My Time at Temple Studios, Part 21

Show #21

Friday, May 16: 5 pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pal, we're going to level three.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Time at Temple Studios, Part 20

Show #20

Thursday, May 15: 7 pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Time at Temple Studios, Part 19

Show #19

Sunday, March 9: 5 pm

Here we are, at the end of another run of shows. Just like last time (show 13), I had a dream show in mind – a plan for the entire show, three loops – if, that is, the cast board gods felt fit to smile upon me. Last time, I got one of my three. Would I do any better this time? Here's what I was hoping for, in descending order of likelihood:

1. Ira Siobhan's Claude. He was high up on my priority list pre-trip, and nothing I had seen put me off – but still, I never actually got around to doing it because sometimes that just happens. Fortunately, he was one of only two active Claudes, so there was a 50-50 chance.
2. Miranda Mac Letten's Faye. Ever since I heard she was playing the part, I wanted to see it. She was part of my dream show in December, after not playing the role at all during the rest of the trip. The same was true of this trip, bringing me to twelve shows with no luck. The odds were longer for her – she was one of four Fayes, although one had been on vacation – so somewhere between 3:1 and 4:1.
3. Sonya Cullingford's Seamstress. Speaking of the vacationing Faye, Sonya's Seamstress had been my A#1, top priority. My favorite performer in a new role I hadn't seen her do – how could it not be? Unfortunately, she had been on vacation throughout my entire trip, so the only way I could possibly catch her is if she both happened to start back up on a Sunday, which seemed odd, and happened to be playing the Seamstress if she did, which was unlikely since Faye is her primary role. Astronomical long shot.

Being a bit anxious, I was of course the first person to wind my way toward the cast board, and here's what I saw: Ira was the Doctor. Strike 1. Miranda was not on at all. Strike 2. Sonya was the Seamstress. Strike – wait, what?

It is entirely possible I may have done a little dance in the queue, all by myself, while everyone else was filtering in. Not saying I did.  But I might have.

One out of three, the same as I had in December. But this time, I would get to see the most important one – so I was already off to a better start. As I've mentioned before, normally I like to go in and hit my predetermined loop right out of the lift, but this time I decided to save the Seamstress for third loop. It was to be my last show (possibly ever, but more likely just for a while), and it seemed appropriate to end it on what I had to assume would be a high note. This left me with a dilemma – what to do until then? There were, of course, plenty of other loops I wanted to see, but how to decide which one? Suddenly the door to the maze opened, and we were off to the lifts. No more time to think, had to decide.

What I decided to do was essentially not to decide. I would start off the night hitting a few things I had enjoyed in the previous shows, then move on to a full loop once I saw something that grabbed me. This meant that my first stop was the desert. I had never been up there at the start of the show before, and I wanted to spend a bit more time with Laura Harding's Dust Witch.

When I got to the desert, I found it completely and utterly deserted (or so I thought). Some of my friends have told me that the desert at the top of the show is just about the eeriest place in Temple Studios, and I'd be hard pressed to disagree. With no signs of life around, I decided to explore the Dust Witch's chapel for a bit until she appeared. It's an odd structure, shaped like a cross and low enough that you have to duck around most of it. It's very earthy, dirty and grungy in a way that feels more like it came from the dirt, rather than being coated with it. The most intriguing thing I found in there was a copy of the postcard that William sent to Mary sometime in the past, which was kept inside of a birdcage. This meant that there were three copies of that postcard in existence at the same time (Stanford has one as well) within the world of the show. How very strange.

As I turned away from the postcard, I caught a glimpse of the doorway, all the way at the other end of the chapel. There, a tiny bit of black fabric fluttered past, disappearing to the side almost before I saw it. My pulse instantly skyrocketed, both from the excitement that the Dust Witch had arrived and from the fact that the glimpse of fabric was easily on of my top 5 scariest moments at The Drowned Man. So. Damn. Creepy.

I rushed outside and found the Dust Witch standing just around the corner from the door, in shadows so deep I could barely see her. There was no sign of motion, so I just stood and watched. Finally, she moved around the corner toward the door, and as she stepped into the light, I saw that her hand was extended just a bit. Did that mean - ? But before I could react, she pulled her hand back and stepped inside the chapel. There, she made her way to her cot and went to sleep.

