![]() Midnight was count down by cast members dressed up as different numbers, and when a working clock that read “Happy New Year” reached its final “r,” several peacocked dancers in shimmering skivvies and flesh-colored leotards jumped up on what was previously the banquet table and proceeded to can-can. Neat trick, not having to pay $8 for a drink (as the usual scotch and soda in the cash-only bar in caberet will cost you).Īnd perhaps this was just something we missed during our first visit to the McKittrick, but did Sleep No More always have a hard candy emporium room, or was that just a special little kickback to the guests who paid $125 a ticket to come to the pre-show? (Those wanting entrance at 12:30 could make it for only $100…only $20 over regular admission price, but without the cost of having to be silent for three hours.) The males in our company had a delightful time stuffing their pockets full of hard licorice sweets, while the ladies–sans clothing holes to hoard things in–had to suffice by shoving a bunch of old mints into their cheeks and saving them for later like chipmunks expecting a cold front. (Anyone looking for a dubstep version of ragtime classics should look into hiring this gentleman for their next event he was marvelous.) It was a full fantasy played out on three levels of the hotel: besides the ballroom, bars were open in the faux-lobby “scene” room and in the cabaret that serves as the entrance to the show. ![]() A strange, Zoolander-ish DJ appeared from one of the box seats, piping in DJ-remixes of dancehall music…1920’s dancehall, that is. ![]() We shouldn’t have worried: Emursive and Punchdrunk have done nothing except usurp the expected, and when the audience was corralled into the ballroom at 11 p.m., it wasn’t just Macbeth’s body that dropped: suddenly, the drapery from one wall descended, revealing a fully-stocked open bar. ![]()
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