It began a few months back with "Baby... you wanna watch Repo! with me and brainstorm on some scenes?" So we did. Ashley is the love of my life, after all, and I'd watch a slasher flick with (for?) her any time. And brainstorm scenes, even though this is definitely not my line of work. So then I'm like "hmm... I like this movie." Except the Thankless Job scene. That was too gory for me. Folks, I had no idea...
Fast-forward to the Sacramento Horror Film Festival. Or rather to the point where the decision is made to do the preview and the tech rehearsal for that occurs. I'm doing more than brainstorming now, I'm carrying boxes with heavy stuff in them. Then the fest itself, whereupon I drive movie-stars around (and getting lost in Sac's Web O' Freeways), duck-tape random things, and running around acting like Ashley's walkie-talkie. When the pressure's on, everyone is put to use, especially boyfriends.
After the show, in the afterglow of euphoria, I'm told that we need an extra dude to fill a genecop role. I say yes. I mean, this can't be a huge time commitment, right?
Eight weeks later, I find myself playing four roles, including the one where Tim rips my guts out in that scene I don't like. Which means I spend most of my time ripping one costume off myself and putting another one on. I'm sad because the screen-accurate replicas of genecop rifles didn't come in. I find two M4s in WalMart on the morning of the opening day. I feel better.
At this point I'm researching the locations of emergency rooms in Sacramento because Ashley's been running a high fever for days. I'm convinced she's going to collapse an hour before the show. She seems to be surrounded by eight people yelling her name on any given minute. Insanity reigns, but I can't shake a persistent feeling that we're going to be fine. "We're gonna ROCK this HOUSE!" I proclaim to anyone who'd listen. They look at me like I'm some kind of looney. Oh ye of little faith...
A couple hours before the show everything is chaos. Props, wigs, bits of costumes litter the place. In an upstairs dressing room I help Jessalyn zip up her costume. It seems 50% of everyone's time has been spent helping Jessalyn transition between costumes. She has many costumes. I try to work the zipper and it comes off, opening a gash in the back of her dress. I say "we're gonna ROCK this HOUSE!" Jessalyn blinks at me. I finally succeed in zipping her up. We're halfway through our penultimate runthrough.
The special effects guy arrives with a bundle of gross things, and Tim and I finally get to practice pulling my guts out. The first time around the intestine gets stuck in my pants and Tim bungles his dance routine while trying to yank it out. The prosthetic is duck-taped to my hairy Jewish stomach and chest. I have a bad feeling about this.
Every time I run through the theatre, the scene becomes a little neater. Techies are dashing around and looking more haggard and dusty by the minute. We're finding out about all the things that aren't going to work the way we wanted: Tristan's Pavi face isn't articulate, Camille tends to rotate a little (or a lot) on the wire, a few of the costumes couldn't be made, there's no face prosthetic for "Blame Not My Cheeks". A few minutes before the show I run to the Green Room to re-attach the abdominal cavity prosthetic to myself. I find Jessalyn there, worried about the face. Felicity is there worried about her slashed throat. Every other minute Catt exclaims something like "Oh my God, how am I going to do X, Y and Z?" Dani wanders by wondering where the Evening Slice magazine went.
I think to myself "We're gonna ROCK this HOUSE!" It's unconvincing. I feel a little faint.
People are lining up outside. I run into my cousin in the line. Ashley's Mom brings us sandwiches, and we force each other to eat.
Little by little, chaos resolves itself. The audience is in place, and while it's not a full house, it's a pretty filled-up house. Billy and I are sporting the genecop riot gear, so we can't do anything but wait now. We hang out with a bunch of gals in Sanitarium Square garb in the VIP room upstairs. Half an hour passes in tense idleness.
I worry about the Thankless Job scene. The board to which I'm supposed to be strapped is a little bare and I tend to slide off it. There's little to hold on to. The first time I tried it, it broke under my (fairly light) weight. I responded by sticking a dozen more screws into it. Will it hold? We'll see...
The show begins! When Dani comes out in Graverobber's costume, the crowd goes nuts. When Tim comes out on stage in Repo Man's costume, rips out Felicity's heart and throws it (with aorta attached) into the audience, the audience goes MORE nuts. I'm watching through the door, thinking, we have 'em. I'm relieved that the lights are good, even though there were pretty dismal during the runthrough. I can't see Stephen's head explode, but I hear the audience freak out. Ashley comes out through the door and says excitedly: "Oh man... it's ALREADY good!" She's pale and feverish. I worry about her.
The flashlights I taped to the M4s are super bright, and I love how the audience members flinch when Billy and I get in their faces during 21st Century Cure. We advance onto the stage on cue, Catt is suitably terrified as we push her around. Then Trevor shows up in the Repo Man's costume and pushes us around.
