. Don't get me wrong, I'm a close follower. I'm usually kind of skirting the edge of what I feel is a reasonable distance, and there are probably those out there who would say I cross that line a lot. I'd be the first to admit that it happens sometimes. But that's kind of my point – if that's the perspective I'm coming from, how ridiculous would someone have to be for me to notice? During Andrea's breakdown in the snow room, there was a semi-circle of people watching from about 6-8 feet back. . . and this guy, standing right at the foot of the snow. Fortunately, he had apparently had enough of Andrea by the reset and took off.

Moving on to the start of the story, post-reset.  Every time I've seen Andrea and Wendy's first scene, on the ice mound, I've always managed to get stuck behind the pillar. I have no idea how this happens – I just try to get into position, they move, and suddenly there I am. Repeatedly. It seems that I have some sort of spatial memory disorder in the presence of Andrea (see also: the cupboard, in previous write-ups). This time I made a point to break the cycle, though, and stood near the boat, which is actually a really nice vantage point, and usually unoccupied or sparsely occupied because it's on the other side of a performance space. As an additional bonus, while I was watching the scene, the Seamstress (Laure Bachelot) snuck up behind me and pressed a little talisman into my hand, whispering “only fools believe what they see” into my ear. A nice little moment, but it kind of made me sad more than anything else. Whenever I have a moment with a character like that, it makes me want to follow them. And the Seamstress doesn't tend to get followed a lot. And I liked Laure so much when she was Mary.

But I was booked. It was three scenes until time to catch Tuttle, and those three scenes are the best part of Andrea's loop (other than the magic trick), and three scenes isn't enough time to properly follow someone anyway, and. . . Ugh. I felt bad, here she'd given me this charm, and I just turned my back on her.

Buuuuuut. . . as a reward for my callousness, I got to watch Andrea's cigarette dance on the caravans just a few short minutes later, so I guess I did the right thing. The funny thing about this scene is that no one ever seems to watch it. There's a massive crush of people trying to get into the tent to watch the birthday party, and half of them probably can't see anything at all. And yet none of them seem to realize there's a really beautiful dance happening right behind them. I sympathize, because for my first seven shows, that was me. But it also makes me chuckle inside. If they only realized.

After that came Andrea's creepy audition with Claude (Fred Gehrig) and William (Paul Zivkovich), which is always fun. I mean, always creepy. Followed, of course, by Bulldog – about which there is nothing new I could possibly say, other than that it is another prime example of the distinctiveness of Miranda's Andrea. It's a playful song, a little naughty, but mostly just playful, and that's how Fania and Kirsty do it – but in Miranda's hands, it's Dirty with a capital D. Dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, smoldering, dirty.

With the conclusion of Bulldog, I had cycled all the way back around to the point in the loop where I had first emerged from the lift, which meant it was time to find Tuttle for a truncated second loop. When I arrived, however, I found the toyshop empty. Was I too early? Was he late? Unsure of what else to do, I headed over to the Horse and Stars to kill a few minutes. There I found the Barman (Luke Murphy) straightening and bundling the day's proceeds. I watched him for a minute, and then he motioned me over. He leaned in close and told me how he distasteful he found his business, but then turned philosophical. What work would there be for a tailor if there was no such thing as shame? What job would there be for a soldier if we didn't feel the need to kill ourselves? Then he poured me a shot. Not a happy barman, but he seems to get by.

I returned to Tuttle's shop and found him inside, alone, playing with his Mary doll. That probably sounds worse than it really is. I stepped up to the counter to watch him, and soon sensed the arrival of a handful of additional white masks. I had met up with some friends prior to the show, and we joked about all arriving in the shop at the same time for a Tuttle convention. At least, I thought it was a joke, but since I was going to be there anyway, it didn't matter what I thought. Apparently, though, we were not all on the same page because when I took advantage of a lull in the action to take in my surroundings, I found Ben standing right behind me and Hannah lounging in the window seat. The fourth member of the convention, Kate, was conspicuously absent but swung by later.

I also noticed that I was standing up front with a ring of people behind me, not entirely unlike (but definitely somewhat unlike) the gangly guy at Andrea's ice dance, and stepped back sheepishly. Embarrassed in front of my friends. . .

Sadly, I don't have a lot to say about the Tuttle loop. Last time I caught it, it was an amazing experience, and I was riveted by the character. This time, it felt like there was just less going on. Admittedly, I arrived a bit later than I had previously, but only by a single scene, at most. It seemed like only a few moments passed before suddenly he had disappeared into the back room with another white mask. Where before I had followed him in and out of the shop several times, and saw multiple interactions between him and other characters, here it seemed to happen only once or twice. Perhaps most significantly, I saw only the faintest glimmer of his mooning over Faye, which had been my way into his mindset last time (I feel your pain, buddy. . .).

This is not to say it was bad – he still performed some cool tricks, like the moons appearing out of the filings, but it just wasn't grabbing me the way it did before. I will absolutely cop to the fact that it may have been an issue with my frame of mind, all wrapped up and concerned with my schedule.  Despite my disappointment, I stuck around after he disappeared into the 1:1 so that I could see the end of the loop and the reset, which I had missed before. While I waited, I passed the time by watching William (Paul Zivkovich) and Andy (Rob McNeil)'s final scene together at the fountain. Then, eventually, the lights came back on in the toy shop and Tuttle emerged, much the worse for wear. I had no idea my first time through of the toll the experience took on him – he stumbled out of the back room, covered with blood, and collapsed in the window of the shop, gasping for air. Or maybe he was sobbing. Or both, I couldn't be entirely sure with the glass between us. Finally he composed himself and worked his way over to the motel, where the consumption of a red jellybean took him to that ambiguous state of being asleep or dead that is the hallmark of The Drowned Man. Personally, I vote dead. The convulsions seem like a dead (rimshot!) giveaway.

Sadly, I couldn't stick around to watch him wake up – I was on a schedule. As soon as the convulsing stopped, I slipped out the door and headed downstairs: it was PA time. In devising my plan for the night, I concluded that I would have to live with something just shy of a full loop with her, and essentially abandon any thought of trying to get the 1:1 (well, 2:1) that happens right after the reset. Instead, I figured on arriving in the basement while she was in the midst of it, and picking her up upon exiting.

When I reached the basement, I saw a small crowd of white masks backing away from the locked globe room, the crushing disappointment evident in their eyes. Perfect timing, then – she must have just gone in. I leaned up against the wall, watching the others disperse. A few more minutes and we'd be off and running.

