It’s been a while since I last posted so I wanted to preface my latest exegesis with a brief explanation. Recent mumblings within certain circles have suggested a loathing for ‘exposing the secrets of Temple Studios’ and so as the architect of the loops file on the Facebook page I became riddled with guilt and inevitably a little hesitant to return fingers to keyboard. However, I’ve since come to the conclusion that it’s unfair to insist on a blanket code of ethics for something so malleable and subjective - for me, The Drowned Man isn’t a clandestine form of theatre in which everything about the performance must remain within studio walls; it’s one giant puzzle, to be discussed and dissected with fellow fans in order to bring together all the pieces of the jigsaw.
The bottom line is that I like to wax lyrical about The Drowned Man and its many nooks and crannies, and will continue to do so until its doors close in February. Although I believe that the spoilers I’ve personally read have led to memorable moments I would have otherwise blindly overlooked I confess that they can also damage an experience and remove the element of surprise that can prove so magical. I’ll therefore do my utmost to flag any potential spoilers that lie ahead. If readers proceed regardless then I believe that to be their responsibility rather than mine. The truth is that I write my recaps predominately for my own benefit, as a way of preserving the experience so I can look back in years to come and reflect on what ultimately became an integral part of my life for six months. I don’t feel I should feel guilty for that.
So… if you’re yet to follow Badlands Jack or the Dust Witch, look away now. And if you haven’t even stepped foot in Temple Studios, then my advice would be to refrain from reading any recaps whatsoever.
As with many of the world’s most celebrated works The Drowned Man lingers in your mind long after you exit the studio doors, and it’s this mesmeric influence that brought together members of the Facebook clan for their second group outing. Unlike many such awkward social occasions this one was blessed with an immediate icebreaker: “So, how many times have you been?” And from thereon in you could talk incessantly with a complete stranger about the ins and outs of Temple Studios. If only weddings possessed this handy tool.
The flip side is that most characters would be shadowed by a veteran, and that intimate connection that much harder to find. I had a plan, however: Badlands Jack doesn’t attract much of a following and having caught the dramatic conclusion of his loop last time I just had to witness first-hand how he reached such a heart-wrenching end. David Essing possibly lacks the virility of such a brutish character (watching him bully Nicola Migliorati’s Andy felt unavoidably unrealistic), but he moves with such poise and grace that he’s impulsive viewing in any role and manages to evoke sympathy for an otherwise detestable figure.
He’s also a master of improv. We kicked off proceedings in the motel reception, furtively catching the action outside via a pair of binoculars. I wanted to see the world through his eyes, so I mimicked his every move. If he hid; I hid. If he sat at the bar; so did I. If he glanced into the town centre; my eyes would follow. But just as I was watching him flick through newspaper cuttings the tension was shattered by a loquacious young lady who strode in with a swagger before breaking her conversation and whacking the reception bell defiantly. Jack peered up menacingly, skirted snakelike around the desk and held his knife to her chest. “These are dangerous parts,” he snarled before beckoning her to leave with a flick of his wrist. It was a fantastic moment, and even more so as the recipient swiftly heeded the warning and scampered out of the room with her tail firmly tucked between her legs.
It wasn’t long before I was invited into Jack’s mobile home and clinking shot glasses, soon to be graced by the same heady journey I’d experienced with Julian Stolzenberg in a previous incarnation. When others were blessed with the same treatment I waited patiently at the end of the bar like Norm from Cheers, glancing over my shoulder sporadically so as not to lose my target. These moments provided a welcome respite from the action; watching the Barman potter around while occasionally serving shots to unwitting hands proved surprisingly cathartic and became a strategy I’d adopt for all future visits.
Jack’s story is one of claustrophobia; confined to a single floor and with the walls gradually closing in. There are early clues: a tiny noose in an apple, the letter of straws, the scarecrow in the church - as with most characters he’s a tortured soul, and when the Barman delivers a post-hoedown noose I’m led full circle to the Drugstore Girl scene from my prior visit and Jack’s emotional breakdown as he weeps once more to the dolorous melody of Santo and Johnny.
After his scene with Tuttle I retrace my steps and explore the locations where Jack once trod. The reception is a treasure trove: a book of torture, Romola’s eviction notice, a pamphlet promoting holidays in Panama, and an antiquated oven that looks suspiciously like a safe. I scavenged his trailer with similar zeal in search of more delights, finding giant chess pieces in the fridge and mysterious packages tucked neatly in a compartment under the bed. Then, as Dwayne ravished Mary against the saloon window, the lights in the trailer suddenly went out and I was forced to watch an overly familiar scene from a new, yet refreshing perspective.
Having confined myself to just one floor I decided to continue my journey in the desert. The inconspicuity of the Dust Witch combined with her wide berths had forced me to concede defeat for that particular 1:1, but the rewards that follow a more relaxed approach curiously struck again as I turned to find her stood directly in front of me within moments of arriving on the second floor. On a packed third loop, she held out her hand and invited me to enter into her dark and mysterious world.
Ever since catching The Exorcist at a premature age I’d always been petrified by a scary horror visual and so as the Dust Witch stood hunched before me in a bare room and reached for her veil I couldn’t help but picture the old hag that lurks at the back of the diner in Mulholland Drive. Fortunately, I was put at an immediate ease by the spooky, yet angelic face of Natalia De Miguel Olaso, who close comrades will know has become a firm favourite of mine. For the second time in the evening I was blindfolded and guided into an unknown room (not a usual Friday night for me, honest!), forced to place my trust into the performer’s hands as she whisked me frantically around the room. At times I wasn’t sure whether to stop or carry on running, and three words continually ran rampant in my head: “Don’t fall over. Don’t fall over.” Natalia would whisper delectably into my ear, her thick, slurring Spanish accent providing the perfect tone for her enigma of a character, before finally sending me on my way.
I left disorientated, and a little shaken, yet I’d felt comfortable in her presence, and after watching her a little closer in recent times it has quickly become apparent she’s to be embraced rather than feared. Her bathing of Dwayne, the anointment of Miguel, and her reaction to Mary’s murder all point to a figure of good rather than bad, a dark, inconspicuous creature that skulks amid the shadows, but one that is nevertheless the antithesis of Mr. Stanford. As Felix alluded to in the third and final talk, the second floor is representative of the supernatural, the heavens, while Stanford is more associated with the murky depths of hell. On a basic level, this is good versus evil, and the Dust Witch is the harbinger of the former. Jack, on the other hand… Well, I’m still not sure.
In which I meet three people who all need a very big hug
Show 10: 6 December
Show 10 is a bit of a surprise even to me. I happen to have no plans for the Friday, work is finishing at 4, and, oh look, there are lots of tickets left. Hmm. I'm already going on the Sunday but that's sold out, and it would be nice to have another night where I have a chance to get near the performers. By Thursday I can't hold out any longer and accidentally book myself a ticket.
I nearly get stuck at work but manage to get away and get myself near the front of the queue with a few regulars. I have to pick up tickets and dump my stuff in the cloakroom, so I only just make it into the first lift. I have plenty of time to examine the board while I wait to put in my coat. Sophie Bortolussi – someone I've meant to see for ages – is playing Wendy, Jesse Kovarsky is the grocer – he's always Marshall when I'm in – and David Essing is Badlands Jack. It also, strangely, mentions three, not two, executives - Mateo, Matthew and Jo.
