Michael’s Play (Part 2)
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| Photo by Amy Darling |
Part II
Normally when I am asked to go to a play my
immediate response is, “Couldn’t hear you, what was that again?” This
allows me to conjure up as many excuses as possible while the question is
repeated and at the end of which I can say, “Thursday night...aw shit, that’s
the night I’m having my feet removed.”
Michael assured me that this play was different,
so I went, and he was right. In fact, the word “play” in the traditional
sense doesn’t apply. Rather than force a
label on it, I’ll just say, “ya kinda had to be there.”
Despite the show being sold out the cast nearly
outnumbered the audience. The show takes its structure from a runaway
train accompanied by vignettes where permanent cast members take turns losing
their grip on reality. Sandwiched between these displays are some walk-on
acts that range from disassembling a Big Mac atop a rotating umbrella, to revealing
the origin of the universe. The walk-ons are different every night. The night I went with Nina and B-rad, someone
who I took to be Alice in Wonderland, related a moving personal experience
which served as a cautionary tale regarding the dangers of hallucinogens.
I was surprised to learn later that Alice had done a walk-on for the
previous week’s show spending a solid 5 minutes silently piercing various body
parts.
A white-faced Amazonian Princess served as the
mistress of ceremonies, helping smooth things over between the triumphs and
disasters that encircled her. She occasionally appeared to be temporarily
dissociated but seemed to return each time completely unfazed and in fact
visibly refreshed. Had a fire broken out
on stage, she would have welcomed it and found a way to work it in.
A ballet dancer spun and pranced to a seriously
profound recitation by Alan Watts or someone whose voice was instantly
recognizable to everyone except me. A second dancer tickled the heads of
the audience with her butterfly wings while singing a golden oldie. Then came a mini-lecture by a tall bald
fellow who may have been an opening act for Joseph Campbell. His message
described a process capable of raising one’s consciousness without
hallucinogens. Interestingly, his one visual aid was identical
to the death star in The Empire Strikes Back and his process was
obviously discovered with the use of hallucinogens.
Toward the end I realized the two persons who
had stood motionless on stage through the entire show were a couple from
Zorthian’s Ranch whom I had met at a Midnight Ridazz event last year. I
didn’t recognize them until they began their Gregorian chant number. In my defense it should be noted that at the
Ridazz event I was buzzed, and they were wearing clothes.
The show can hardly be considered finely tuned
as there are several times where the wheels begin to come off and the Amazonian
Princess is called upon to perform a reverse dismount. The abundance of
chaos creates a tension that swells and subsides as the show progresses. The degree of tension is made apparent at the
conclusion when a mustachioed faro dealer encourages the audience to scream at
the top of their lungs - no one holds back.