Imagine my surprise, then, at the sound of a large crowd of people approaching, and my even greater surprise when they rounded the corner and I saw that the PA was leading them! I leapt forward, shocked, and she took one quick look at me, then grabbed one of the guys from behind her and lead him into the locked room. That was when it hit me. I had arrived just after the Doctor entered the room. I was early. Suddenly I realized what I had just done, completely unintentionally – I had committed the cardinal sin of the returning visitor.

I had camped a 1:1 spot.

This is, to date, the most embarrassed I have ever been at the show. I'm sure my face went bright red (saved by the mask!), and I couldn't even look anyone around me in the eye. Never before had I wanted so badly to be able to talk and explain myself, not even that time in December when I was sure Kirsty Arnold/Andrea thought I was stalking her. It's a good thing the PA's crowd dispersed quickly, allowing me to stew in isolation.  At least, for a moment- prior to the PA's return, Stanford rushed past, followed immediately by Ben and a handful of other white masks.  Once again, a friend was there to witness my shame.

The last time I followed Fania's PA was many months ago – as I mentioned before, it was at my very first show. Since then, I've done full loops with two other PA's and partial loop with a third. All of them were effective, to varying degrees, with quite a range of personalities between them. Over time, after seeing that, I had started to wonder if my memory that Fania was the best of them all was just a matter of being overwhelmed at my first show, or because it was my first exposure to the character. I'm very pleased to say that is absolutely not the case. In just the first few moments after she emerged from the locked room, I could sense the difference. If Kirsty is the fun PA and Lucia is the distant PA, Fania is continually, overwhelmingly present. The heart of the character lies in her eyes, which consume everything around them, and her fingers, which seem to have a mind of their own, always in motion, always working and scheming. Her simple presence in a room is tremendously unsettling, no matter how alluring she might otherwise be.

After returning the mannequin to the temple, she led us to her office – and along the way, we managed to accumulate a surprisingly large crowd of maybe ten people. In the office, she climbed on to her desk to retrieve the watch from the wall, then stepped forward to the edge. In my previous experience, this is the point where she would normally stumble, catching someone's hand in order to make them her assistant for the watch quest. I was still feeling kind of lousy about camping the 1:1, so I didn't even try to stand in the usual spot for that.

To my surprise, though, things played out differently. Instead of stumbling, she stood still – and the desk itself began to shake. I'm sure she was doing it herself, somehow – but it looked for all the world like the desk was the source of the movement. She crouched lower and lower, reaching her hand out into the room. The shaking got more and more intense, but no one else seemed to react, and finally, just as it began to feel like the whole room was beginning to shake, I reached out and took her hand.

Everything went still. Those wonderful, horrible eyes bored holes into my own, and she sat me down in the desk chair. She placed the watch in my hand and enchanted it with a ritual that was slightly different from before. There were no seeds, but this time she wet her lips from a bottle and marked my mask with a red smear from them. Then we went upstairs to prepare the box. She sat me at the desk and completed the whole task without looking, as her eyes never left mine the entire time. This stare down was the most intense I've had at the show yet, and I could feel my heart beating faster and faster, second by second. She stood mostly in shadow, but those eyes burned a bright white. By the time she handed me the mirrored box at the end of it, I think I was even shaking a little. I was so out of sorts that I had to compose myself for a moment before I could follow her out of the room – and, strangely, whatever had happened in those moments must have been strong enough for the rest of the room to feel, because even with the pause, I was still the first one through the door after her. Everyone else – maybe a half dozen of them – refused to move until I was out.

After the watch was delivered, the PA helped Dolores to change clothes, then angrily futzed around the dressing table for a bit. There's so much rage inside the PA; it's quite striking when glimmers of it appear – such as when Dolores tossed the dress to her and it hit her in the head, mussing her hair. The PA stood stock-still, stoic, unmoving. She betrayed no reaction at all – except in those eyes.

Eventually, said eyes met mine in one of Dolores's mirrors, and she led me off to the 1:1. Again, it felt like the room understood things in a way that it usually doesn't – the crowds parted cleanly, happy to allow me to pass. I'm used to a mad rush for the door at times like this.

I've had this 1:1 before, with another PA, but this was an entirely new experience, despite the fact that, as scripted, the two were identical. Previously, it was kind of cool, kind of sexy, but also kind of hollow. I've found that the vast majority of 1:1's really serve as the moment where the character is most exposed – if you don't really understand who they are and where they're coming from, it's where you find the key. Conrad, the Grocer, Romola, and especially Badlands Jack – I feel like you don't know the character until you share that experience. But the PA's 1:1 was really more about the job and the studio, not about her.

Not this time, though. This time. . . this time I came away from the 1:1 feeling like it was vitally important, because for the first, and only time, I felt like I saw her true face. It was terrifying, and it wasn't human. I still see it when I close my eyes, and it still chills me to the bone.

The next several scenes are kind of a blur for me – all very well performed, all compelling, etc – but honestly, that 1:1 took a little while to recover from, and sort of blots the rest out of my mind. There was the luring of Wendy to the bedroom, the preparation of the drugged drink for Marshall, the orgy – the next thing that stands out clearly is immediately after the orgy. I followed the PA down the long hallway, where we met up with Stanford (Sam Booth). As usual, they had a bit of a discussion about the orgy, and how pleased Stanford was with it, but other than the words, it was anything but “as usual.” This scene has gotten a lot more. . . physical since the first time I saw it. Nuzzling, giggling, licking of eyelids. . . I'm really not sure what to make of it.

Also, during the parts where the PA and Stanford were not touching, she spent a lot of time giving me strange looks, including one where she bent over backwards and looked at me upside down. In retrospect, I feel like I must have imagined that last bit. It's so weird, it doesn't make any sense, and I know I wasn't in the most stable state of mind at that moment. But it's what I remember, clear as day. So I just don't know.

After Stanford moved on, the PA tapped me on the chest and said “I need a drink,” leading us all back to Stanford's room. There, she poured herself a goblet of wine, took a sip, then handed it to me. I took a large gulp and – oh. That's not wine. That's whiskey. Wow. I handed it back to her, and she passed it to another white mask, then stepped around me to take the hand of a third mask (from whom she had sucked the life essence earlier) and lead him to the finale. I took another moment to myself in the room, trying to restabilize my perspective, then headed for Studio 2 as well. After the murder, I grabbed myself a spot at the front of the stage, right in the center, and suddenly Hannah and Ben appeared on either side. As we settled into our spots, we were jostled to the side by Romola (Aoi Nakamura), who was depositing her chosen white mask (a younger girl) beside us with instructions to wait for her. The finale proceeded as usual, and afterward, Dwayne (Luke Murphy) appeared, reaching for Romola's girl. In contrast to my situation with Faye and Stanford at the previous show, the girl did not hesitate (it would take a fairly unusual girl to hesitate to take Luke Murphy's hand), and he led her off, leaving Romola, a second too late and looking a bit bewildered, to find someone new.