One of my favourite moments of the show has become that moment once I'm through the maze, mask on, when Stanford's voice comes over the airwaves backed by the Perfume soundtrack. I like to close my eyes and just let Sam Booth's resonant voice wash over and through me, getting the pulse going and blood racing. Even just thinking about it makes me happy. This time, after the speech, the lift doors open and it's Conor Doyle! This is most unexpected. I'd been hoping to follow him as Frankie but he wasn't on the board at all. Something is clearly not right. He does the spiel, not quite as confidently as the other lift execs, and talks about his uncle, Mr Stanford. Surely that's Ace/Mateo's line... confusing.
I exit in the basement and run left and up the stairs, through the snow room, through the bedroom into the dressing room where I find the actors still chatting behind the scenes. Oops - I may have run up there a bit fast! I'm slowed down now though by the fact that for some inexplicable reason I can't find the exit for the woodchip caravan park. It's really quite obvious to even the most blind person but I'm strangely disoriented, and pass Paul's Fool twice, looking like a fool myself.
Eventually I make my way out, and find Sophie's Wendy dancing by the caravans with Marshall (Fionn). She glances up as I enter but doesn't miss a beat. I stand well back on the steps and to watch this dance, the only white mask in that huge space. Wendy looks troubled, upset even, and runs off to the trees. I've never seen her dance in the woods but it's beautiful and I'd happily watch it again and again. And today it's just for me. These are the TDM moments that can't be beaten. These are the moments why some of us weirdos are prepared to stand outside in the cold for 45 minutes before the doors even open, just to guarantee we get in the first lift.
By the time the dance has finished, and Stanford has given his instructions, we've been joined by one other white mask, who's standing well back. I've seen this moment with the scissors in the pool, but never noticed the lighting before, as the moon suddenly reveals what's in the water. The Fool is sitting well back, mouthing Stanford's instructions as he explains exactly what Wendy needs to do. He looks so sad for her.
After she stashes the scissors and puts on her watch, we're led into the bedroom by Kirsty Arnold's PA, to find Marshall's jumper and then the man himself. And I know to stand well back this time – so I don't get in the way again as they dance. It's so athletic and beautiful as they throw each other around the room. I love it when dance takes over from a script like this – the words become unnecessary. It's entirely clear what is going on.
At Studio 5 I stand well back as I always do in there, to allow me to leave when they do, and as well as watching the infidelity dance, I also watch the Doctor (Rob) and Claude (River) come in. Claude is on his own for some reason (idiot white masks – don't you know??). He doesn't watch from the side, as I did with David's Claude, but puts himself centre stage for the best view.
The scene after this one, in the dressing room with Wendy and Andrea, is as close as I've ever got to crying beneath my mask. Sophie gives one of the most devastating performances I've seen in Temple Studios – the way she crumples, thinking about Marshall's infidelity. She's not even hallucinating at this point – it's just genuine human misery at the knowledge, or at least fair assumption, that he's not been faithful.
But as she starts to get herself ready for the party, putting on her dress and tidying her hair, the mood changes completely and excitement starts to build. She's going to be hanging out with all the bigwigs downstairs. She runs excitedly down the stairs, twirling in the pools of light along the corridors. Having seen her mood changes up to this point, her horror at what she sees when in there is even more heartbreaking. The hysteria is understandable, and for the first time I realise that it's this that pulls Andrea out of her drug-induced torpor and makes her drag Wendy out of there.
By the time she sets off for the murder, Sophie's Wendy seems to have completely dispensed with her demons. She's determined, jaw set. She knows exactly what she has to do, although seeing Marshall again makes her lose focus a little. And the way up the hill to the murder is more slidey than I remember it being. Marshall keeps losing his footing as he tries to climb the hill, which makes the whole thing even more tense. And it's not as if I haven't seen this one scene at least 12-13 times now, so the fact that it still has the power to scare/move me is impressive. Although Wendy is obviously upset by what she's about to do, she somehow looks at her calmest – as if she's given in to her destiny. Marshall on the other hand looks very nervous.
The full horror of what she's done hits her after the murder though. Like William, she really loses her mind, thinking she sees Marshall/Marshalline (presumably depending on whether she finds a man or woman in the crowd). She runs upstairs manically, making bloody hand prints as she goes. At the top she opens the doors and furiously (but totally in character) turns to say 'sssh', and I realise that two idiots behind us are chatting to each other. I hadn't even noticed, I was so absorbed.
And it's the first time I've seen the William mirroring scene through the gates from this side. She takes Mary's negligee from William and uses it to wipe off the blood from her arms and face and, I think, drops it there, before running down to the snow room for her reset, where Andrea is waiting for her, ready to film a scene. This is an entirely new scene for me. The seamstress helps Wendy change into her outfit, and gets rid of any last remaining spots of blood. This is clearly the equivalent scene to William's table dance, and Wendy is already having visions, seeing the ghosts around her. She stares straight at me and tries to get Andrea to see me and the other masks, to no avail.
I love the dance that they both do on the snow hill, Wendy still trying to get Andrea to see her hallucinations – us. I can't really believe I've never seen this before. It feels crazy that it's taken me till my 11th show to see the start of both Wendy and Andrea's loops.
Next scene is Dolores' party. I watch from the steps, having seen it before, and wanting a different point of view. To be honest there are so many people around the tent that I can barely see anything other than Jesse's grocer cavorting around in a dress and wig, so instead I watch the doctor (Rob) dancing creepily just behind me with a nervous-looking white mask, and Andrea (Fania) dancing beautifully on the caravans and sofa with cigarette in hand.
Wendy leaves the party alone, and heads back in the direction of the dressing room, closely followed by the doctor, who catches up with her and gives her an on-the-spot eye check. What is it about eyes in this place? They head upstairs separately, but both ending up in the examination room. I take a seat and watch – and although I've seen it before, from the cinema with Stanford and from the doorway with Alice, watching Wendy stand there topless and unprotected, it feels creepier and pervier than William's equivalent scene. Especially once Stanford appears. I've never felt more like a voyeur.
I know I've more or less caught up with Wendy's loop now, so I decide to stick with the doctor, and let the crowds follow her out.
Rob's doctor is really scary. Very intense and determined. He completely ignores me sitting in my chair, and tries to take off one of the white masks at the back of the room for a 1:1. She looks terrified and backs away, but he keeps on walking towards her, never dropping his gaze, and she escapes through the door into the seamstress' room, pushing the people ahead of her in her panic to get out. Now's my chance! But no, he finds the only other white mask in the room. Ok. Well fair enough. I'll wait. I explore his office, which I've never really been into, and read the various medical notes on people who've done the Rorschach test, and what their answers mean about their psyche. He certainly doesn't mince his words.
After about five minutes I hear his door open, and he walks into his office. The white mask doesn't follow him so it's just me and him. He walks out towards Studio 5, and stands menacingly behind Faye as she flirts with Dwayne. We head to the stairwell, and suddenly he races away from me, up the stairs. This is a surprise – I had no idea the doctor ever went to the desert. I try to keep up with him, but I get the feeling he's trying to escape me (hopefully it's not personal), and when I get to the door and my eyes adjust to the darkness, sure enough I see him disappearing backstage. Ah well. I guess I'll give up on the doctor then.
I've wanted to see Jesse's grocer for ages as apparently he's very different from the others. When I get downstairs there's no one in there so I stand at the door and wait, watching the masks and characters pass by on the street. When the 1:1's over, it's Mario Ruiz who comes out, and another couple of minutes later, out comes Eugene, and I'm the only one waiting for him.
Jesse, in my opinion, is the most moving of the grocers I've seen – a proper heartstring tugger. His confusion at what's going on and misery at being stuck in a loop are so sad. And, at least at first, Drugstore Girl (Isabelle) appears to have very little sympathy (or perhaps understanding) for what's happening to him.
