A Certain Curse

Anyone who’s worked in Theatre for even a moderate amount of time knows about it. If you say the ‘M’ word inside a theatre, you are begging the drama gods to make something go wrong during the show. If not something truly bad or worse, like a physical injury. I’ve seen it happen, more than once. In any case, this curse has been known to extend to even *quoting* the Scottish Play.

The Mystery of Irma Vep has been far and away my favorite show to do. If I ever get the chance, I’m going to do it again. Something that had to be pointed out to me because it’s been ages since I read the bloody thing: Irma Vep uses quotes from the play of Shakespeare’s regarding a married couple of ambitious Scots. That, then, explains the fact that in nearly every performance, something has gone wrong.

Usually a technical thing, sometimes it’s something little and barely noticeable, and before you know it we’ve moved on. Other times it affects the dialogue if it’s a very important prop. The audience knows something is up, and the can’t help but howl with laughter. Can’t say I blame ‘em.

Here’s the thing, though. In this show, it’s *okay* for things to go a little awry. My beard has fallen off twice onstage, as the Egyptian guide Alcazar. Nano saved the day by calling it the ‘Curse of the Follicles’. We had a field day working around a sarcophagus that wouldn’t stay closed when it was rather important it did, and even more fun with an electric candle that was supposed to be burning steadfastly through the first act that we couldn’t get to light to save our lives. None of these things are anyone’s fault. They just happen. And it’s hilarious when it does.

Take last night, for example. In the 3rd act, my character Enid has taken to playing a dulcimer. In a fit of anger, Nano’s character Lord Edgar took a step too close to the chair the dulcimer was under and he accidentally kicked it. Loudly. A smile crept onto his face, and I repeated my line, a question to him, as if he had been struck dumb. The audience ate it up. Later, when he handed me the instrument to calm down, saying “Play your dulcimer, darling,” I couldn’t help but reply “If it still works!” Again, the audience was in hysterics.

My point is this: I think we may have the curse licked. Irma Vep is the kind of show with the elbow room to improvise should something not go right. It’s a very technical show, relying on a trap door or two, pyrotechnics, over 100 well-timed sound cues, and more props than we sometimes know what to do with. And when something has messed up, we’ve rolled with the punches every time, and the audience has just laughed *harder*. It’s beautiful. So, the curse, if that is genuinely what it is, has actually helped make Irma Vep an even better show.

I’m not a superstitious man about a lot of things, but the curse is one I’ve always faced with terror because I’ve seen its handiwork. Now, it’s not so scary. Especially since its most recent efforts to ruin the show have only made us look better. So bring it.

Bring it. Macbeth.