Curse my inadequate night vision. I think I just missed a 1:1. And now she's going to take a nap instead.

I watched her sleep for a couple of minutes, then wandered outside, planning to stay close by in case she woke up. On exiting, I saw that another white mask had arrived, and was staring up at the top of the nearby sand dune. I had to get very close before I could see that the new Miguel (Georges Hann) was crouched there, unmoving. He must have been there the whole time.

This was the point in the loop where he would normally either be finishing up his anointing with the Dust Witch, or having a white mask wash him off from the same. Since neither of those seemed to occur in the first loop, I could only assume he'd be sitting up there until Dwayne showed up. In other words: nothing to see here. That was when I realized where I was standing – right next to the infamous potion room that I had never seen before. So I got down on my hands and knees, crawled through the secret tunnel, and checked it out. I didn't spend long in there, however – I heard a bit of commotion outside and emerged to find that Dwayne (Vinicius Salles) had arrived, and not long after, we were joined by Faye (Katie Lusby). It was quite nice to revisit her desert dance after the wonderful loop I had with her at show 16, and since it was early first loop, the scene was just as empty of white masks.

As the scene drew to a close, I discovered two things. First, the bright light emanating from the chapel that illuminates Dwayne's rage has a side effect of massively over-lighting the interior of the chapel, which doesn't do it any favors. Second, the Dust Witch (who had finally roused from her slumber) is, if anything even more creepy in bright light. Something about the contrast, I guess.

Everybody else had left with Dwayne, Faye, and Miguel, so I followed the Dust Witch, alone, over to Mary's shrine, where she performed that amazing prayer ritual. This time was even more impressive, as I positioned myself in the perfect spot – dead center in the aisle between the scarecrows (but far enough back not to disrupt the view of anyone who might show up. I'm not heartless). When the shack lit up at the end, it looked like I was inside a tunnel of light. Magnificent.

Not long after, Dwayne returned, and I took that as my cue to depart. Sean Edwards was back as Badlands Jack for the first time since my first show of the trip, and I wanted to revisit the end of his loop. I found him leaving the bar with his noose package. Not much to say about the subsequent events that I didn't already say in my write-up for show 14, but I very much enjoyed revisiting it (doubly so, now that not only Sean, but also the entire character of Badlands Jack have departed the show). Around reset time, he disappeared into his trailer for a 1:1, as before – but with a bit of a snag. The girl he selected wouldn't go with him! He grabbed her arm and pulled, but she held fast to a friend with her other hand (imagine my eyes rolling at this point). He gave one more unproductive tug, then released her. Fortunately, the next person he grabbed seemed to be very pleased with the turn of events.

At this point, I remembered that I had intended to spend some time with the Barman sometime during my six shows, and had largely failed to do so (my five minutes with Luke Murphy at show 17 don't count, on account of only being five minutes). I wandered into the Horse and Stars to make up for this deficiency, only to find the place dark and silent, and the barman asleep on his counter with a hat over his face. Not the best time then. Now what to do?

I went back to the desert to catch the Dust Witch's reset encounter with Mary (Laure Bachelot). The scene was just getting started as I arrived. Many people have described the Dust Witch as a comforting presence, and while I did get that feeling from my 1:1 with her way back in my second show, I don't generally see that in her interactions with other characters. This time, however, watching her and Mary with that idea in mind, that aspect of the relationship was staggeringly obvious. Mary yearned for her touch the way a child yearns for its mother, and was soothed by it in just the same way.

Immediately after that, the Dust Witch disappeared into a 1:1 and I left her domain, for good this time. A short hop down the stairs took me back to the Horse and Stars, where the Barman was up and about – and, surprise surprise, he was played by Nicola Miglioratti (the cast board said Ed Warner, and listed Nico as Andy). I leaned on the bar to watch him and almost immediately he gave me a shot. Can't complain about that. Not long after that he poured me a second one. I gave it a look and he shrugged, explaining “You're a big guy.”

