Not since I fell in love with 'Blood Brothers' in the nineties, (seems unbelievable now that I have examined it a million times, can recite it by heart and grimace every time I see it on a running order), have I been to see a show as many times as I have 'The Drowned Man'. Five to be precise.
I am addicted. Completely. Apparently I'm not alone in this as the Facebook group for addicts proves. Every line/prop/character/cast member is analysed within an inch of their life on this group and it does make you think that people really have got too much time and money on their hands, until you find yourself joining right in. I reckon it will become a support network once the blasted thing has closed, which is looming, on July 6th.
So what is it about this performance that is so compelling? Immersive theatre is a steadily growing genre in this country, and worldwide, as a new generation of theatre-going public are desperate to be part of the action rather than just being spectators. Being a control-freak, the ability to dictate the show that I want to see when I go is definitely part of the draw.
The incredible phenomena of the 1-2-1 experience is also a huge pull. Last night was the most terrifying encounter I have had there. I followed a character called The Dust Witch for the first time as I figured I had to man up as it was probably my last visit. Up until this point I have avoided an entire floor of the warehouse as I had no intention of coming face-to-face with a black-veiled figure in a shadowy desert. I duly grew a pair and followed her religiously for twenty minutes or so before being taken by the hand and dragged into a pitch black room where she locked the door behind me. She uncovered her face and then blindfolded me, made me run about a bit in the dark, threw a bit of sand at me and then whispered in my ear that I was about to be blinded by the sun whilst pushing me in front of what must have been a huge heated lamp of some sort. Fascinating that I paid good money for this. I am a bit of a pussy and did at some point wonder if I was actually going to come out alive and had to do a little bit of mantra-chanting, "It's just Drama, it's Drama, she's just acting, I'm sure she's a really nice lady..." etc, etc. to stop myself from having a heart attack. It was completely exhilarating though, and, as I legged it to the bar immediately after being released to down a large glass of Pinot as quickly as possible, I revelled in the amazing experience of it all.
Many companies are attempting immersive these days but nobody gets it quite as right as Punchdrunk. My Studio Executive ticket last night had me downing vodka shots whilst watching a lady float across a table in failing light before I'd even entered the performance. Thinking about it, maybe I just like the huge amounts of available alcohol and the naked cowboys with big dongs, maybe it is nothing to do with 'art' at all?
Shelley came with me as a newbie last night and loved it too. I would have dumped her otherwise, without a second thought. ;-) She was totally up for exploring and we got over-excited as we found a trapdoor that was open and I crawled through it first, with her following in close pursuit. Unfortunately, the trapdoor shouldn't have been open at that point and we ended up arriving in the middle of a floor that a huge dance was happening on with about 100 audience members watching. I was 'escorted' to the side by a member of the crew and knew the same 'head-popping-up-in-the-middle-of-a-scene' fate was about to happen to Shell but was unable to stop it. We laughed, a lot, then headed back to the bar to down more big wines.
Perhaps I will treat myself to one more sneaky visit before the curtain comes down. Maybe it would be better to leave on the high of last night though. We shall see. In any case, the blog needs to give up this slightly more cultured feel and head back to talking about booze and willies. Although I did a fairly good job of keeping booze and willies involved in the cultural post...
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