I love watching all his little moments and reactions. After handing back the napkin dispenser with the script page hidden within it, his face as he watches DG's reaction through the window is so hopeful and yet so uncertain of what he's expecting to actually happen. I don't see what she does but he seems vaguely satisfied with the result, and when he gets back to the shop he writes himself a note to say that the girl is important.
Suddenly he looks at me, finds the key around his neck, drops it, unlocks the door and only then extends his hand to me for the 1:1.
When I'm let back out again, I wait in the doorway once more. Last time I'd left at this point, not sure there was anything more to see. Eugene looks broken when he finally exits. He spends the next five minutes pottering around the shop, dusting, cleaning, tidying, and suddenly I realise he's crying and oh god, I can't bear it. I sit on the windowsill and watch from a distance, but really I just want to give him a big hug and tell him it's going to be ok. At one point he hands me his cloth and holds out one of the tins of peas to polish. I'm happy to help, but to be honest I do a pretty shoddy job of it. He says it's perfect though, and I feel inordinately pleased.
And it's time to finish this thing so we head to the drugstore.
Andy's in there when he arrives, so he stands outside, waiting patiently for him to leave. When he does, he goes in and sits himself down at the table, his script with him, ready to go through the ritual of what's written there. DG seems aware that something bad is going to happen – at one point she panics and runs away. But eventually they make it to the inevitable sad, and somewhat shocking, ending.
He's obviously horrified, although having read the script he knew this would happen. But he seems to expect the ensuing changes to be immediate – maybe some big bang/puff of smoke, or maybe Alice will arrive and tell him it's all over and he can go back to his old self. But nothing. So he picks DG up and takes her back to the table, heading back to the shop, deflated.
But once there, it seems that things have changed after all, and it's time to head excitedly downstairs to the party. So this is where I leave him.
I'm right next door to Badlands Jack's motel reception, so I head straight there. There's no sign of Badlands yet. I wait in the doorway and it's not long before he arrives with a small crowd. The nice thing about BLJ is that although he picks up crowds of people along the way, he's also very static much of the time, so most get bored and give up on him. More fool them, but it gives those of us prepared to stick with him plenty of space.
I followed Adam Burton's Badlands way back when, before I even knew who Adam Burton was, and the loop has changed a lot since then, plus David has a very different take on the character. The character has always been a loner, watching the others while hidden behind walls and boxes, but David's interpretation is particularly in love with Drugstore Girl, who is both his reason for living and for certain suicidal tendencies. He's less out and out nasty – there wasn't a lot to like about Adam's Jack, other than the fact that he was played by Adam. Whereas David's Badlands is so elegant and beautiful and lonely and ultimately likeable, despite being someone who occasionally behaves like a bit of an arsehole.
David's first scene is far busier than Adam's was... spying on William and Mary through binoculars, trying to make a phonecall (but his phone's dead), trying to use the grocer's phone... and then spying on Faye (Miranda), Mary (Laure) and Dwayne (Vini) as they dance. But despite the extra action added to the role, we still lose most of the white masks to what's happening in front of us. I wonder if this is intentional – that Badlands is at least in part there to direct others to the action and the bigger characters. Much like the Fool. I can't help but feel sorry for him. It must be a very lonely existence, watching everyone and never interacting.
The saddlery seems to be the perfect spot for him to watch Drugstore Girl. In his frustration at not being noticed he dances, pushing himself violently between the wall and the counter and at one point ending up on his back on the counter, swinging the light above him. Some idiot white masks try to get past while he's slamming against the wall and nearly get slammed themselves, although there would be worse places to be than trapped against a wall by David Essing.
He eats an apple – I'm not sure where it comes from. When it's nearly finished he pulls something out of his mouth. It's a mini hangman's noose, the sight of which terrifies him (as it would anyone who found that in an apple to be fair) and he grabs his neck. He holds out his hand to me. I take it and he turns my hand over and puts the still soggy noose into it. I'm delighted but also a little bit eeurgh.
And we're moving again, to Romola's caravan, via the reception. He bangs loudly on the caravan window, making two white masks snooping in there jump out of their skins. I spot a dancing Miguel (Ed Warner) coming elven-like through the trees, and he suddenly appears by the mossy caravan and hands BLJ a familiar-looking package – another piece of the puzzle of Romola's package falling into place. We head off towards BLJ's trailer and he opens the door and holds his hand out to me. This is the first time I've ever had the same 1:1 with the same actor (last time with David had been by mistake when I'd pretty much just walked into it) but I don't want to say no, so I take his hand and manage to step on his foot as I go in the caravan, picking up my foot immediately as if I've just trodden on a hot coal. Luckily he doesn't seem to limp after this so I don't think I've inflicted any lasting damage. I sit straight down on the bed, somewhat embarrassed.
After he lets me out of the 1:1 door I run back around to the trailer entrance again via the saddlery and wait on the armchair outside, slightly nervous I've missed him. But I'm fairly sure I can hear him pottering in there, and sure enough after a few minutes he exits with the package in hand.
After a small altercation with Andy and William, we drop the package off with the guard and Badlands pulls the gates shut behind him. I nearly get caught on the wrong side, and skip quickly to his side. After this he clearly feels brave enough to go to the drugstore, but, as I found out last time, this doesn't exactly go to plan. His 'friend' Andy seems to have got in there first.
This upset calls for regular swigs from his flask. Last time I missed the whole Andy rivalry thing when I lost him after the 1:1, but so much more makes sense now, including their unpleasant drunken encounter in the woods and chapel.
I wait for him during his second 1:1, watching Andy dancing in (and on) the bar. I love this moment, so I stand and watch from the arch as all the rest of the characters slowly drift in and dance with each other. After a few minutes, Badlands comes through, ready to dance. It's the second time I've specifically watched the character at the hoedown, but I don't remember seeing him quite so upset when he sees that Drugstore Girl only has eyes for Andy.
I stand next to him as he slumps at the bar at the back, downing the remainder of his hip flask. It's really sad, watching him grow tearful and maudlin, collapsing in a drunken heap. Much like the grocer, I just want to give him a big comforting hug. The barman (François) wakes him with another parcel, similarly shaped to the last but far larger, which scares him, and a shot of whiskey (which I'm sure smelled of the real stuff – maybe they're allowed a drop on the final loop).
From this point on he's just a drunken mess, staggering around, feeling sorry for himself and going on to his inevitable end in the chesspiece room. He passes out in the motel and wakes up dreaming of being hanged, then opens the package in the drugstore and finds the full-sized hangman's noose.
The chesspiece room is really not brilliantly designed for watching what is quite an important dramatic moment for both Badlands Jack and Tuttle (James). I stand in the doorway, but can't help worrying that I'm blocking the view for everyone behind me so miss much of the action trying to get out of the way.
I do, however, catch Tuttle ending up with the noose round his neck, and Badlands runs straight out of the door, distraught, and down the stairs. I'm close behind him, and when he reaches the ground floor he puts his hand out to the side, not even looking at me, knowing that I'll take it.
We walk and run to watch the murder. He's shaking, still upset by what's just happened, and now having to watch someone being murdered. He holds my arms, and when Wendy and Marshall reach the top of the hill he gathers my hands and hugs me underneath my bent arms, gripping tightly, which gives him a bit of purchase to lift me almost off my feet as she stabs him and drops Marshall into his grave. I feel a bit sorry for him – I'm not exactly light.