He spent the next bit doing some cleaning and dancing a bit to the soundtrack (“I Wanna Hug Ya, Kiss Ya, Squeeze Ya”), and my mind wandered back to who I wanted to follow for my middle loop. Then it hit me: Harry Greener (Simon Palmer). He'd impressed me during his first scene with Faye, I hadn't seen much of him, and the character in general is one of my favorites. Easy choice. All I had to do was figure out how to find him. I knew he had just recently left Faye, and that he'd run back into her after her audition, but that was a couple of scenes down the line. I wracked my brain. Where did he go in between? Where? Where? If only I could remember. . . .

Then, as if by magic, he walked right in and took up a spot on the bar opposite me. Of course. That's where he goes in between. I suppose it was meant to be. I shifted around to the active side of the room to catch a rousing rendition of “The Devil's Right Hand," which I hadn't seen since my last Harry loop in December (Of course, since I never follow Dwayne or the Barman, how would I?). After that I followed him to the Buchner house, where he did his polish sales routine for Lila (Kath Duggan). This was my first time seeing Kath during this trip; presumably she was also freshly returned from holiday. I hadn't really noticed her absence while she was gone, but it did feel really good to see her back on set. Even though Lila isn't a critical character for me, she (as well as Kath's portrayal of her) is a key part of the fabric of the show.

Eventually we wound up back at the motel, at the point where I had once had a 1:1 with James Sobol Kelly's Harry. This time, there was no 1:1, though - instead, he got himself ready to head to the drugstore, slowly preparing the flyers he would hang in the phone booths, cutting each slit in the paper, making the tape loops. . . it wasn't boring, per se, but it was a tad protracted. At least he kept up a steady stream of patter throughout.  But it was uneventful enough that the other white mask in the room audibly scoffed before bailing out.

Finally we actually arrived at the drugstore, where I got my big shock of the night: just before calling Temple Studios to see if he got a job, Harry did THE ORGY LINE DANCE!!. All by himself, standing atop the black and white checkerboard floor, he ran through the entire routine. What does it mean? Hard to say for sure, but it certainly cast a much more sinister light on poor Harry. In conjunction with his odd encounter with the Grocer just outside of the drugstore a few nights earlier, I may have to accept that he's a lot more tied into things than it seems at first glance.

Then things lightened up a bit with the arrival of the Drugstore Girl (Isabelle Cressy). This scene between the two of them is a favorite of mine, a nice, sweet moment amidst the doom and gloom. It also turned out to be Simon's finest moment in the role – he was a glowing ball of energy, constantly in motion. He sold the hell out of the scene in a way I haven't seen anyone else manage.

After that, it was off to the Horse and Stars for a rather unpleasant (in a good way) encounter with the Barman, as Harry's descent accelerated. Nico's Barman seemed to be the most sympathetic to Harry out of all the Barman I've seen do the scene, letting him get away with a lot more before he got angry. It mostly served to make Harry's drunken betrayal that much more awful. Soon after, Harry was stumbling down the street with his “I want and need work” sign, ranting on about this and that. Among the subjects- a certain philosophical argument that had been made to me by Luke Murphy's Barman at show 17. Yet another connection for the man who had seemed to perpetually be on the outside looking in.

When the Gatekeeper (Paul O'Shea) came to rouse Harry from his drunken stupor and send him down to Studio 3, I was treated to a scene that played out very differently from what I had seen before. It used to have very bizarre, sinister, almost supernatural overtones, enough so that I had begun to contemplate the idea that Harry didn't pass out, but actually died – and the Gatekeeper resurrected him. James Sobol Kelly played that sequence almost as a zombie, and the Gatekeeper seemed to command him. There was none of that with Simon's Harry – it was just a plain, simple encounter between a fallen celebrity and one of his last, biggest fans, who was there to give him a hand up.  It was really odd to have a bit of warmth at that particular moment.

Harry's song in Studio 3 also played very differently. Following a brief, lovely moment where he tried to enter through the locked doors, Harry rushed in just as the band was striking up the music, applauded like a conquering hero. He sang his song (no problem holding a key here), then rushed out again as soon as it was over. It really helped to keep the energy up and sell the moment as a high point for Harry, even though I did sort of miss watching the execs fawn over him a bit.

I followed Harry out of Studio 3, and back up to the first floor – but there we parted ways. I had already seen Simon do the next bit of his loop, and leaving at this point allowed me to end Harry's story with him as happy and successful as he ever gets – how could I resist?

