“sleep no more” is not billed as a play; rather, it is an immersive experience. it is loosely based on a 1930s version of macbeth, but i know macbeth - and i found it a stretch to follow and find connections. (in fact, i may have to go back and fish out my copy to re-read and possibly change that statement.) anyhow, the play takes place in the fictitious mckittrick hotel, which happens to be the old tunnel night club i went to in another lifetime, but that’s another story. upon entering the hotel, each person got a playing card, and a host called up “guests” to enter based on their card suit - which meant groups were separated. my friends and i could not bear the thought of enduring this alone, so we blatantly lied and huddled together in order to stay together as we boarded the elevator to who knows where. during the ride, we were told to walk towards the light, be totally silent, never take off our masks, and to be willing to explore every nook and cranny. i have to admit that i was more than a bit creeped out.
once the elevator reached its destination, we were directed down the initial dark hallway and ended up on a shop street with a tailor, an office with a coffin, which was filled with notes, someplace that had a bathtub and bunches of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, which constantly got stuck in my hair, a candy store, a private investigator’s office. from there, we watched a scene spontaneously unfold, and when the characters split, we randomly chose one and followed - with masses of other people, trying not to trip on one another. depending on who you followed and when, dictated what you saw next. it is simply impossible for everyone to see/experience the same thing, which explains why people come multiple times. (thinking about it now, the idea may be to follow a single character and pursue him/her throughout the experience to get a more cohesive understanding on what the heck is happening.)
as you wandered (carefully and slowly) down dark corridors and winding back stairways, meandering into individual rooms, you were encouraged to be curious and poke around in
drawers, journals, trunks, and bookcases - and, if you know me, you know that just fed just my nosey tendencies. that said, it was a very voyeuristic experience, and sometimes i felt uncomfortable as if i were spying on people’s private moments. while you could do just about anything and go just about anywhere, silence was strictly enforced. we even got shooshed for saying "excuse me" (when we bumped into people) or said "bless you" (after someone sneezed) by the ultra serious black masked and clothed people, who almost totally blended into the walls, which was freaky. clearly, verbal nicities were not encouraged or even necessary. not even the actors spoke. music was the cue to the mood - well, assuming you were not able to determine pitch darkness, the sound of scads of birds flapping their wings, and brief flashes of light meant something ominous was about to happen.
scenes varied from baths, fights, a mother nursing her baby, all sorts of dances, simulated sex in phone booths, characters leaving notes in rooms, a tailor mending a shirt, a witch gathering tears from a crying woman. i thought the creepiest rooms were the children's bedrooms, the nursery with the headless baby mobile, the living area that had every picture and mirror turned to face the walls, the cemetery, which was pitch black with only white crosses visible - and it was cold with a breeze. apparently, there were also hospital rooms, a padded room with straight jackets hanging all about, and an operating room, but we totally missed those - again, because of who you chose or chose not to follow. there were at least four floors to explore. it was a totally massive space, but you had no sense of where you were at any given time.
aside from the crowds, the smells, the smoke machines, and the bizarre scenes unfolding around every corner, the most annoying factor was the mask. my beak (and everyone else’s, to be fair) protruded so much that when i bent down to inspect or to read something, i constantly pecked some surface or another - which, ultimately caused the mask to shift so that my eyeglasses were no longer in line with the mask eye holes. i spent a good chunk of the night rearranging the mask to fit the eye holes to align with my glasses. i realize everyone wears masks to signify being invisible, and this was reiterated when the actors ignored the patrons and just bumped into us as if we weren't there. that said, there was some major group scrambling to avoid the naked man (save for an animal head) covered in blood, and more than a few random toes were crushed.
as mentioned earlier, everyone chased after their selected actor and saw totally individual scenes. the only exception was the finale. each character ends up at a banquet table - bringing the masses of people following them into the space. suddenly, a noose descends from the ceiling, and a way-too happy man, who was initially thrilled to put his head in the noose, changes his mind . . . but he's ignored, and, before you know it, he is swinging wildly into the crowd, struggling with the rope - above our heads and creating a much-needed breeze. at this point, i was so done.
on the way out, a book was for sale to fill in the gaps and to explain the story and characters. really, i just paid $80 to see this immersive production. shouldn't i know the story by the end and not have to spend an additional $30 to explain what i just experienced? while i still cannot figure out entire scenes, and the first sentence out of mouth when we could speak was "what the hell was that play all about,” i’m left wondering if everyone else understood what they just saw or am i just a simple girl who understands mama mia?
i'd say i didn't care for "sleep no more," but my friends and i have been talking about it for four days. maybe the sign of an intriguing book/movie/play is its "staying with you power," as opposed to whether or not you enjoyed it. i suppose you don't always have to like something for it to be considered good. thankfully, i can now close my eyes and not see hundreds of white beaked people surrounding me. i would not do this 44 thing again - well, maybe i could be convinced . . . if it was free, and i had a few drinks. . .
my look for the evening . . .
on to thing 17 . . .