When Stanford's voice appears overhead telling us it's a wrap, Jack's suddenly so relieved. It's just a movie!! It's actually really moving seeing his delight at the horror being over. He takes me to what he tells me is a good spot and leaves me to join the party, returning to find me afterwards to take me to the bar. At the bar entrance he tries to dance with me, and I don't even realise that's what's happening – until he makes it very clear, lifting his arm right up and almost pushing me round. It's very awkward to dance, entirely sober, with such an elegant man. Clearly my weekly dance classes haven't improved my abilities that much.
I leave on my usual high though, despite the huge queue for the cloakroom. And I'm back again on Sunday!
In which I meet two tortured (and slightly psycho) men
Show 9 - 23 November
I've had a month off from The Drowned Man. It's been tough but necessary. I managed to stay off the spoilers group for more than two weeks (to the surprise of many, including myself) and rejoined again when I started to feel sane once more. The break wasn't a real break – I was still on Tumblr writing up shows, on Twitter following various cast members' and spoilers group friends' exploits and on Facebook chatting to those people I am friends with most days. But somehow it's enough to have a four-week break from the show and a two-week break from the group. And my brain feels like it's almost back to normal again. 'Almost'.
This trip has been planned for a while. I'm meeting Kate West and her sister Anna, who I've been talking to on the group more or less since I first joined. There are strict rules where Kate's concerned when it comes to queuing, so we're standing alone in the cold outside the big red doors an hour before the doors open, joined not long after by Peter Williams, another spoilers group regular.
For me this show is an odd one in that I've pretty much planned it out already. I've heard that David Essing is playing Claude, and I've been meaning to follow him for weeks – he was Claude that first time and so will always be my Claude. Mateo Oxley has also mentioned on Facebook that he's playing Tuttle – and as I've never seen his Tuttle and it's about time someone actually followed a full Tuttle loop, I plan to do the final one.
We are of course in the first lift and I race out in the basement and up to the ground floor dressing room. And Claude and Dolores (Sarah Dowling) are sitting there as if waiting for me. I watch the creepy trolley spin and then follow Claude out and upstairs to Studio 5.
Frankie (Owen) is waiting for us in there, all alone, and Alice (Jane Leaney) comes in straight after us. And I'm the only white mask there for the entire scene. I can't quite believe my luck. I keep checking behind me, thinking someone must have walked in by now to discover us, but no. I hug myself happily – probably looking a bit idiotic. And there's certainly no drop in energy for the fact that they're performing to a one-person audience. We all leave the room together. I somehow end up second out of the four of us (desperate not to lose Claude), and hold the door open for Alice as we get to the stairwell. Talk about feeling as though I'm actually part of the story. No wonder it's hard to leave Temple Studios behind when I leave.
We go down into a little office where Claude changes for the initiation. He talks to me as he dresses about Frankie and his plans for him, and we leave together, him barefoot with the terrifying full mask on – one masked person following another. Once in there, it looks as though Mr Stanford (Sam) hasn't had a 1:1 (or maybe the 1:1 person didn't stick with him) as he doesn't look back at anyone when he gives Frankie his orange slice.
I leave with Claude, again the only one, despite the crowds that have built slowly during the initiation. He hands me his jacket to carry for him and takes it back from me when we're in the office. He continues his chat, acting as if I'm his PA – telling me to cancel appointments, and that Lila Gilderoy is going to be starting her new job in the studio.
Once dressed, we head upstairs to Studio 5 via the boardroom. I'm still alone with him. A few people join us as he climbs up on the boardroom table. David is such a beautiful mover – every step, every gesture is elegant. My dance teacher would say he has lovely lines – and that's just when he's walking. As a dancer, he's mesmerising. I spend a lot of time just happily admiring – especially his Frankie worship dance. He hands me a tiny version of Frank, folds my hand over it and kisses my fingers, and what they're holding.
We're alone again in Studio 5 for the Infidelity Ballet – or rather the room is busy, but everyone else is watching the dance rather than Claude – and we watch from the door at first. He has eyes only for Frankie. And then we head round the back (past a shrine to Mary that I'd never seen before) to watch Andrea's stage from the side. He pulls me over so I can see what's happening and stands close behind me, whispering in my ear about how brilliant it is.
I'd forgotten Frankie being upset by Claude's attention – in my head he was just as keen, but it's clear that's not the case as Claude chases him downstairs towards the orgy, trying to kiss him, while Frankie tries to get free. In the temple I place myself behind Stanford. I want the wheelchair stare again – it's creepy and horrible and brilliant. And as it's first loop, it's just me standing there and I get its full force.
I'd also forgotten the moment after the orgy when Claude is effectively beaten up by Frankie. And it shows a very different side to the man. From a distance he seems very detached from everything, much like Alice, and yet he does have a heart – he clearly actually loves Frankie. And, as in the moment with Stanford and Lila, it becomes clear that Claude is also working to a script like everyone else, except Frankie seems to have gone off book and is not doing what he was supposed to do – which supposedly is to fall in love with Claude. Or is that just Claude's own script? Does the studio have different plans for each of them?
And we go upstairs through the snowroom just as Andrea (Kirsty Arnold) comes running in for her tortured end-of-loop dance. And I realise that while she's dancing manically up and down the snowdrift, Claude is hidden in the little room – I occasionally catch sight of the shadow of his hand, looking as though he is controlling her like a puppet, as she shudders and cries and slides down the slope. Spooky. I'd forgotten that he was there at all (did I even know that? I think Omar's Fool may play it very differently – I'm sure he carried her out when I followed him. But François' Fool is nowhere to be seen). In this version it's Claude who carries her back to her space in time for the reset.
He tidies his hair in the mirror and picks up a basket of flowers from by the Fool's spot. We head upstairs.
And this is where the crowds have been. Alice seems to have picked up an enormous following after the murder, and the reception is packed out. Claude brings along a small group of us and we squeeze in. I don't mind too much though, as I've seen this scene and the following two audition scenes before, and I've spent the last 40-odd minutes more or less on my own with him. I hadn't realised till now that Faye and Andrea's auditions were literally one after the other. In between auditions Claude whispers to people. He gets one girl to do a twirl. When she doesn't respond the first time, he motions at her again to do it properly.
And then it's back to the dressing room, and it's time for me to leave Claude, after one very last 'eye examination'.
I need the loo and decide to head to the desert. Walking up the stairs though, I pass Mr Stanford, completely on his own. This is an unexpected, I would say even unprecedented, event. This is halfway through the second loop – why is no one following him? Do they not know??? I debate very seriously with the idea of ignoring my bladder and following him alone downstairs to what should be his 1:1, but my body tells me no and I walk upstairs reluctantly to the desert loos.
When I come back downstairs the bar is empty apart from one other white mask sitting there, and I need a sit-down and maybe a drink before I visit Tuttle. So I sit at the bar while barman Jude reads his newspaper. When the other white mask heads off, I'm offered my shot and I down it and slam the glass back on the bar as Ygal has taught me.
It's time to move on, for both of us apparently. I stand aside at the saddlery to let him through and wander off to find the seamstress or doctor. But both are so busy that I change my mind. I watch William's examination with the crowds but give up after that and head out via the studio (and the chess room behind the boardroom, which I've never seen before) and into the street, turning left towards the fountain.
At that exact moment Mr Tuttle and another big crowd walk past me, on their way to do a bit of wall defacing. So I tag along and stand back, watching him graffiti the wall with his hands and some red paint – no paintbrush necessary apparently. Suddenly there's a clap of thunder, disturbing him, the guard’s torch lights up the wall, and Mr Tuttle runs and most of us run after him, back to the fountain to wash the blood/paint off.
