Count me in as someone who fell instantly in love with the piece. A damn travesty that it has closed so early. Last night's final performance was absolute insanity. An experience I don't think I'll ever forget; Ben had to mime for us to stop clapping and hollering after SELLING OUT. There was a complete symbiotic relationship happening between the audience and the cast last night; everyone was in on the joke and having a damn blast. As someone so aptly put above me, it was a rock concert. Such electricity, passion and terrifying energy buzzing throughout the space. The actors brought IT, the musicians brought IT, and the audience brought IT.
As a firm believer in the Art of Darkness, this production only elevated ideas brought forth in Bret Easton Ellis' novel, or Mary Harron's film adaptation. We are now, more than ever, all Patrick Bateman. Rupert Goold's brilliant staging was stark, daring and dripping with blood; Ben Walker's performance was brilliant, heartbreaking and startling. The list goes on...
I saw it three times and probably would have kept going back, had it not been slaughtered so early in the game. The Schoenfeld became a place to embrace your weirdness, your carnality and your bacchanal sensibility. Just like it's neighboring show across the street (rhymes with Ramilton), AP was changing the BWay/musical theatre game. A mean, cheeky, electronic look into the Abyss; I will be forever so grateful that I got to indulge in this Killing Spree.
Side note: during the beginning of At The End of an Island, Helene began undressing and the audience went wild. She slipped in an ad-libbed "thank you," to which there was rapturous applause. She also took forever to acknowledge Patrick during the beginning of the Birthday party, which again, lauded much applause.
isn't it nice to know a lot? / and a little bit not.