Poor Romola. The studio just has to take everything from her.

My Time at Temple Studios, Part 16

Show #16
Friday, March 7: 9 pm

One decision I made before arriving in London was that the first time I saw James Traherne's name on the cast board next to the name “Mr. Stanford,” I would track him down straight out of the lift (unless I had a really good reason not to. Because no decision is ever truly final at Temple Studios). Of course, I do belong firmly to the camp that believes there is only one Stanford and his name is Sam Booth, but that did leave me with a perverse curiosity about what the alternate casting would be like. Plus, my admittedly limited experience with James as Tuttle suggested that he might actually be a decent fit, and I had heard some good things about him as well. Worst case scenario, I would probably be happier with him than with the previous alternate Stanford (name withheld), who just felt wrong in the role from the get-go. Either way, I needed to see for myself.

As you might have guessed, this was the show where I first saw those names paired. I quickly positioned myself to be the first one off the lift – but first, I would have to get past Sarah Sweeney's Betsy. You see, in doing so, I had also placed myself right in the middle of where she would have to walk to get from the controls to the photos and back again. She made her way to the photos without incident, but on the way back, CALAMITY! She went left. I went left. She went right. I went right. Left again, x2. Finally she stopped and gave me a look. “Excuse me, sir, are we dancing?” Sufficiently cowed, I stood still and let her push past whichever way she felt like. Teach me to try to get out of the way.

That mishap aside, I zipped out into the basement and found Stanford just where I expected, grabbing his gun from the safe and laying it out on a platter. As he stepped back and stood motionless, preparing himself for the initiation (or, technically, preparing for the 1:1. Which, by process of elimination, would have to be with me, since the only other option was no one), I looked him over carefully and decided that this could work. He doesn't possess Sam's special brand of eccentric authority, but he makes up for it with his massively imposing frame and a face that, when it gets stern, gets really, really stern.

After a few moments, however, we were joined by another couple of white masks (and I don't just mean “two” - they were wandering about, hand in hand). They circled around us, muttering audibly but unintelligibly to each other, and finally walked straight up on to the platform. I was focusing on Stanford, so I didn't see what they were doing, but I saw the flash of anger and irritation across his face as he broke from his position and strode straight for them. My first thought was that he was going to take one of them to the 1:1 as a way of splitting them apart, but it quickly became apparent that he was just trying to get them to stop fucking with his gun. Big no-no. After their silent rebuke, the troublesome duo quickly scurried out of the room, leaving me alone with Stanford again. He shook his head ever so slightly, looked me right in the eye, grabbed me by the arm, and we were off.

On the way out of the 1:1, he told me he had something he wanted me to see, and deposited me in a particular spot to watch the initiation. Amusingly, it was my usual spot for this scene anyway. This is a scene where James' height really works for him, as he towered over poor Frankie (Carl Harrison, who is actually one of the taller members of the cast himself). And of course, he pulled the usual Stanford trick of staring me down while he shoved the orange in Frankie's mouth, tying our fates together.

After the initiation, we retreated to Stanford's office/dressing room. Whatever it is. You know the one. It was still early in the night, so we were joined only by a few other white masks – however, one of them felt the need to walk right up to Stanford and ask (regarding Dolores) “excuse me, sir? What happened to the woman? Was she downsized?” I began to have a severe case of audience anxiety – with two of these incidents already, and during magic hour no less, what would the rest of the night be like? Fortunately, the man's companions quickly chastised him and left, presaging the fact that my fears would ultimately prove to be unfounded.

Soon Romola (Aoi Nakamura) came in. Based on this scene, she was easily the most meek and timid Romola I've seen, and possibly the most innocent. Even when she starts slapping Stanford, she does so very gently, and giggles through the whole thing. This Stanford also seems more gentle with her than Sam's – although his apology feels much less sincere. He definitely pushed her about the room with a soft touch, and even kissed her eyes at one point. During the dance, when Sam would typically cast a sinister smirk at some of the white masks, James' face went blank, as if he was dead inside. It was strange – this is a scene I've seen more than a half-dozen times, and yet everything about it felt completely different.

The next stop was the rolling desk dance, guest-starring Emily Mytton as Alice. I had seen her briefly at my previous two shows, but this was the scene where it really hit me just how good it was to have her back. I warmed considerably to Laura Harding's version over the course of my December trip, but watching Emily do the rolling desk dance was like slipping on an old, comfortable shoe. It just felt right. Moving into the main area of the masonic temple, Stanford did his usual dance/collapse after drinking from the chalice, but James seemed to build the collapse slowly into the proceedings, unlike Sam's sudden drop, then followed it up with some comical attempts to move after he lost the use of much of his body. Highly entertaining.

After the orgy, the slow wheelchair journey down the hallway, and the jump scare (which I swear he does just for shits and giggles), Stanford held out his hands to me. I extended my own and he took them both, examining the palms for a moment before Lila (Kirsty Arnold) came tearing down the hallway, bursting through our arms. I am still at a complete loss as to what he was doing or why he felt like doing it, unless it was purely for the purpose of throwing up an obstacle for Lila to break through. In which case: well played, sir.

The next scene, Lila's discovery, was my first extended look at Kirsty as Lila, which is a very different role from both Andrea and the PA. She seemed to fit well enough to interest me in following her for a loop (which I then proceeded to never do – maybe next time), although her timing relative to Stanford's recorded instructions seemed a little off – she was only on cabinet 2 when it started talking about cabinet 3, and I think she jumped the gun on a few reactions/gestures. Otherwise, the most notable thing about the scene was the gigantic grin plastered on Stanford's face at “we live inside a dream,” which was kind of endearing and intensely creepy all at the same time. After the scene, Stanford held the door for everyone, rather than just for a single lucky 1:1'er, and led us back into his room off of the temple, where he poured himself a drink and spoke to those of us who stuck around, covering much of the same ground that the tree room 1:1 would normally cover. To be honest, if you take away the thrill of being in a 1:1 and the fun of being given a souvenier, I think this version actually works better.

All in all, I have to stand by my original point: Sam Booth is Stanford, and that's that. But I'm pleased to see that there is now a perfectly acceptable alternative in place, who has some fun and interesting quirks of his own. I would absolutely recommend James Traherne's Stanford to anyone who feels like a bit of a change of pace from the usual.

