Because 4,000 Words Wasn't Enough

"Speakeasy Dollhouse" the play, the only time you can ever
witness a murder live and in close up be kind of happy about it

So it's been a busy month for me, which explains why I have been negligent on this blog.

Besides the fact that I turned 25 earlier this month (drinks for everyone!), I also did a bit of freelancing and a giant amount of research for two articles I'm writing for the July/August issue of "American Theatre." One article required me to visit the Alabama Shakespeare Festival (hey guys!). And the other had me write 3,000 (which then turned into 4,000) words and go undercover (fancy!) as an actor for "Speakeasy Dollhouse," an immersive and interactive theatre experience set in a speakeasy bar in the 1930s. It also required me to spend an inordinate amount of time on YouTube looking for 1930's make-up and hair tutorials. Of anybody needs help with their wave curls, I can do them now!

I go into it in more detail about my acting "debut" in the "American Theatre" article. Let's just say I was required to talk to the audience and do some sketching of the murderer pictured above. Here's what I drew in 10 minutes. My roommate said I was a "natural" at acting, I'm glad I went into a more invisible profession.

Have you seen this man?
I'm also available for birthday parties to sketch small children

And that, folks, was my one-night-only (for now) New York stage debut, spawned "Speakeasy"'s creator, the multitalented Cynthia von Buhler, who suggested during my interview with her: "You should be in it!" And my response went something like, "No no no, I couldn't...[20 minutes later] Wait...maybe...I could write about it." And I did. The things you do in the name of research. And finding a great lede.

That, coupled with seeing the Imelda Marcos musical "Here Lies Love" at the Public Theater (and writing about it), seeing "Then She Fell" (based on "Alice in Wonderland") again, seeing "Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812," (based on "War and Peace") AND seeing "Sleep No More" (based on "Macbeth") in the past two months means that I've been up to my ears in immersive theatre. And speaking of my ear, Lady Macbeth whispered into it during "Sleep No More," she said, "unsex me here."

Ruthie Ann Miles is Imelda Marcos in "Here Lies Love."
Not pictured: awkward audience members trying to line dance

And I'm going to try to get into the already-sold-out "Roadkill" at St. Ann's Warehouse (about that thing you really want to immerse yourself in: human trafficking) and NY Times reporter Jason Zinoman just pointed out an 17-hour camping-trip cum audience-participatory piece called Camp Nightmare.

So audience immersion is going around right now. Though according to "Sleep No More" producer Randy Weiner, it was always around. But I'll go into more details in the nuts and bolts of it (and the national scene) in the "AT" article. For now, I want to give my personal views on the genre, which I am obsessed with right now, obviously (or else I wouldn't have written 4,000 words about it). 

What I am finding freeing, as an audience member, about this kind of theatre, is how I literally cannot fall asleep during (which happens a lot these days when I have booze beforehand and have to sit still in the dark for two hours). In immersive theatre, because you and the actors share a common space and they're a mere feet away from you (as opposed to rows of seats away), what is happening to them is also happening to you, which makes you more invested in the experience.

The genre takes theatre's inherent ability to transport the viewer into another world and turns it up a couple of notches, by literally plopping them into another world. And for people who want to live in the world of certain plays (geeks like me and hello "Wicked"), immersive works let us do just that. The word "ownership" comes up quite a bit, where the way you see a show may not be the way your date saw it, and so, the play that you saw will solely belong to you, because no one else saw it the way you did. Anatole didn't sit down on the back of your date's chair, he sat on your chair, which means that that moment is singular and yours, and nobody else's. And yes, Anatole did sit on my chair  during "Natasha, Pierre." And yes, he was hot even in close-up.

Yeah, see that guy on the right? He sat on my chair. It was magical.

Of course, there are some criticisms that I do have of immersive works. The story lines are usually underdeveloped. For example, Pierre and his ennui is grossly under-developed in "Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812" and "Sleep No More" can verge on incoherent if you don't have an intimate knowledge of "Macbeth." And you don't go to these works for long, breath-taking monologues. Or pointed criticisms about modern life.

And as this review of "Murder Ballad" from Manhattan Theatre Workshop pointed out, not every play is ripe for immersive staging, and can be utilized as a way of getting ticket-buyers into the door, instead of, you know, for more artsy reasons.

But honestly, when it comes to immersive shows for me, it is so difficult to be critical when you can see the actors weeping openly in front of you and see their bodies shaking with angst and frustration. There's something powerful about that, something that brings them from the god-like, beautiful beings acting for you on a stage, to people that exist in the same space as you, that share your flesh and blood.

Or maybe I just have a fascination with touching actors.

And also, it's hard to be critical when the play begs, nay commands, you to engage with it. To turn this way and that, dance and eat with the characters. As someone who sees way too much theatre and can't remember most of the things I have seen, such works stand out in my mind because I was forced to work so hard in it. And in return, the show was dedicated to making sure that I, as the audience, feel something and have a good time.

It's difficult to dislike something that wants so badly for you to engage with it and practically forces you to. Just play along, the whole thing will be easier if you do. And really, it's just so damn fun!