He suddenly looks at me, grabs my hand and takes me into the shop, locking the door behind him. He giggles to himself, and crawls under the counter, not bothering to lift up the flap. I look under there at him and he beckons to me to join him. The 1:1 is different from the last time I had it – maybe this is down to Mateo or maybe it's changed for everyone. Anyway, once it's over, he lets me out of the door, and stands and watches as I head back through the back of the saddlery, and straight round to his shop. I'm back at the front door before he's opened up again.
He's pottering around in the shop when he suddenly realises something is going on outside and rushes out to the chesspiece room. A small crowd is gathered outside, and Tuttle pushes through them. I can just make out Badlands Jack (Nico) looking as though he's trying to hang himself in there, but try as I may I can't make out what the hell is going on between the two of them, as there are too many people in the way. Badlands comes rushing out, and Tuttle comes out more slowly, looking very shaken and heads back to the shop.
Mr Tuttle is a funny character. The three actors play him very differently. Mateo in real life, and as Ace, does not look creepy or scary at all in the slightest – and yet as Tuttle he's definitely found his inner psycho. And yet, like Claude, he's got a heart too under all that outward psychotic behaviour, and you can't help but feel a bit sorry for him. He's a bit OCD and has a very deep belief in signs and symbols – he feels that the stars and the cards will help change things, and that if he does things in the right order and right place, then maybe this time it'll work. He spends a lot of his time just watching people, as Badlands Jack does (although they're very different characters), and like BJ he's also an outsider. He doesn't seem to have any friends, other than perhaps the never-there psychic. But he's in love with Faye – he moons over her at every opportunity and hates Dwayne with a passion. Every time Dwayne is around he's muttering about what a big-headed idiot he is, who thinks he can dance.
Much of his loop is quite static and so it's hard to remember the exact order of events, but I remember bits and pieces. He watches Dwayne dance with Faye and Mary, muttering angrily; he tries to talk to a somewhat violent Conrad; he's visited by Lila, Romola and the seamstress... Lila is innocently conned into buying a little doll, Romola is a bit disturbed by his tiny red replica car... He plays with it when she leaves and drives it off the counter/canyon. I make the decision not to pick it up, although I worry my mum would be unimpressed with my unhelpfulness...
We leave the shop once to visit the psychic shop – she/he, whoever they might be, seems to be a friend. Someone else who believes in what the signs portend...
He paints pictures of moons and hearts (for Faye) with his blood-red paint, which he seems to have a taste for. A couple of times he stands outside and makes notes of what he sees in the stars or the weather – maybe he can read something there.
He does two 1:1s in the final loop that I watch (although apparently there are sometimes three, even four). I make sure I'm standing by the door when it looks as though they're about to happen so it's easy for him to kick me out. I actually find I quite enjoy just sitting on the bench opposite the saddlery and watching everyone pass me by.
When Harry Greener ends up drunk outside the shop, Tuttle turns to a list he's made of people – possibly people in the town who can help with his plans? One name has already been crossed out with blood/paint. He passes me the book and a little tin of paint. I check what he wants me to do, dip my finger in the paint and cross off Harry's name. He's no use to Tuttle any more. I follow his lead and lick off the blood – it tastes of very little.
We head off for a bit of a graffiti action again and I stick with him because I want to see what actually happens with Badlands Jack later if I can. There's another 1:1 first, which is perfectly timed to coincide with William and Andy at the fountain – it's never a chore to watch Paul and Rob dance...
And this time, after the 1:1, I manage to get a spot inside the chess piece room to actually watch the moment with the hanging. And it ends in a huge, dancey struggle, with Tuttle finishing up exhausted with a noose around his neck.
He stretches his hand out to me, and we run downstairs, ending up right around the side of the murder for a completely different viewpoint from the usual. He deposits me on the stairs, stage left, for the finale. Claude recognises me during the party and asks if I'm enjoying myself. And then it's the end, and Tuttle comes back for me, and we run off to the mirror maze and through to the middle. He puts me in front of a mirror and takes my mask off from behind, handing it to me before running back out, laughing. I try to leave from the other exit, and take forever to get out – he comes back to check on me, laughs and runs off. Harrumph.
In which the red string makes its first appearance
SHOW 7 - 25 October
Today is a special day. Today I am finally going to meet a group of people I've been talking to online for the last four months. The Facebook spoilers group has become a huge part of my life, to the extent that after Show 8 I decide to give myself a break from it as I am becoming a horribly needy person, desperate to read and comment on each post.
But today, Friday 25 October, I'm very excited. Possibly even more excited about meeting everyone than I am about actually seeing the show – I've decided to go again on Sunday on my own, so that there's no pressure to see or do anything specific on group day. 'Event planner' Hannah has organised everything, and I've arranged to meet most people first in the Sawyers Arms – the unofficial pre- and post-show local pub. I've even taken a half-day off work for the occasion.
I'm in the pub from about 2pm, having my lunch, waiting for the gang to arrive. And when they do it's lovely. Just having the chance to hang out with people who feel the same way as I do about a show that has affected me in a way that no other production (or book or film or TV show or work of art) ever has. It feels as if we all know each other already. Miles has been being rude to Hannah for the last couple of months despite never having met her, we've all been helping Aaron put his floorplans together... We're already a gang. I do already know Kaytie and Bronia, but they're the only ones. Hannah has her ball of red wool prepared and goes round the group, winding it around one wrist – it's a subtle but appropriate sign of the group. Red string is an important symbol within Temple Studios as well as within its source text, Woyzeck.
Much to Hannah's dismay, we don't end up leaving the pub until just before 4.30, and the queue is already huge! To be fair everyone in front of us is part of one big school group, but it's still a surprise to us all that we're not going to be in the first lift. That was not part of the plan. We're all split up in the queue inside, too, owing to tickets needing to be picked up and bags stashed in the cloakroom. But we make it into the fourth lift (I assume, as we have the female exec), and I manage to get out in the basement and run up to the ground floor.
I've decided that today is definitely a day of not pursuing 1:1s, although the grocer would be nice. I'm on the hunt for Wendy, whose loop I've totally managed to miss so far (along with the other three Woyzeck characters in the female storyline) – and, as with William and his gang, you have to follow them in the first loop before you lose them in a sea of white masks. I run out of the lift in the basement, accidentally barging past the PA, who's watching Marshall and Dolores from the door, try to imply my apology (which is hard from behind a mask), and head out to the woodchip caravan park, where Wendy (Sara Black – who looks remarkably like one of my best friends) is retrieving the scissors, overlooked by the Fool (François Testory).
It's just me and her as she hides the scissors in the dressing room before we're joined by Andrea (Fania Grigoriou). And then the sneaky PA beckons us into the bedroom to let Wendy see the proof of Marshall's infidelity, and I'm lost in admiration as I watch Wendy and Marshall dance around the bedroom – throwing each other against the walls. I'm so lost in admiration that at one point I end up right in their path with no time to move out of the way, but this doesn't worry them, and they run hand in hand towards me, and let go just as their hands hit me, running their hands around my body before joining up again on the other side. It's an amazing moment – how I would imagine it feels to have a ghost go through you, if such a thing were possible. But from then on I stick closely to the walls out of their way.
I stay well back for Wendy – I know there's no 1:1, and I know so little of her loop that I don't want to get in the way again if she dances. And for the infidelity ballet I know to stay back to watch it all so I don't lose her on the way out. And then we're on to the orgy. And I'm watching it for the first time from her point of view, coming in late and excited to be at this party full of top studio executives. Until she sees her boyfriend being passed around and ending up naked with Dolores, all while Alice and Stanford watch closely and excitedly for Wendy's reaction.