Following the bizarre reset meeting with the Doctor (Ira Siobhan), I took my leave of Stanford to go make another attempt at a Romola loop. I found her alone in the car, dead (or asleep, depending on who you ask). Her white mask appeared to have abandoned her, but there were a trio of girls standing just outside the car, staring and occasionally shaking and poking her. Such an odd thing to be doing, especially considering that the lead girl had a Studio Pass on, implying that this was not her first time. Huh.

Soon she sprung to life, and I was immediately struck by how much dancing she worked into those initial scenes. She danced through and ultimately out of the car, she danced the whole way over to the woods, she danced through the woods, and up the trees. . . dance, dance, dance. It was quite unlike the other Romolas I'd seen – although of course, they were all either a non-dancer (Katie McGuinness) or using Romola as a lower-strain alternative to the more dance-intensive Faye and Andrea (Sonya Cullingford and Miranda Mac Letten). It definitely added some spice to these early moments, and the way it segued into her dance/encounter with Miguel meant that it turned out to be yet another step in the progression of that scene from a throw-away moment to a full-fledged, choreographed piece, as I noted back in December. I can only assume that next time I see it, they'll have found a way to work in some backup dancers or a choir or something.

Not long after that, she headed into a 1:1 with poking girl. I took some time to explore and take note of some of the local set details, then returned in time to see Miguel (Nicola Migliorati) evict her from her trailer, because Badlands Jack wasn't there to do it (Did I mention there was no Badlands Jack at this show? I should have. Because there wasn't. Yes, again.). As with the Stanford/Romola scene earlier, among others, it was fascinating to see how different the same material can be with different people involved. In this case, the blocking and most, if not all, of the dialogue was the same as usual, but with Miguel, it all seemed much more playful and less mean.

I stuck with Romola until she got to the grocery, when I noticed that the new Grocer (Monsur Ali) was in. I wasn't clicking tremendously well with Aoi's Romola, despite liking several touches she added to the role (like the additional dance stuff), so I decided to switch over. Almost immediately after Romola left, however, he disappeared into the back room with another white mask. Well, I've been there enough to know he has to come back out the same door, so I decided to wait. I took the opportunity to pore over his script in detail. One funny thing I noticed in there is that the description of the drugstore girl changes between scenes. When he first meets her, it describes her as being young, with too much lipstick on her pretty lips. In their final scene, it says she may be pretty, but you can't really tell under the weight of all the disappointment or something along those lines. It almost feels like the woman described in the later scene comes from years, if not decades down the line from the first.

I also noticed that the sound cues for the 1:1 were audible in the grocery, so I knew precisely when the other white mask would be emerging. She took off almost immediately, which meant that when the Grocer emerged a few moments later, it was just the two of us. And so it remained for the majority of the loop.

One of the first things I noticed about Monsur's grocer is that he doesn't talk much, although paradoxically, he feels much more open and exposed to the world, through his body language and expressions. Where Julian Stolzenberg was a sullen loner and Jesse Kovarsky was a repressed psychopath, Monsur was just kind of bluntly an oddball, wearing his heart on his sleeve. It's a very appealing take on the character.

Almost immediately upon emerging, he grabbed his script and headed for the drugstore. No time spent rehearsing his lines like the others, he just took off (although he stopped at several lights along the way to reread the script page). His meeting with the Drugstore Girl (Isabelle Cressy) seems to lack the sexual charge of some of the other versions of the scene – it's like he's too weird for that sort of back and forth to really get going. Then, keeping with the weird theme, he didn't even take the napkins back to his store and pretend to clean something up – he just wandered over to a table near the phone booths, stuffed his script page in, and returned them. To make matters worse, after leaving, he hung out right in front of the window watching her for several minutes. THIS GUY IS SO WEIRD. It's like he doesn't actually understand how to interact with people. Or – ooh, here's an idea. Maybe he (Eugene, the character - not Monsur, the actor) just isn't a very good actor, and can't figure out how to act naturally and follow the script at the same time. Now I wish I'd followed him back into the studio to see how he acted when he wasn't the Grocer – but I'm getting ahead of myself.

We returned to the grocery, and in short order the Drugstore Girl arrived to give him a lemonade. He offered her a slice of orange in exchange (because weird), but she refused. So he gave it to me instead. Not seeing a trash can nearby, I set the rind on the countertop. I should mention that, thus far, I hadn't seen any other white masks except for two or three that had been hanging out in the drugstore, and none of them bothered to follow her over to the grocery. Very odd, but not unwelcome.

After she left, he set about cleaning for a while. There's a funny little thing he does as part of this process – he would spray the window and wipe it down, but every time he sprayed it, he also had to wipe first his glasses, then his eyes, as if he caught some backspray. But the interesting thing is, the way he does it is very evocative of someone wiping away tears. Another oddly affecting quirk. Sometime during this process another white mask showed up, and the Grocer got him cleaning rust off of pea cans – but that didn't last long, and he quickly skedaddled. Not long after that, it was my turn for the 1:1, which has gone through some changes. Still basically the same, but slightly reorganized, and there's some very interesting new material at the end – in addition, the Grocer himself felt more raw and emotionally exposed than I'm used to.

Afterward, I had a few minutes to myself before he emerged, and I occupied them by watching Faye (Katie Lusby) and Miguel's moving (physically, not emotionally) tryst through the town. It was. . . let's just say steamy and leave it at that. Talk about chemistry. Katie, like Emily Mytton, was a part of the cast when I visited in September, but had left the show by December. Now she's back. I was quite fond of her Faye, and very much wanted to revisit her – so I resolved to do precisely that, come reset time.

We weren't there yet, though. I still wasn't through with the Grocer. Upon emerging from the back room, he found my orange rind. He gave me a weird, inscrutable look and took it back behind the counter, where he kept a trash can (d'oh!), then picked some peas up out of a can with a pair of foreceps and flung them at me, bouncing them off of my mask. I can now say that those are not fake prop peas, but rather, simply peas. After that, he returned to cleaning, and recruited me to help with the can polishing.

While I polished, a couple of other white masks came in, and very shortly thereafter the moment of truth arrived. It was time to go kill the Drugstore Girl (or whatever it is that actually happens). This is one of my favorite scenes, creepy and sad in equal measures. I was very excited to see how Monsur's Grocer would handle it – but I was completely unprepared for how it had changed.

