Hey my dirties. Since Monsieur DCepticon is going on holiday, the DCeiver has decided to fill the vaccuum, partially at Directrix Frederick's request, partially because it's time for me to nip and tuck at the blog template, and partially because I just effing feel like it.
I haven't been able to join you all in celebrating the opening of Arabian Night, because I have been traitorously ensconced in the arms of another company's supple embrace. Would that I could mitotically divide myself into a willing clone, who could have attended your opening, massaged Jordan Suderman's babe-like scalp, reported back to me with the fulsome details, and then, naturally, killed for sport in the style of The Most Dangerous Game.
But this was not to be. Your mission, then, is to keep burning those rampant, loin-localized fires of surreal sexiness until I can attend and attest that final weekend.
Speaking of fire, Rorschach continues to garner Promethean-metaphor fueled praise with each passing show. After Bright Room Called Day attested to our ideological flames, DC Theatre Reviews has weighed in with appreciation for Arabian Night, calling it, tellingly, "a scorcher." The dirty details can all be found here in their entirety. But to bullet point the reviewers main points:
- It is hot in the summertime.
- The reviewer described the curtain speech as "obligatory." Sigh.
- Pre-shows are awesome.
- The audience is burrowed deep into the characters' brains. Like earwhigs laying eggs!
- The show is unnerving.
- The shows' "heated emotions are all mixed up and bubbling in a simmering cauldron, ready to boil over." So, if you add milk to the concoction, be sure to watch the cauldron carefully.
- Getman's set is awesomer than even the pre-show. Obvs.
- Actors are translucent, sizzling, and easy to sympathize with, especially when stuck in elevators.
- Schimmelpfennig. Fun to spell, even more fun to say, but expensive to place on the back of a hockey jersey.