How will we emerge from the COVID Quarantine?
Mark Nassar
Mark Nassar is an immersive theatre pioneer based in San Francisco.
That is the question.
How are cities going to open up? Here in first-to-close, last-to-open, San Francisco, we predict we’ll emerge in a very methodical way. Our fair city might not allow gatherings of over 20 people at the start of reopening.
I’ll stay in my corner and talk theater, immersive theater in particular, where I can make an informed guess.
Theater artists, who create outside the orthodox platforms, have an edge, untethered as they are, from a particular infrastructure.
Let me share the advantages of immersive theater in general and then get more specific about ideas that might work for future projects, soon after cities and towns re-open.
In the immersive sphere we constantly conjure up ideas on how to make a theater experience as intimate and realistic as possible for the audience AND the actor. How can we make it easier for audiences to enter a world and actually live in the moment without distraction? In an immersive world the audience doesn’t see a stage. The actors don’t see rows of audience members – no fourth wall, no cameras, no sightline issues, etc. Like children, we create a world and play pretend. Even in an abstract immersive piece like the juggernaut, Sleep no More, the audience experiences intimacy and inclusion, as they live inside a world that feels very real. As much as any other factor, this is what attracts audiences, especially young audiences to immersive experiences. And there are an infinite range of styles and budgets within the genre.
On one end you have the Tony n’ Tina’s Wedding style: improv driven, low-budget interactive party plays that audiences, for decades, have loved being a part of. When performed properly without caricature, it’s a very trippy experience for audience and actor.
Today, immersive artists and producers are going upscale, budget-wise, to create expensive and elaborate productions like Sleep no More. These are more in line with John Krizanc’s, Tamara, circa 1981, where audiences were voyeurs in an Italian villa.
The last few years in San Francisco have given me first-hand experience with both ends of that budget spectrum.
Take the immersive hit The Speakeasy for instance. The production built a vintage 10,000 square foot underground Prohibition-Era Speakeasy (virtual tour). There was a 1500 page script. It was a drama that ran in seven different rooms with seven different full-length plays in each of them with a story that interconnected room to room.
The Speakeasy
As an actor on the project, playing the owner of the speakeasy, it was one of the most challenging rehearsal experiences of my life. Try figuring the timing of entrances and exits in a labyrinth. But as an actor, it was a dream to live in that kind of fantasy. It was like being inside a great film. It was an upscale endeavor, costing a few million to produce. Audiences were all-in, dressing in 1920’s attire. It had a three-year run with new incarnations in the works.
The superb thing about immersive theatre is that it can also be produced effectively on a small budget. Small enough, that you can borrow the money from your cousin with a real job. Thanks, Cuz!
Last year, with transgender legends Collette LeGrande and Donna Personna, we created an immersive play based on the historical Compton’s Cafeteria Riot, entitled – you guessed it - The Compton’s Cafeteria Riot. It was co-produced with Tenderloin Museum.
In 1966, in San Francisco’s Tenderloin neighborhood, transgender women rioted against police brutality. It started at Gene Compton’s Cafeteria. We recreated that night in an actual diner on Polk St. The audience enjoyed a midnight breakfast of waffles and bacon and watched a scripted drama that re-imagined a significant event in LGBTQ history. Our audience had an up-close and personal experience.
As a matter of fact, check it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIt_ExhfGJM
At 0:33, in this KQED(PBS) feature, you’ll see a young woman with red hair and a polka-dot dress sitting at the counter during the play’s climax. She’s an audience member. Her reaction is visceral. She’s experiencing feelings that are intense, perhaps even more intense than what the actors are feeling.
Two actors, Jaylyn Abergas (L.) Shane Zaldivar (R.) The audience members peek from behind.
These audience members, in the middle of it, wear the same expressions as the actors, experiencing the same traumatic exchange.
The Compton’s Cafeteria Riot cost around $15,000 in pre-production and it could have been done for half that amount if we had to. Note: All of our artists get paid.
Another advantage of immersive theater is that we can find venues that need us. We can avoid crazy theater rents. The New Village Café, where we performed “Comptons”, was a breakfast and lunch joint. They close every day after 3pm. We approached the owner and asked him if he would like to sell his place out for several nights a week. The production pays for the food and the venue keeps the bar. No rent involved. I approach it like a promoter, not a renter. We’re bringing that venue business they otherwise wouldn’t have. Even if there are no meals or drinks to sell you can definitely make an arrangement that works better than renting a theater because, as you know, the prices are so steep, it’s almost impossible to get an investment back (even if you’re the greatest producer and have a kickass play). With Compton’s we had our money back in a month. We had no rent. We didn’t need to build a set. The New Village Café’s vibe already worked for us with its long counter, swivel stools and patina of decades old grease stains that scream reality. It would have cost tens of thousands to build that set from scratch. How about free rehearsal at the venue? Yes.