Actually, I take it back. It wasn't time to kill the Drugstore Girl. It was time for him to make me drink some of the lemonade she brought over (surprisingly difficult with a mask and no straw). Then we went to the drugstore.

The scene there began as it always does, but then, as the Grocer began to read the script out loud. . . well, this time he didn't do that at all. Instead, I suddenly heard the voice of Stanford all around me. The amplified, voice-of-god version that pops up all over the studio. But we weren't inside the studio gates. How could this be?  My pulse quickened. I began to feel a mounting panic. Something was wrong. Something bad was going to happen. It's the same feeling I always get at this scene, but this time it was much, much worse.

But soon it was over. The Drugstore Girl was dead, or sleeping, or whatever the hell happened to her. On the way out of the drugstore, we came across Harry (Simon Palmer) on his way in to revive her. He and the Grocer stopped briefly, acknowledging each other like co-workers at a shift change. It was an odd moment that certainly makes me reevaluate Harry. Then we returned to the grocery, where the grocer crumpled up his tiny note (“the drugstore girl must know the key to my escape”) into an ever tinier ball and flung it at me. As the reset music played through the town, he changed into his actor clothes and left the shop. There was no triumphant “My Name is Eugene Greene,” like I had seen with Jesse's Grocer. Instead, he simply flipped the sign to “closed” and left, stopping for a moment to look back at the grocery in a manner that I would almost describe as wistful. I think, maybe. . . maybe this Eugene actually wanted to be the Grocer. Maybe.

That was the last I saw of him, though, because I had a date with the lovely Miss Greener. As I followed him back to the studio, I veered off toward the motel and into her room, where I found her getting ready for the day. It was a little disappointing that I'd missed the beginning of the scene, which is one of my favorites, but we weren't too far along. Also present was Faye's brother, Harry. Let me say that again, Faye's brother. Red Flag. When I first heard that one of the new Harrys was a young guy, I was dubious. When I heard that they were actually reconceiving the character as her brother rather than father, I was aghast. The father/daughter dynamic is so important to the duo, that I couldn't imagine it could ever work. Having come across Harry earlier, I knew I would be dealing with the young version, and I walked into the room fully expecting to hate him.

But you know what? I didn't hate him. In fact, I liked him quite a bit. Not since the first time I saw Sonya Cullingford's Romola back in show #3 have I done such a complete about-face in such a short time. Simon's Harry really is, in many ways, the result of winding the clock back a few decades on James Sobol Kelly's version. He's more energetic, and his optimism doesn't seem quite as hopeless, but he hits all of the right notes (except for some of the musical ones – couldn't stick to one key for the entirety of Codfish Ball). If the Infidelity Ballet is how I judge a new Wendy, this scene is the make-or-break point for Harry – and Simon definitely made it. I was wrong. This round to you, The Drowned Man. This round to you.

Although I had suddenly become very interested in doing a loop with Harry, the rest of my night was already spoken for – I let him go and followed Faye out into town, where she met Dwayne (Vinicius Salles) and danced with him and Mary (Laure Bachelot). I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but Faye is my favorite character in the show, with both Sonya and Katie's versions among my top character/performer combinations. Back in September, I described the difference between the two as being the difference between beautiful and cute. Sonya is the knockout ingenue, youthful and mostly innocent (at least at first), but also feels like a full grown adult, a little more aware of how the world works. Katie, on the other hand, is cute – kind of like a kid. Her Faye is more like a girl playing at being a woman, which makes her choices and troubles a little easier to sympathize with. I was pleased to see that, having left the show and then returned to it, Katie has held on to that aspect of the performance and really played it to the hilt. I love the way she pops the top button of her shit and half-poses against the saddlery as soon as Dwayne looks away – equal parts adorable and sad.

Soon after, she headed into the studio for her audition (Codfish Ball!) This, more than any other scene, demonstrates the difference between the two interpretations. Sonya's audition feels like a back-and-forth struggle for dominance with Claude (Fred Gehrig, in this case), while Katie struggles, but never manages to wrest control. As an individual scene, I much prefer Sonya's version – but it would be horribly out of place for Katie's Faye to take control to that degree, making her version much more appropriate in context. This is why it's nice to have the option of both, I suppose.

I should mention at this point that there were still very few white masks about. A small handful would gather at most of the scenes, but I seemed to be the only one actually following Faye from place to place. Kind of a shame, in many ways, but it certainly made my experience all the better. We crossed paths with Harry again, and I realized that having a brother-Harry instead of a father-Harry actually plays into this version of Faye very well. Assume they lost their parents early on, and that Faye was mostly raised by her older brother – it certainly explains her sort of arrested childhood coupled with a contradictory urge to grow up prematurely. Katie and Simon are a really strong pairing.

After a brief stop at the bar, it was time for Bulldog. Ah, Bulldog. My love for you is so great, yet so inexplicable. It was a real pleasure getting to see this number with 15-20 other white masks, tops. Normally I have to pick one of the three rooms on the stage and position myself accordingly, sacrificing my view of the others. Occasionally I can manage a spot that gives me a good look at two of them. But this time, I was able to see the whole thing, free and clear. Lovely. That said, I was amused to see that even with so few people in the room, Frankie and Andy (James Finnemore) still had to actively clear seven or eight people off of the locker room set mid-song. Not only a small audience, but a very inexperienced one as well.

Something very odd did happen at the end of the song, however. Typically, Faye introduces herself to Frankie and he chews her out for stepping on his timing or some other made-up reason. This time, she introduced herself as usual, but he didn't respond – just stared silently. At first, I thought he was just giving her the cold shoulder – and she reacted as if that was the case. But when I circled around a bit, I caught a look at his face. He was frozen in shock, absolutely terrified of her. It was creepy as hell, especially coming so unexpectedly at that moment. I have no idea what was going on there – my best guess is that he recognized her as his doppelganger, which she sort of is. Folklore indicates that such an experience is a harbinger of your own death, so. . . maybe? I don't know.

I was able to shake the chills out of my spine very quickly, though, as one of my favorite unexpectedly humorous moments (assisted by a serendipitous bit of interplay with another scene) took place almost immediately afterward. Backstage, Faye ran into Dwayne, and the heavy flirting immediately commenced. Dwayne tossed his hat in her direction and it fell to the floor – so she offered to pick it up. In doing so, she made sure to kick it away just a bit, so that she could stand with her back to him when she bent over. It was completely ridiculous, like a cartoon, much too blatant and silly to actually be sexy. I loved it, and was barely able to keep from laughing out loud – and I actually did let slip an audible snort when, from across the studio, I heard Alice's inimitable half-talk/half-shout just as Faye stood up (and just as the exact words were running through my head): “That was so GOOFY!”