After she's retrieved the scissors and taken Marshall up the hill, I hang back – I've seen this scene so many times. And I'm determined to see Dolores' birthday party for the first time. So I sit myself down by the tent, and wait, quite happy to watch the white masks wandering around, and actors passing in the distance.
After about five minutes Eugene (Jude) arrives followed by a small crowd, and starts to set up for the party, getting his outfit out of the bag and putting it over a chair, and putting the champagne glasses and chairs in order. One of his bra-stuffing scarves falls off the chair and I'm put in such a dilemma. Do I put it back on the chair to help him? What if it was meant to fall off? Is that even possible? I make the decision to do it and then stand there wishing I hadn't. Obviously it's all fine.
When the party's over, and Eugene has been given his script, he heads upstairs, followed by a large crowd. After some sorting out, he ignores both me and the girl next to me, who had been there from the start and was clearly hoping for a 1:1, and picks a girl standing quietly by the window. She looks surprised but takes his hand. I'm in a waiting mood today – especially as everyone else has given up on him – so I sit myself down on his stepladder. The grocer is a bit of an enigma to me. I don't know what happens after this 1:1.
It doesn't take long before they're both out of the room. I've actually seen this bit before, with the drugstore girl – and it would seem that last time Julian was studiously ignoring both white masks in his shop, as I must have been there in perfect time for the 1:1.
And then, it's my turn to have an unexpected 1:1 – and it is a good one. How many of these does he do? He doesn't follow me out afterwards but locks the door behind me, and I'm not sure if this is a signal that there is no point waiting around for him as this is all that happens. So I leave. I still don't feel as though I really know the grocer. I guess I'll have to wait for Jesse's next time, and see whether there's more to discover in the second half of his loop.
I think that at this point I wander off and find Badlands Jack (David Essing) making a noose in the saddlery so I pop in to watch him, and follow him into the bar, where he gets an envelope from the barman. And I decide I want to relax in there for a bit, just watching stuff happen. I sit myself on a stool and watch the barman (Ygal) give a guy on the other side a shot of whisky. There's not much happening on my side, so I take a table in the hoedown side, and watch Ygal slowly sweep the floor, and then go over to the bar. So I follow him and sit myself at the bar, watching him clean glasses. He offers me a shot and I accept, downing what is actually very strong whisky, which surprises me. He tells me to slam the glass down on the bar afterwards – you've got to learn the rules...
As I watch William (Omar) running through the bar, taking a frightened Mary (Laure) to the desert, I realise that Faye (Sonya, I think) is on the other side singing 'Walking in the Sand'. Amazing to see these scenes from an entirely different perspective.
Badlands Jack now comes in very upset and I follow him, as I'm intrigued by David's different interpretation. But then it's me who he takes into his caravan for the 1:1. I feel a bit cheeky as I've stolen it from those people following him. But what the hell. And I like this different BJ – he's more tortured than others I've seen, and less of a bully. I have another very full shot, spilling it all over my lap. I'm feeling a little tipsy now, especially as I also had a glass of red before coming in.
After I'm let out I head to the seamstress' shop, waiting outside for Frankie to leave. When he does I go in to wait for Conrad, so I can catch the bit of the loop I missed last time. And a guy in there starts chatting to me – he's obviously a bit terrified. I try not to talk – and signal that he should go through the clothing maze, but he gets the fear in the dark and is back out again very quickly. I tell him to be brave, just as Conrad enters, but it's Owen and I really want to see the start of Adam's loop, so I leave him to it.
And I find Dwayne (Vinicius) dancing with Faye and Mary, and Hannah's there, watching one of her favourites. I lean against a post on the bandstand and watch the brilliant dancing and decide to follow him back into the bar after the girls leave. He dances on the bar as Harry sings – a completely different interpretation from when I've seen Oliver do the same scene.
I sit watching happily on the other side of the bar as Conrad, William and Mary all come in. And while I'm watching them, an arm suddenly comes round my neck for a hug – and I think that's a bit much from the spoilers group gang, I barely know them, until I register that it's Dwayne. He stands up against me writing notes to Mary – making sure I can see exactly what he's doing. It's a really lovely unexpected moment.
I head downstairs to Studio 3. Hannah has told me this is a good time to get the 2:1 so I figure why not get a drink at the same time. This evening is just so much more relaxed for me than previous shows – and I don't mind taking myself away from the main action for a while, especially as I'm back in on Sunday. Gillian's already there with a drink. I take the opportunity to explore the mirror maze, as I've never been in there before – and also end up discovering, by mistake, the opium den where we're all meeting later.
I sit myself down with a drink, and we're joined by Hannah and then Adam, whose face and mask have been somehow thoroughly Tuttled. We watch Conrad and Andrea do their trick and Fania waves at us on the way out, then Ace and Lexie (?) have a couple of songs that are new to me, and then Harry. And then we're ushered out with no 2:1 – I was too late apparently.
Not too worried by this, I place myself on the steps in a good position for the finale, but Ace/Mateo spots me standing there and grabs me to take me to the murder. I can hardly argue with him, so we watch it together at the front. And when he appears to be heading back without me, I grab his hand – I don't want to be stuck at the back after having got myself in a good position. So he takes me through the crowd back to the stage, and I end up right next to Kaytie.
My lovely evening ends with a lovely walk-out from the lovely Badlands Jack (well the lovely David Essing anyway)... It's been an odd one, but a good one. And I've actually managed to get myself a bit drunk on my two glasses of wine and two shots. Time to go and drink more alcohol with the gang.
“Sit Down,” commanded Alice abruptly. I smiled surreptitiously. This could be fun. But then she served me a wicked stare and the mood suddenly changed. My muscles tensed and the hairs on my nape stood upright, like a cat forced onto the tip of its paws by the unexpected sight of a nearby pit bull. She turned to face the wall, silent, her arms dangling and her dress unzipped. A second piercing glance over her shoulder sparked me into action.
My record of handling female garments from this position is not good, and I displayed no signs of improvement here as the zip jammed halfway up. I toggled anxiously, my grip loosening, and then exhaled with relief as I completed the home straight. She sized me up and down, held out my arm and then sniffed the surface of my skin like Hannibal Lecter preparing his next meal. She clasped my shoulders, flung me round and pushed me aggressively against the wall, moving her face uncomfortably close to mine and sharing a tale I simply can’t recall.
On exit Alice didn’t echo the cautionary words of The Fool; instead, she teased me like a cat holding the tail of a mouse. She offered my mask, and then retracted when I advanced. I pondered my breaking point: am I credulous enough to become lost in an endless cycle of bullying? On the fourth occasion she smiled devilishly and allowed me to retrieve my anonymity. As she shoved me out of the door and slammed it behind me, I stood frozen, trembling slightly, and wondering what the fuck had just happened. In a bizarre yet terrifying way… I felt ‘dealt with’.
This was turning out to be an exhilarating night.
I’d approached my eighth visit with reservation, worried that my proclivity for snaking into Temple Studios and donning a white mask would become exhausted, and scenes trite and platitudinous as I inevitably retread old ground. Yet my concerns would prove unwarranted as I witnessed a plethora of fresh encounters and exchanges, and found a hidden layer in those I’d already seen. On this visit I truly learned the depth, detail and enormity of the show and realised that it’s not until you’ve been a number of times that you start to look beyond the surface and unearth the many secrets The Drowned Man has to offer.