Okay, okay, those were kind of secondary reasons. The real reason was that, by my calculations, it was time to go see the Seamstress. From previous experience, I knew that she would end her third loop by doing a 1:1 right around this point, then head to the finale. If I timed it right, I would catch her just coming out of the same 1:1 in the second loop, thus ensuring that I would have one full loop with her exactly.

Of course, one thing that should be obvious by now is that I'm terrible with timing things right. In this case, I was a little early, and she was still out and about, doing Romola (Aoi Nakamura)'s makeup. I caught just enough of a glimpse of her to see that it was indeed Sonya (after the Andy/Barman casting discrepancy, I was a little worried about my plans falling apart), then rushed off to the Doctor's office. No sneak previews for me. There, I found. . . absolutely nothing. No sign of the Doctor. So I contented myself with exploring the set for a bit, and when I wandered back to the Seamstress's domain, I saw that the door to the 1:1 room was shut. Just about showtime. I took up a spot against the wall, and in short order a white mask emerged, followed a minute or two later by the Seamstress.

Almost immediately, after a bit of tidying up, she headed through the clothes maze to her shop, followed closely by her white mask from the 1:1. I hung back slightly, torn between not wanting to get in the way between them and ABSOLUTELY wanting to get in the way between them. Fortunately, my dilemma was quickly resolved when the other mask disappeared around the end of the next scene.

The purpose of heading into the shop was, of course, so that the Seamstress could reset Frankie (Carl Harrison). When I saw this scene with Kathryn McGarr's Seamstress, I was struck by how gentle and nurturing she was with him, in contrast to her generally sassy and evil ways. I had even started to theorize that she might actually be his mother. Sonya was, if anything, even more gentle and kind – but watching her and Carl together certainly made my motherhood theory look. . . well, utterly ridiculous. You know, given that he's got to have at least five years on her. Sister, maybe? Now I'm just throwing darts at a wall.

After that, we headed down to Studio 4 for the first real scene of the loop. I will confess to using my previous experience as a guide and planting myself in what I now know to be the Seamstress Attention Spot, in the hope that it might work for me again. And sure enough, it did – but this time I didn't receive a charm – instead, once the cameras began to roll, I felt her hands on my shoulders, and heard her voice in my ear as she began to describe the beginnings of Wendy's breakdown.

There are certain instincts that people have, and there's not a lot that can be done about them. One such instinct, for me, is that when someone talks to me, I look at them. So as soon as the Seamstress began to speak, I turned my head – and suddenly she fell silent, staring straight ahead at Wendy (Sara Black) and Andrea (Kirsty Arnold) as if she had never spoken at all. So I turned to look at them, and she began to talk again. I turned back to her involuntarily. Silence. Turned back to Wendy and Andrea. She began again. Then the scene ended, and she cut off mid-sentence. Apparently I had wasted so much time with my inability to get with the program that she hadn't managed to get through her piece. Oops.

On the way out to the dressing room, there were enough people around that I foolishly decided to try to zip through a shortcut (a longcut, actually, but presumably faster due to the lack of traffic), rather than attempt to follow the Seamstress directly. The intention was to make sure I didn't get stuck behind anyone and lose her, but it kind of backfired – by the time I finished coming around, she had already handed a couple of dresses to another white mask, for him to carry up to her workshop. This, of course, meant that she was also about do take him in for a 1:1, and of course, that is precisely what happened. Heartbreak! Jealousy! How could she pick him, after whispering in my ear? Actually, I didn't really want that 1:1, not really. In my ideal scenario, I would get it at the end of the loop instead, and finish off my night in style.

I took the opportunity to nose around Studio 5 for a bit, and when the Seamstress emerged (the other white mask took off as soon as he was let out of the room), I followed her back into her workshop to find Stanford (Sam Booth) waiting. He and the Seamstress shared their brief moment of plotting and scarf-swapping, then he departed, taking every single other white mask with him. It was just me and the Seamstress. I figured I was in for a bit of downtime with her, maybe some behind the scenes work or shuffling around of props – but instead, she threw me a curveball. She headed out to the main hallway and took the passageway next to the Drugstore out into the arcade. Oh, this was very interesting indeed – I had no idea the Seamstress ever ventured that far into town. She headed to Tuttle (Jude Monk McGowan)'s toyshop, where she delivered a mysterious vial to him. It looked rather a lot like Conrad's vial, and the contents were red when he dropped a bit into his paintbrush water. He expressed disappointment in the amount, and she said it was as much as she could get her hands on. Then he poured a bunch of jelly beans into her hand as payment, carefully picking back the red ones (anyone who's seen the end of Tuttle's loop knows why she doesn't want those).