Okay, she was actually saying to Frankie, “That was so MOVING,” but in my mind it will always be goofy.

As the scene concluded, I was able to pick up on details of the conversation I was never able to catch before, thanks to the sparse attendance. It turns out, Dwayne's not such a bad guy after all! He's not really hitting on Faye, stringing along two women at once, he just thinks she has potential and wants to give her acting lessons. It's all totally innocent, and it's really Faye's fault that she read too much into – oh. Oh, wait. He's folding up the note and tucking it into her cleavage. Never mind. What a prick.

After a quick stop in the seamstress's office, we headed out into town. It was, again, me and Faye. Just the two of us. She stopped short in the middle of the street as she saw Dwayne and Mary cavorting on the car, and held her note from Dwayne up in the light. It was right at that moment that we were joined by some old friends (sarcasm alert), the couple who like to play with guns. You remember them, from the very top of the show? I was following Faye relatively closely, but there was at least a person's-width between us. I know this because the male half of the couple decided that, with literally not a single soul within a fifteen foot radius of us, the best thing for him to do would be to stand right in front of me to read the note. Literally right in front of me, not six inches between us but whole vast galaxies of space all around. Surely this must be a joke.

Fortunately, his short attention span soon reared its ugly head and they disappeared, before Faye had even finished crumpling up the note and dropping it on the ground. Then we headed into the hotel, broke out the booze, and rushed over to Dwayne's trailer, where she did an electrifying solo piece. I wonder if Katie was injured the last time I saw her do this scene, because there wasn't much to it then – but this time, it was full of spinning, swinging, jumping, and an array of odd, twitchy movements that I couldn't get enough of. Between the way she played dress-up with Dwayne's hat and the pretend-smoking gestures, this may be the point where the little-girl-playing-grown-up aspect of the character came across most clearly. I also enjoyed the way she occasionally worked me into the choreography ever so slightly, sidling up against me and looking coyly back over her shoulder. She even did that coming off of a leap from the trailer at one point, which was a bit scary. I should mention that I generally take that level of proximity during a dance number to mean “you're in the way, get the hell out of there!” but between the looks she gave me and the fact that there was plenty of space all around for her to play with, I'm comfortable saying it was all deliberate.

Next stop was the desert, for the dance/fight with Dwayne and Miguel. On arrival, I counted the white masks – there were sixteen, including me. That's the combined followers of three characters, one of whom is a main character with his photo in the lift. During the third loop! Don't get me wrong, I was happy as a clam, but that just isn't right! As for the dance itself, well, it's the desert dance. If you've been to the show and you haven't seen it, then your priorities are clearly out of whack. Katie's version may well be the best – even though I've seen that same choreography multiple times, it felt improvised, like she was really just slipping and sliding in the sand, then trying to pretend it was all deliberate.

On the way out from that scene, I was surprised to see that Dwayne actually followed us most of the way across the desert, making weird animal sounds. That did not happen in September or December, and was. . . let's just say disconcerting. But it was over in a flash, and soon we were down in the Horse and Stars for the hoedown. As I took  my place, Dwayne swaggered in and gave my neck and shoulders a squeeze as he passed. It's funny- I've been on the receiving end of the Dwayne neck-squeeze several times now, from multiple different Dwaynes, despite my loathing for him as a character. I have to assume he's like a cat, seeking out the one person in the room who wants nothing to do with him.

The hoedown choreography went through yet another transformation, as this time the bartender (Ed Warner) didn't even come out from the bar during the dance. Also, Miguel wound up taking a bit of a nasty tumble when his feet slipped out from under him, but managed to transform it into a cool, semi-acrobatic spinning dance move and jump back into position without missing a beat. If I didn't know he was supposed to be doing the same thing everyone else was, I might not have even been able to tell anything went wrong. Top marks to Nicola Migliorati.

As the post-hoedown fight got underway, I was again the only person following Faye and Miguel out of the Horse and Stars. I can't get over how strange it was not having a whole crowd pushing down that hallway. Watching the entire scene, rather than just the bit at the end that I caught during my Grocer loop, I was struck by how much more of a chase, a game, it seemed in comparison to the other performer pairings I've seen. That's always an aspect of the scene – but typically I would describe it as 60% Miguel and Faye unable to keep their hands off of each other, with maybe 40% chasing. This was closer to 80% teasing/chasing and just 20% hands. It kind of refreshed the scene for me, as I had seen it enough times for it to start getting a little stale, and of course, made perfect sense in light of how Katie plays Faye.

A few white masks appeared while they cavorted through town, but in the end, only I followed them into the motel. Yep, two characters, one white mask, third loop. A couple of others joined us mid-scene, but by the time Miguel took off, they were gone. I have to wonder if this scene is why I've never really connected with Miguel. It's totally irrational, but every time I see him walk out on Faye, I just. Hate. Him. So. Much. Maybe I can't let go of that when I do his loop.

But enough about Miguel. The smile on Faye's face as, having undressed, she turned around expecting to see his reaction, along with the expression it transformed into when she realized he was gone, was physically painful for me. I felt it, right in my gut. It also led into the release of Katie's secret weapon – she may well be the best crier I've ever encountered. I've seen people cry for real that were less convincing. It was real enough to make my presence feel incredibly invasive, especially since I was still the only one in there.

After another quick stop at Dwayne's trailer for a depressing, angry mirror to the earlier dance (during which she again pulled me ever so slightly into the proceedings), we wound up back at the nearly deserted Horse and Stars for Walking in the Sand. If you've read my previous write-ups, you know that this is a pretty key scene for me, and she already had me in a pretty heightened emotional state. This was a dangerous time. She started the song looking at the barman, then (I assume) at one of the two or three other white masks in the room. Then, a few lines into the first verse, she locked eyes with me and refused to let go until it was over. So yeah, she sang Walking in the Sand TO ME. That's just about the best thing that's happened to me at this show, and it was almost more than I could take. I managed to avoid the waterworks (er, mostly), but only just by the skin of my teeth.

Then Harry came in and rushed her out of the saloon, in another example of a scene transitioning from a static location to happening on the move. This whole bit was kind of odd, not the same happy alternate ending I'm used to with third-loop Faye. Harry didn't invite her to a wrap party with the stars, he just snuck her in to watch the filming of the last scene. As a result, Faye didn't suddenly turn giddy and excited, all of her troubles forgotten. She tried to be happy for Harry's success. I mean, she really was happy, deep down. But nothing was forgotten. Honestly, it all really works much better this way, but part of me misses the giddy excitement. I need my cathartic release, damn it!