The Compton’s Cafeteria Riot, had a sold out run with two extensions and a waiting list. We had as much publicity, if not more, than a million-dollar production. We secured investment to take it to the next level and planned to reopen this June in a venue we designed and built. We’ll push the opening to February, until we find out more. Note: The play will be directed by a transgender woman with a transgender cast. There’s an ethical obligation to cast transgender and non-binary actors, but in an immersive piece, with the audience up close, authenticity takes it to another level, the blow-them-away level. And we did and will again.
SO, how do we stick our toes back into the water?
I’m currently working on a project that involves moving 10 to 15 people at a time, through a set-to-set immersive experience.
I’m also working on an idea with Tenderloin Museum that will utilize a boutique hotel. Audience members will go hotel room to hotel room. Each room will have a unique setting, scene, and sensation that lasts about 3 minutes with 4 to 5 people in a room at a time.
In both of these scenarios, we still have the potential to sell a couple hundred tickets an evening, using staggered starts. No more than 10-15 people will occupy a room at a time. Usually they’ll be groups of friends and the experience won’t be diminished if the wear masks. We plan to provide (sell) very “artsy” ones. Ha.
It might be interesting to have a theatrical bar crawl with our favorite bar scenes from plays or movies in each venue. An immersive The Iceman Cometh in an actual bar would be out of this world. McSorley’s anybody? Bar owners would love this. They could get a100 customers over the course of a few hours and stay within the probable reopening limits. The producers get a free stage. They also get twenty guests at a time with staggered starts to go through the crawl.
Admittedly, this kind of theater can be rough on actors. They might have to repeat the same scene 5 to 15 times a night. It will be a great acting exercise though. Maybe after the 10th time, they’ll stop acting and live the part. Hey, there’s an idea!
When cities first reopen, I think audiences are going to want light fare, but they’ll always respond to an audacious imagination no matter what the times are.
Let’s try an immersive free association – immersive experience in an operating room. Every actor, audience member, and technician will be in full-on hermetically sealed hospital gear. Could it take place in a medical school? Preferably with the old-fashioned gallery where medical students look down to watch an operation …
… masks, masks… how about an immersive Suffragette rally? Or an experience that took place during the 1918 flu pandemic (two years before women received the national right to vote). Masks!!!! Great costumes. Vivid high-stakes drama. AND it could be performed outdoors – how about on the steps of Federal Hall, where our First President was inaugurated. Why hasn’t it been done already?
Why hasn’t an immersive play about Stonewall been conceived? Can you imagine? It’s already written…Laundromats!!!! And people can actually do their own laundry. Stop! The madness!
The possibilities are infinite. Like traditional theater, talent is very much a requirement. You need great writers and artists, but there are fewer obstacles to the finish and more opportunities for reward.
After 9/11, it took a long while for audiences to come back to the theater. They were afraid to gather in a place where a bomb might go off. It literally was an act of bravery to see a show. When they first opened theaters after 9/11, I was performing in Tony n’ Tina’s Wedding in New York. It was strange. We had about 25 people in the audience our first night of reopening (about one audience member for every actor). I particularly remember a group of southern ladies who were courageous enough to fly and not cancel their theater weekend. I remember having a newfound feeling of love and admiration for them.
I remember thinking, “How in God’s name are we going to improv with this crowd? The play takes place in the moment. How are we going to avoid the 9/11 topic?”
The audience that night felt us. They were too kind. Those 25 people laughed harder, danced harder, partied harder than any audience ever. They, like us, were deeply appreciative and giddy to be back out.
They need us. We need them. Let’s get to it.
Sincerely,
Mark
Mark Nassar is an immersive theater pioneer. He helped create multiple interactive shows including, Tony n’ Tina’s Wedding, Johnny Boy’s Graduation, The Bobby Dallas After-Party and Birdy’s Bachelorette Party. Nassar recently co-created The Compton’s Cafetaria Riot, which was picked to be apart of the Best of 2018 by SF weekly. Nassar’s Off-Broadway play, The Mayor’s Limo was published by Samuel French and was the basis of the feature film A Line in the Sand, starring Jon Bernthal. Nassar recently finished a three-year run, performing in San Francisco’s immersive hit, The Speakeasy.
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