Sometimes when I write these things out, I have to marvel at just how bizarre it all is, and just how suppressed my WTF?-response is when I'm in there.

We re-entered the workshop through the clothes maze, and the whole way the Seamstress was popping jelly beans like candy. See how messed up my perspective was? I actually just thought it was notable that she was treating the candy like candy, rather than like pills. Why would I even think of pills at that point? Anyway, let's hope it was just candy, because at the end of the clothing maze (and let me tell you, she can zip through that thing like no one's business. Impossible to keep up), I found her waiting for me with one of the jelly beans in hand, which she then proceeded to feed to me.

At this point we picked up a couple of other white masks, but lost them again almost immediately, because as soon as the Seamstress finished writing out a note for Faye, she took me by the hand and led me to the 1:1 room. The 1:1 itself was, easily, my favorite of the three that I've had with the Seamstress, if for no other reason than because Sonya's version is rewritten slightly from the others and no longer feels like it was written for a female white mask. In addition to the gender-appropriateness, the rewritten ending is also considerably more ominous and intense than before. Finally, it also began with an interesting character-based bit that really helped to cement my understanding of Sonya's version of the Seamstress. She's the nice one. Where Kathryn Mcgarr seemed to revel in her evil manipulations, and Kate Jackson went about her duties with a cold dispassion, Sonya generally tries to comfort her victims, and ease the pain as much as possible. That much is clear from watching her even briefly. What I picked up from the question she asked me in the 1:1 is that she's not being forced to do any of this. She's not a victim – she may hate the specifics of her job, and what she has to do to people – but she's on board with the overall purpose. This leaves her in a very difficult place, mentally, and her plea for understanding – her desire to explain herself, was surprisingly moving, creeping up on me from out of nowhere.

After I was ejected from the 1:1 room, I had a couple of minutes to myself, and the side effect of having that 1:1 occurred to me – I would, therefore, not get it at the end of the loop.  In other words, on account of just having had an awesome 1:1, I had also just lost any chance of the walkdown. Holy mixed feelings, Batman. Fortunately, I was having a great time with the loop and enjoying a bit of a rush from the 1:1, so the disappointment took a fairly distant back seat.

When the seamstress emerged from the 1:1 room, we wound up hanging out in the hall for a bit, waiting for Faye to emerge with her new dress and shoes. While we waited, we munched on the last two jelly beans. It's for the best that this was the last of them - after all this time in her hand, they were. . . a little warm. When Faye came out and had a brief talk with the Seamstress, my brain had a little bit of a fritz. Why is Faye talking to Faye? Surprisingly difficult to process. Back when Sonya and Katie were just alternating Faye and Romola, there was never a point where their two characters crossed paths, so I never had to deal with this before.

After Faye left, the Seamstress gathered some things and went out to her shop, where she set about threading a charm on to a pendant. This must have been approximately where I had come in when I followed Kathryn McGarr's Seamstress, which meant we were about to hit the point of the wall slam/charm delivery inside the clothing maze. Thus, I was slightly saddened when a couple of people emerged from the clothing maze in the midst of the charm-threading, meaning I would not be able to follow the Seamstress directly through the maze. Turns out, it didn't matter – nothing out of the ordinary happened inside the maze, and the charm (a car, I eventually discovered) wound up hooked over the clipboard with the Romola makeup instructions.

After a bit of scheming with the Doctor (Ira Siobhan), it was time for the infidelity ballet.  During the prep for the scene, I managed to pull my patented “stand out of the way in exactly the spot where the character is going to need to go in a minute despite having seen this scene several times” move, after managing to avoid doing so through all of the rest of my March shows.  So close, and yet, so far. 

 There was also an intriguing and unsettling moment when Wendy started to talk about seeing people all around her. When she asked the Seamstress if she could see them, she looked me right in the eye when she said “no.”