I followed them down to the murder, where Faye stood alone on the stage, selecting neither me nor any other white mask to watch with her. I decided to stick close by, because surely she would cheer up when the party started, and I wanted – maybe even needed – to see that. I took up a position a few feet in front of her, so that I could turn and see her expression at the appropriate moment. As Wendy (Sara Black) lifted the bloody Marshall (Jesse Kovarsky) up, I suddenly felt Faye's hand slip into mine. She squeezed tighter and tighter as Wendy dragged Marshall over to the hole – and then he was gone, and she relaxed. It was a very different take on the walkdown, but fit so very well with this version of Faye. Deep down, she's still a child. Of course she wouldn't clutch my shoulders. She'd hold my hand.

Then I turned to her and got to see that moment of elation I was waiting for. Still holding my hand, she dragged me across the stage – but unlike Sonya's Faye, she didn't try to dance with me (sigh of relief). She dropped me off at the front of the stage and told me to wait for her, then ran off to join the rest of the cast. My vantage point wound up giving me a nice, clear look at her during the second phase of the finale, where she and the other dancers were collapsed on the ground around William and Mary. I was surprised to see just how much acting and emoting she was continuing to do just with her face, even while at rest. It's the little details.

The finale came to an end, the lights went out, and when they faded back in, I saw a figure looming above me, hand extended. It wasn't Faye, though. It was Stanford. Dilemma time – she told me to wait for her, but you don't say no to a performer. Especially not one as gigantic and terrifying in silhouette as this one. What to do? Fortunately, before I had to come to a decision, Faye rushed up and pushed Stanford aside. She pulled me up to the stage, smiling, and said, “I found you,” then led me back to Luna's List reserved area of Studio 3, where we settled in against the wall, half-hidden by a curtain.

“Thank you,” she said, removing my mask. I croaked out the same in response, and she embraced me. We stood like that, arms around each other, for a long time – full minutes, I'm sure. It was exactly what I needed at that moment – all of the tension and emotion slowly seeped out of me and soon I was ready to rejoin the ranks of the unmasked and vocal. Then, with one last parting glance, she was gone, and I did just that.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the sort of show that's worth flying across an ocean for.

My Time at Temple Studios, Part 15

Show #15
Friday, March 7: 5 pm

After spending some time with the glorious new cast board at the front of the queue, I decided to start this show with another of the new class of 2014, Lucia Chocarro as the PA. Despite the number of shows I've seen, there are still several characters that I'm never quite sure about how to catch out of the first lift - I have a rough idea, but can't quite zero in. In this case, I think that point in the show corresponds to her 1:1, so my assumption would be that she's actually backstage for a few minutes – however, I've heard from others that she actually starts out in the basement. What to do? Well, the lift lets out in the basement anyway, so I rushed out, checked her office (no joy), and headed upstairs to the ground floor, where she. . . wouldn't. . . actually. . . be. . . anyway. Hmm. I contented myself with watching Marshall (James Finnemore) and Dolores (Jane Leaney) have their sexytimes in the ornate bedroom, all by myself. Just me, them, and a lone black mask. Those moments are always fascinating and exciting, but also just a little bit awkward. I know they're performing for me, but I also kind of want to look away. If only someone else was watching, I'd be fine.

Fortunately, before long, someone did show up: the PA. Right away, she was very different from the others I had spent time with. She was darker, more sinister, and completely inscrutable. No matter what angle I caught her from, her eyes seemed to disappear into pools of shadow. Where Kirsty Arnold gleefully reveled in her evil manipulations and Fania Grigoriou looked down on the world from a lofty, inhuman perch, Lucia seemed completely alien without the superiority – she's just as distant, if not more so, but it's a lateral move - if that makes any sense.

It's an interesting take, and that shadowed eyes thing makes for a very striking visual, but it does also make it more difficult to get inside her head, making it more suitable for a supporting role that pops up now and again than someone that you follow for a full loop. Still an enjoyable loop, but not one that stands out among my best. As an interesting side note, Lucia's PA seems to like to spread her attention around. Oftentimes, characters will kind of imprint on a particular audience member, returning to them time and again throughout the loop. But of the four major points of interaction (the 1:1, the 2:1, the neck suck, and the watch quest), each went to a different person (I got the neck suck!). I'll leave the debate about which approach is superior to others, as I can see the argument for both – but I do find it interesting to track the differences.

At any rate, my loop ended just about where it started, as the PA disappeared into her 1:1. Time to move on. I decided to go to the desert and try my luck with the Dust Witch. During my December trip, I hadn't even bothered to spend any time with her, because I felt like I had done her loop in September. But when I stop and actually think about it, all I had done was two scenes and the 1:1. I suppose I must have subconsciously just assumed she didn't do anything else during the rest of the loop - which is, of course ridiculous. This seemed like a good night to remedy the situation, since Laura Harding was playing her - and as anyone who's read my earlier write ups knows, she's already the scariest person in the building, even before she puts on a black veil and starts skulking about a dark desert.

I found her mid-anointing with Miguel (Ed Warner), with quite the crowd around her. The scene ended shortly after I arrived, no time to really get a sense of it. She returned to her chapel to drop off the bowl of. . . stuff.  Whatever it is that she smears all over him.  Then she slipped outside, running her hands along many of ours on the way. I have to assume one of the other guys grabbed hold, because she pulled him out and off to the 1:1. Damn, fortune did not favor the non-bold.

I've finally reached a point in my Temple Studios journey where I'm no longer afraid of missing things if I'm not busy every single second. So I decided I could wait for her to emerge. I waited. And then I waited some more. Faye passed by on her way to the sand dance. I kept waiting. Faye left. Still waiting. Did you know that the sand doesn't actually extend all the way to the wall? I sure do, now. It stops about six feet out. More waiting. The lucky white mask emerged. Dusty did not. Waiting some more. Wandered over to the scarecrows for a bit. Wandered back. And hey! What's this? We have Dust Witch? Excellent. Loop resumes. . . .now.

The Dust Witch headed over to Mary's shrine in front of the scarecrows, and I found myself a spot off to the side. She began a very cool prayer/ritual session (“set to the music from Signs!” screamed the playlist-maintaining portion of my brain), which ended with light streaming out of dozens of holes in the shack behind her. It was really something to see, incredibly dramatic considering how low-key it really was. The whole event ended with the Dust Witch stumbling away, wracked with horrible coughs. She worked her way over to the wall, then flattened herself against it just as Dwayne (Luke Murphy) rushed in, coughing and struggling just as she had. A premonition, I have to assume? My original intention with the Dust Witch was to follow her to the reset, then do a full final loop with Drugstore Girl - but after that spectacular display, I decided to go for the full cycle.