And then the blur begins. My ears are permanently tuned to the soundtrack (which I still haven't gotten out of my head) as I rip the riot gear off, ready to be wheeled on stage as the Legal Assassin victim. I barely need to act scared: Tim growls the lines into my face and I fear he's going to bite my nose off. I'm glad that I personally (and nonchalantly) checked Tim's prop scalpels: they're dull. Whew. I'm 50% certain he'd start cutting me for real during Thankless Job. That one's next.
Tyler the techie and I are still not quite sure how to do that one. The big board is living on stage for the time being, much to Ashley's displeasure. I placed a chain on it for me to hold on to (and pretend to be bound by). Tyler is going to help me roll the board out, but during the scene it seems to me (and to the audience) that I'm pulling that huge thing after me by myself. Thirty seconds before we go on stage the special effects guy comes up to me and says: "I got a blood pack for you, lemme just..." and shoves it into my prosthetic. "What do I do with it?" I ask. "Oh, just tell Tim to tear it," he says. "Uh Tim," I say. "I've a blood packet inside my guts. Just um, tear it." "Oookkay," says Tim. He's discombobulated, focusing on his choreography. I think "fuck it." It'll work.
Oh. It works. The fake blood goes everywhere, down my pants, all over my stomach, all over Tim's gloves and helmet and legs and all over the floor. It's cold, slick and, after a minute, incredibly sticky. The crowd roars as Tim yanks out a long intestine. He looks for the heart, but for some reason his gloved hand, slick with fake blood, starts probing *downwards* into my pants. Um, Tim? That's not where the heart is... He mercifully gives up and finishes the scene. I'm still not sure what THAT was... As I slide off the board and crawl offstage, I notice the enormous pool of blood on the stage. Who knew that little packet could hold so much?
When Theresa helps me take the duck tape off, I scream so loudly they can hear me on stage. The fake blood congeals on my stomach, and for the rest of the show my shirt clings to it. My pants are encrusted. Tim's gloves stick together. We look at each other in bewilderment, but the show must go on.
I will die a few more times, but not as spectacularly. I still barely see anything that goes on on stage, but by the audience's reaction, we're doing well. After the intermission, it's time to rock out to Seventeen.
Trevor and I climb into our costumes: he into the Lion, me into the Hippo. I can't see out of the Hippo head. So, to help me find the stage, Trevor has to lead me by the hand. As the scene starts, we're standing together, in silence, in the dark, holding hands. It's weird and comforting at the same time. And when we get on stage, the crowd goes nuts.
I've a weird memory about that scene. After Ashley comes on stage as Joan Jett and starts rocking out, I sneak a peak through the Hippo's mouth, and all I can see is bright multicolored stagelights, and a bunch of jumping "fans". The light, music and chaos of the scene make that crowd appear huge. I feel like a rockstar. My legs would ache for a week afterwards.
More feverish changing, painful plucking at the sticky shirt and pants, a glorious genecop death at the hand of the Repo Man. Then the dead get up, scurry offstage to change into suits for We Started This Op'ra Shit. Forgetting to go around the back, I saunter straight through the isle, followed by curious glances. In the foyer, I find the Woman with the Martini Glass, in whom I barely recognize Ashley. I can barely think: "Ooh! Long hair! Hot!" when we're off through the doors. "Geneco helped upgrade my second-class heredity!!" "My liver was totally wrecked, but now I can drink whatever I want!"
Then I dip her. Awkwardly. The audience gawks: they don't know. Frankly, they're probably gawking at the genterns. Our genterns are hot and a lot more skimpily dressed. And they're writhing against each other.
I prance offstage. Another change into a genecop, sticky fingers leaving red smudges on everything. Camille up in the air, and the audience roars again. Another glorious Repo-death on floor center. Then the crescendo at the opera, Justin's glorious death scene, and the special effects guy sauntering across the stage with... wait... WTF?! What is he..? Oh... my... I'm ready to watch Ashley fly at him and rip his head off right on stage. Thankfully, she exercises restraint. Then Tim's Repo Man coat gets caught in the wheelchair and the audience snickers. Catt's and Tim's performance brings them back.
Then the final scene, and then the bows. And then we're done! Except we're not. It takes us two days to load out. When we get home, Ashley sleeps twelve hours straight. I don't sleep. I am awake all night thinking about how to improve things.
We're all pumped. February is going to...
Except then the reviews come in and hey. What'd I tell you? WE ROCKED THAT HOUSE!
Ladies and gents, boys and girls. We're a kick-ass bunch, aren't we? With all that didn't quite work out, with everything that didn't go according to plan, all the props that didn't materialize, the spinning flying rig, the last-minute special effects that surprised us more than the audience... we got them peeing their pants. Now imagine February. Yeah. That's right.
I think I'm hooked on this...
p.s. Sorry if I didn't tag people, I don't have everyone...
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