One thing I've noticed about Sonya is that her voice projects more than a lot of the other performers, particularly the other women, so I had high hopes that I would finally get the chance to discover exactly what she whispers to Andrea during the ballet. I positioned myself right at the edge of the stage, no more than two feet from them – but nothing. It's like she didn't want to be heard (I later learned this was, in fact, the case). Toward the end of the scene, the Seamstress took up as spot on the edge of the main stage, near the bedroom set, then held her hand out to me. I joined her onstage and she again took me by the shoulders, whispering details into my ear as Wendy found the scissors.  Incidentally, this is a fantastic vantage point for that moment, which I never would have guessed. As Wendy headed over to the red stage, the Seamstress turned me to face it and continued her whispering, finally running her hand gently down my back in that inimitable Punchdrunk way as she departed for the backstage when Stanford called “cut.”

Right about that time (okay, exactly at that time), Romola arrived, and my brain had another weirdness fritz. It was so strange to watch Sonya interacting with Romola when I was used to her being the other half of the scene. I followed her over to the workshop to prep the car crash makeup and it felt oddly appropriate, even comfortable, to watch her mouth along with Romola's dialogue as it boomed across the hall.

During the makeup application, I was again struck by how gentle Sonya's Seamstress was with her – even more so when Romola rushed out of the room. Normally it is Romola who protests when the Doctor tells her she was in an accident, but this time it was the Seamstress who kept repeating, “it's okay, it's only makeup.” And when she held Romola as the Doctor fed her the pea/pill that would wipe her memory, she didn't restrain her head so much as cradle it. Again, surprisingly touching.

As Romola and the Doctor departed, the Seamstress grabbed a rose from the shrine, and I knew the night was coming to an end. I had resolved myself to not having a shot at the walkdown, so I didn't rush to follow her to the 1:1 room, winding up behind two or three others – but to my surprise, she didn't take someone in with her and lock the door. She wedged a woodblock under the door and let us all follow her in. Interesting. Maybe things weren't as hopeless as I thought.

Inside, she reiterated her question from earlier (“You understand why I do it, don't you?”). By this time, I really did, and I nodded emphatically. She changed into her dancing shoes, looked down at her apron, and then back up at me.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Apron or no apron?” I gestured in the negative. “You're right. It is a party, after all,” she said, removing the apron.

She slipped easily through the crowd of white masks and left the room, but I was not so lucky, getting snarled in a massive traffic jam at the door. By the time I made it out to the hallway, she was more than halfway down it, with at least a dozen people between us.  Once again, hope faded away - there was no way I was going to catch up to her. But then, at the end of the hallway, she stopped. And when I got to the back of the knot of white masks, she reached through the crowd to take my hand.  I guess the story gets a happy ending after all.

As we walked downstairs, ahead of the others, she chattered on about the film they were making and the final scene that was about to be shot, including a couple of interesting points – first, she reiterated that she really, truly believed in this production, reinforcing the idea that, despite her misgivings, she does her work of her own free will. Second, and perhaps even more interesting, she told me that she thought Wendy would be the one who could finally pull it off, AFTER ALL THE OTHERS HAD FAILED. That certainly puts a different spin on things, although if you've explored the basement enough, you may already have a sense for exactly what she meant by that.

We reached Studio 2 much earlier than the last time I went there with the Seamstress (benefit of skipping the 1:1), and she gave me the usual murder-watching squeezing-clutching treatment. When Stanford called cut, she exclaimed with joy (and perhaps a bit of disbelief), “She did it! She actually did it!” Then she took me over to the platform between the caravans, announcing with a knowing smirk, “best seat in the house.”

I was on quite the emotional high at this point. Both of my previous trips to London had ended with shows that were. . . let's say weaker than usual. In fact, they were probably my two worst shows of all. But this time was different. Not only was it a solid show all around, but the all-important third loop had turned out exactly as I had hoped, and much better than I had expected. As the Seamstress turned to leave me, I wanted to say something to her - “thank you,” I guess, although that seems inadequate. But of course, I couldn't say anything. So I gave her hand a squeeze, the only bit of acknowledgment I could think of. She turned back, smiled, and leaned up to kiss me on the cheek – and then she was gone.

So that's how my third vacation to Temple Studios ended – watching the finale from the best seat in the house, with a giant smile plastered on my face. What more could I possibly ask for?

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.