Overcome with anguish, Dwayne began to strip out of his clothes, twirling around the sand and flinging it everywhere. As he moved deeper into the desert, the Dust Witch took my hand. “Please help me,” she said, leading me out to where Dwayne had been a few moments earlier. Not sure what exactly I can help her with, but I'm certainly not going to say no. She knelt down in the sand and began fumbling about with her hand, and it hit me: she's blind. Of course. I picked up Dwayne's shoes, socks, and shirt, and handed them to her. She stuffed them into a concealed sack that began to look for all the world like a false pregnant belly, and we headed over the the murder dune where Dwayne had stripped down completely and was flinging himself through the air in wild circles. I have to admit, I have a lot of respect for the guys who play Dwayne – that role takes some real balls (no pun intended).  You're just out there for the world to see, with nowhere to hide. Once he finally expended and exhausted himself, the Dust Witch helped him to his feet and took him downstairs. Now, since I had been following her, rather than him, I was in a prime position and was the first one down the stairs after them. I have to admit I may have taken just a tiny bit of perverse pleasure in getting between Naked Dwayne and his legions of schoolgirl fans – although one of them did manage to duck under my arm(!) when I pushed a door open and get ahead. Where there's a will, there's a way.

It was a surprisingly long walk to the first floor chapel, through portions of the studio. I had no idea the Dust Witch walked through this much of the first floor, and no idea that Dwayne covered this much ground without his pants. So weird, so awkward. We eventually arrived, and all gajillion of us crowded into the bath room (as opposed to bathroom) off to the side, where the Dust Witch sort of reset Dwayne. I've heard many people say that she's a gentle, comforting presence who calms him down, but that's certainly not what I saw. I suppose that's kind of the end result, but the process was surprisingly violent, resembling a forced baptism or even a drowning more than anything else. I was suitably creeped out by the end, and my pants legs were completely soaked.

Her work complete, the Dust Witch left the room, and I followed her past throngs who were still in the process of trying to get into the room. She passed through the trailer park, and then the saloon (such an incongruous image). Back upstairs, she encountered the recently dead Mary (Laure Bachelot) at the shrine, and here that sense of comforting and aiding came out, as her presence seemed to restore Mary's sanity, even as Mary seemed to yearn for her like a child for a mother. Immediately thereafter, Dust Witch took someone in for a 1:1, and it was time for me to shift plans – as much as I wanted to see the rest of the loop, I didn't want to wait around in that same spot for that same amount of time again. Back to plan A: Drugstore Girl.

DG (Isabelle Cressy) was, as usual, puttering about her drugstore. I had decided to follow her for two reasons – one, to revisit a character I really enjoyed, and two, because it would give me an opportunity to see how they got along without a Badlands Jack (Did I mention there was no Badlands Jack at this show? I should have. Because there wasn't. Anyhow. . . ). Sadly, the loop had been tweaked just enough anyway that I wasn't able to really notice exactly how they covered him – I suppose the Drugstore Girl just spent a bit more time hanging out and not doing anything in particular than she might otherwise have.

But enough of what I didn't see: here's what I did see. I got a magic red lemonade almost right off the bat, and the details worked out in such a way that I was finally able to see exactly how it worked. I wound up with a near-perfect (almost dangerously so) seat for the Andy(Tomislav English)/Miguel struggle. I got my first extended look at one of the new Harrys, James Traherne. He plays it quite a bit differently from James Sobol Kelly – much goofier, more clowning. Sweeter, too – I wasn't really feeling that edge of desperation that I got from JSK. I saw Bulldog (how did I manage not to see it during my first show of this batch? Inexcusable). I saw DG deliver a lemonade to the Grocer (Jesse Kovarsky) instead of the gatekeeper(!) and dance in her rollerskates with the Barman (Nicola Migliorati). I followed her to the hoedown, where the Barman was forced to dance by himself a the end of the line as if sitting at the head of the table, on account of Jack's absence. This was the point where I noticed that Lily Ockwell (Faye) had managed to work in a pretty good scream to kick the hoedown off (she's famous for her Sexy Witch Shriek at Sleep No More). It's not really a patch on the Sexy Witch Shriek, but still a nice little touch that I appreciated and enjoyed.

Eventually we wound up back in the drugstore, and I was served a jelly baby. Andy came in, pitched a fit (understandably so, admittedly), and knocked over the postcard rack on his way out. This is roughly where I would have expected a Jack visit, but of course he didn't show up, so DG just spent the time picking up and sorting the postcards. This left me feeling kind of awkward – on the one hand, it's instinctive to want to help her. On the other hand, what degree of intruding on the action is really appropriate? My decision was made pretty quickly, though, when she picked up the rack, knelt down to start in on the postcards, looked back at the rack, and stood back up to re-adjust the rack a few inches to the side. She just looked so sad, and the move was so pathetically ineffectual, I couldn't help myself, and joined in on the picking and sorting. Afterward, she thanked me quietly and weakly, then retrieved a rose from behind the counter and. . . grabbed the hand of an old woman and took her down to the murder. Harumph (I say facetiously).

Those two moments (the rack adjustment and the half-hearted “thanks”) actually carried more emotion than anything else in the loop. It's kind of funny the things that will click with you.

On the way out of the drugstore, I could hear that Faye was still in the midst of “Walking in the Sand.” I immediately headed that way because, hey, it's “Walking in the Sand.” Sadly, I was immediately accosted by a black mask that insisted I follow DG down to the murder. I don't really get it – there's clearly still stuff happening on this floor, so why can't I go see it? Still, I was obviously not about to get in a fight over it, so down I went. On my way in to Studio 2, I passed Ace (Mateo Oxley) as he was herding the Studio 3 bar-goers inside. Apparently recognizing me, he gave me a knowing smirk and a “well, well, well” as I passed.

A few brief moments after that, it was all over. Not a bad show (can there ever truly be one?), and it had some very cool moments (Seriously, that Dust Witch scene at the shrine. SERIOUSLY), but for the most part it never really wowed me, or drew me in like the best shows do. Coming right on the heels of a first show with significant portions that kind of felt the same way, I was starting to wonder if the magic had worn off. Still, I was committed to four more shows over the weekend – would one of them change my mind?

Would it?

Would it?

Spoiler: Yes.