I commenced my journey with Claude, played to camp, yet menacing perfection by the talented David Essing. He and Alice were lurking suspiciously in Studio 5, sans audience, and in a scene that was absent as the loop later lapped its own tail. Over time we formed a connection, a love-hate relationship as he both embraced and deplored my company. It was an emotional roller coaster. One moment he’d hold me tightly, with warmth almost, and express his admiration for Frankie, but then later furiously tear his picture apart in front of my face as if I were somehow to blame for his failed quest. But beyond the fury you couldn’t help but pity Claude and share his sorrow; and that’s what made his journey such an engrossing one. Like many of the studio’s inhabitants, he’s a tortured soul.
As has become a staple of my battle plan I spent the remainder of the loop exploring my surroundings, wondering aimlessly and allowing chance and serendipity to guide my path. I stumbled upon the Doctor as he left his office. Filled with curiosity I pursued him down to the first floor where he watched the conclusion of the birthday party from the stage. He tapped his watch ominously and then whispered serpent-like in my ear: “There she is. Humiliating herself in front of everyone.” The Doctor’s a fascinating character: taciturn, yet purposeful and calculating, he’s compulsive viewing and a stark reminder of the influence of light. Characters are attracted to light like moths, often stopping mid-stride to soak in the rays, yet the Doctor uses light to repel and intimidate. His torch is a tool for chiaroscuro, creating dramatic imagery and illuminating characters when they are at an emotional low and suffused in darkness. He uses it as a precursor for events to follow, almost pulling characters towards him as it beams against a door that is about to open. As Dolores stumbles towards the medical room the spotlight follows her incessantly, yet this time she’s reluctant, crashing against the walls and unnerved by the attention. It’s one of my favourite scenes.
I spent a regrettable time stalking the Dust Witch, lured by the proposition of a 1:1. I stayed in close quarters when she moved through the shadows yet kept my distance during pivotal scenes so as not to ruin the visual for others. On her travels she’s like a slug in treacle, trudging meticulously through the desert and my avid persistence of such a leisurely character took me out of the story. I was almost relieved when I was denied the 1:1, perhaps preferring to return another time with a more mature approach, one that focused on investing in the character and then embracing any delights of exclusive interaction as a bonus and appendix to the story.
Returning to a mantra of happenstance I made my way through town before my inner child pulled me into the Seamstress’ maze for the umpteenth time to flail my arms against the hanging material and blindly navigate my way through to the other side. As I emerged, the Seamstress invited me to help seal Romola’s fate by adding bruises and a bloody nose to her chart. I then watched with a mixture of shame and culpability as Romola modelled my design. As the crowd followed Romola towards her pending doom I remained with the Seamstress, who grabbed a nearby rose and led me to the wig room. The 1:1 was intense and unexpected, yet once again the story might as well have been in Chinese as I locked eyes with Laure Bachelot and fell into a momentary trance, bewitched by the meeting stare that is so uncommon in everyday life. I felt hypnotised, like Mowgli being charmed by Kaa, and it wasn’t until she handed back my mask that I finally awoke from my slumber.
“We have to hurry,” she urged. “We don’t want to miss the wrap-party.” We raced at full pelt down the stairs and onto the stage to witness the murder just in the nick of time. As the roses soared through the air, she positioned me on a crate in front of the trailer and parted with the words: “This is the best place to watch the party.” Maybe it was, as during the finale I realised a faux-pas: I’d revered an unmasked Dust Witch in my last blog for escorting me into the bar and parting with a kiss, when the plaudits should have gone to the Executive. My apologies to Sarah Sweeney. No wonder Dusty hasn’t been returning my calls.
Once again I left Temple Studios with a great deal of satisfaction, yet a sudden uneasiness for the production’s pending closure. I always dreamt that it would exist perennially in the background, like a trusted old friend who’s always available when you need a break from the stresses of life; yet in just six weeks’ time it appears as though the love affair is due to come to an unavoidable end. The fact that a single piece of theatre can have such an impact on an individual’s life and become the feature of a near-nonstop conversation (as was the case in my post-match analysis with Zack Polanski) is a testament to the show, and my only hope is that when the studio doors close, another set open in the not-so-distant future and we’re invited to fall in love all over again.
After a late night at Temple Studios which required sleeping in late the next day, I didn't have a lot of free time on Saturday before it was time to head out to The Drowned Man yet again. What time I did have, I spent researching the show. Now that I'd officially had my first (and second) visit, I felt "safe" in reading some of the spoiler information. And I wanted a game plan for night #2 (and shows #3/4).
I set off from my hotel with notes in tow to meet up with deliriumdog and baby-mammoth (so glad she was joining us for this early show!) Our only topic of conversation: The Drowned Man. We had a spot of tea at deliriumdog's hotel and then a quick bite to eat at Garfunkel's next to Temple Studios. And then we were in line again for another double.
Having spent most of my first night "outside of the gates," I made the decision to venture "inside the gates." While part of me wanted to wrap up loose ends with the "western" half of the show, I knew I needed to see the Wendy version of things if I really wanted to get a complete picture. I almost would have been satisfied if the show was just one half—either William or Wendy. There was more than enough to follow on either side. Half of the show seemed like Sleep No More—a manageable endeavor I was used to. But I knew that wasn't what TDM was about. This was an epic event with two sides to the story. And I needed a glimpse into the studio world… A decision that proved to be immensely rewarding.
I opted to start with the man with the master plan: Mr. Stanford. And I was happy to see that Sam Booth was in the role on Saturday night. I knew I could probably find him in the black-and-white, checkered-floor ballroom in the basement. And despite getting off the elevator on that floor, I could not find my way to that room. I found myself lost in a maze of corridors—getting confused and scared even. Where are the actors? I don't like this. I finally ended up back by the elevator and reset myself. And realized the room was literally right in front of me. I entered and found a few other white masks meandering around. And then soon enough, Mr. Stanford joined us. I attached myself to him and circled around the main room as he set up a scene with an altar. And then, he locked eyes with me and extended a hand and we were off to his office for a special 1:1. Guess we were going to start this show with a bang!
I'd heard that this 1:1 was intense and it definitely was an interesting scene. Sam is … everything! Such an amazing actor. And his ability to improvise and work the scene—I was in awe of his talents. I felt like I was part of the show. (Only I didn't deserve to be there. My performance was abysmal.) Nonetheless, the scene ended, and he told me he had something to show me. I followed him back out to the main ballroom with the red curtains.
Soon after we arrived, Frankie (Owen Ridley-Demonick) came into the room and a frightening scene ensued. Three "men" in bald rubber masks joined us, and they performed a ritual with the young Frankie. I now know they refer to this scene as the "Initiation of Frankie" and it was quite the ordeal. Complete with baseball bats and simulated torture of the poor boy. When Mr. Stanford stepped forward to choke Frankie with an orange slice, he glanced my way to make sure I saw what was happening. And I held his gaze as he initiated the actor.
Afterwards, the bald, masked "men" (Claude Estes: David Essing; Alice Estes: Laura Harding; Dolores Grey: Sarah Dowling) removed their masks and presented Frankie with a contract. I kept my eye on Mr. Stanford, awaiting his next move. As I watched him, Alice Estes passed me in a determined walk and grabbed my arm. She kept babbling about something and started to drag me off. I resisted at first—wait, I want to follow Mr. Stanford—but had no choice but to go with her. She took me into a small room just outside the checkered-floor ballroom and proceeded to give me a 1:1.
I was thoroughly not expecting this. Alice took me by complete surprise. The scene was interesting with only mild intensity (compared to others), but left me feeling vulnerable. I allowed myself to stay in the moment with her and really felt what she was telling me. I honestly didn't even know who this character was until after the show. But Laura was amazing. I kept seeing different scenes with her. And her Alice always stole my focus. She's rambunctious and rowdy and bawdy and I loved it all! She's a-maz-ing!
Once I exited this private room, I went back to my mission of finding Mr. Stanford. I don't remember the exact order of his scenes, but at one point, he performed this super cool dance with Alice and a desk. Once again, the furniture became a member of the ensemble. Alice on one side and Mr. Stanford on the other, pushing the desk around the checkered floor. I was enthralled. There was also a scene with a gal (later I found out it was Romola) which was intriguing. Deliriumdog was following Romola for this loop so it was interesting to cross paths with him.
At some point, Mr. Stanford went back to the main part of the checkered-floor room and collapsed on his back in the middle of the floor. From this prone position, he cocked his head to the side, made eye contact with me and beckoned me over. At first, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to go. But he snapped his fingers and insisted. So, I obliged and bent down on the floor, kneeling next to him. He pulled my face next to his so he could whisper in my ear. And we shared another intense moment together.
Next, I helped Mr. Stanford up off the floor and he moved towards a motorized wheelchair where he took a seat. Before long, a crowd of white-masks arrived followed by almost the entire "inside the gates" cast for a large group number. I assumed this was the equivalent to the hoedown outside the gates and I wasn't wrong. Complete with sultry dancing, nudity, an orgy, adultery, betrayal and a freak out.
I actually didn't stay to see the end of the scene because at one point, Mr. Stanford and his wheelchair started to slowly back out of the room. And I wanted to stay with him. It felt eerie to follow along as his motorized chair inched forward—every so slowly. Until he was back in a corridor just to time to watch someone pass by (Wendy, possibly). It was cool the way the timing worked out. Then he was out of the chair and down the corridor and he tried to usher me into a room, but I didn't want to leave his side. And then he selected someone else for his second 1:1.
Ultimately, the "resurrection" music swelled and the reset was happening. Mr. Stanford then had a scene with the Doctor across the desk from earlier. Afterwards, I thought it might be fun to follow the Doctor (James Traherne), but he went into a closed room and locked the door. Ah well.
Since I realized we were in a "reset" and the chronological beginning of a loop was about to begin, I decided I should see some of the "main" Woyzeck story from Wendy's side. So, I ventured up to the ground floor and soon happened upon Wendy and Marshall (Jesse Kovarsky). I'd seen Jesse the night before as the Grocer and knew I was drawn to him. So, there wasn't much debate. I wanted to see his story.
I proceeded to follow Marshall for the entire next loop and saw some of the best dancing of the show. I don't remember all his scenes, but loved:
The seduction dance with Dolores in her bedroom
The make-up/confrontation dance with Wendy in the same bedroom which included lots of furniture climbing and bed jumping
The scene with Wendy outside their trailer home which involved dancing on top of the trailers and running through the bark
The scene with the PA who forces him to drink a poisonous potion and then invites him to the ball in the basement
The group number/orgy in the basement where Marshall is stripped naked for all to see
Before he left for the ball, he stopped right in front of me and stared into my eyes. It was the one moment I felt us connecting and longed for more attention from the put-upon Marshall.
My favorite scene, however, had to be the one with Dolores in the snow room before (or maybe after) she gives him the watch. Dolores flirted with and seduced Marshall until they were both in ecstasy as the music ("Past, Present and Future" by the Shangri-Las) swelled. And then they were running up and down the snow dunes, circling the crowd and making giant playful loops around one another. Sliding down the hills backwards. It gave me chills! My body buzzing with euphoria. This is why I come to these shows. You got me again, Punchdrunk. I found myself swaying along as I tried to feel the scene with the performers. Awesome!
I actually had several moments with Marshall. That character just didn't stop. He was constantly dancing. Always lifting both Wendy and Dolores. And you couldn't help but feel his innocence; that he was being manipulated. He was part of a larger plan, but had no clue. He was sheepish and unsure, but always in the moment. And Jesse carried this role with such aplomb. He seduced me in the role, and it was hard to leave his side.
Seeing all of Marshall's scenes with Wendy started to connect the mirrored stories for me. I loved seeing actions and plot points from the night before with William acted out by Wendy and Marshall. The puzzle pieces were starting to come together. And I had that feeling like I did in Sleep No More: it is more!
After Marshall was murdered up on that bark hill in the woods, I decided to pick up with the PA (Fania Grigoriou). I followed her to the basement and watched from outside a window as she had a scene on a desk. I was joined by another white mask who entered the small office and began to interact with the PA. Before long, the PA sat him in a chair and presented him with a watch which she was preparing for Dolores and ultimately Marshall. It was a great scene. From there, we went back to Dolores's dressing room for a tense scene between the two ladies. It ended with the PA standing on Dolores's red dress which was in a pile on the floor. I just loved that nefarious moment. And then the PA selected someone for a 1:1.
I wanted to stick with the PA, but didn't feel like we were connecting. So I decided to move on. Soon enough, I found Claude Estes (David Essing) and picked up with him. David was wonderful in this role. So slimy and deceitful. You could tell he was up to no good and wanted to manipulate every situation he could. He was on a power trip and loved it. And I loved the way David would smooth back his hair by gliding his hand over his head. It was perfect. If his pencil mustache was any longer, I'd expect him to twirl the end of it in true villain fashion. Mwah-ha-ha!
I enjoyed all the scenes with Claude. We were definitely connected and dialed in. I laughed when he and Alice auditioned Frankie on the locker room set. I felt aroused when he seduced Frankie with a kiss. And the more they interacted, the more passionate it got.
Another one of my favorite scenes was Claude's solo in the boardroom where his infatuation with Frankie becomes even more evident. Placing Frankie head shots in a circular pattern on the table, he stood in the middle obsessing over our boy. I could definitely relate. Afterwards, Claude pulled me close and put a postage-stamp size photo of Frankie in my palm and whispered in my ear.
I followed Claude back to the Studio room where he pulled me with him to watch Frankie rehearse a scene with Wendy and Andrea. It was so stalker-like to slink into the wings to glare at Frankie. And I was along for the ride. I stuck with Claude through the initiation of Frankie and even followed him back to an office in the basement to change clothes. All the while he was making eye contact with me and delivering dialogue as if it was directed to me.
I have to admit I was a little turned on during the orgy scene when Claude simulates blowing Frankie atop that table in the banquette. But then when the dance ended, Frankie erupted at Claude and choked him. It was a violent, nasty scene. And since I was following Claude, I felt sympathy for him even though I knew he was taking advantage of innocent Frankie.
After he was choked, Claude left again and went into some room with lots of head shots. In the center of the room under a spotlight, a headshot of Frankie hung on a clipboard. But Claude was not happy about it. He pulled the photo down and ripped it to pieces. And then replaced it with a photo of Dolores Grey. "It's time to set things right. It's time for things to get back to how they should be."
From there, Claude grabbed my hand and off we went to the finale. Just before we walked out on to the deck, he stopped and sort of cleaned himself up. "We've got to look right," he said. And then he adjusted my tie. It was a perfect interaction that I'll never forget. Claude then led me down to the bark hill and clutched me from behind as we watched the final scene. It was intense and moving. And I thank David for the time we spent together.
Afterwards, I went back to the bar to regroup with friends and to get ready for the late show. But I was so glad to have spent this evening "inside the gates" because I realized that is the show. Wendy is truly the lead. This is what makes The Drowned Man work as Temple Studios. And I'm glad I took the time to experience it.
