Accomplice: The Next Majestic

Came across a new "interactive" theatre experience currently being offered in New York City that (according to its own website) is "part game, part theater and part tour". It's called Accomplice: New York, and over the course of three hours you--along with seven other people--are sent on a scavenger hunt of sorts across the city, meeting all sorts of interesting characters on your quest.

Not for the passive, it calls for teamwork, an ability to walk briskly and puzzle-solving skills. The "characters" are actors that have been hired to make things more interesting. At $50 a person it's far cheaper than most decent seats at a typical Broadway show, but you had better bring your walking shoes.

It seems to be the "next level" of interactive theatre, but it actually reminds me very much of a relatively short-lived experiment EA Games brought out in 2001 called Majestic. The premise is similar to that of Accomplice, in the fact that you get pulled into it via interaction with interesting, often shady characters. (Majestic dealt more with a sci-fi, conspiracy theory theme instead of a trek across NYC, but I digress.)

Majestic didn't fare too well with gamers, and September 11th pretty much sealed its fate. I was interested, but I never got a chance to play it so I can't say whether it was any good. Accomplice might have a better chance, mainly because the action takes place in real time rather than over the fax lines and through email like Majestic did. At any rate, it's always interesting to see new branches of theatre emerging.

Play Time

I was speaking with a friend of mine last night--a Stanford student who was lucky enough to land an internship at Google. (We're talking brilliant--this kid thinks up math games just for fun.) We got to talking, and I mentioned how I was working on a new stage play. As it turns out, he has some friends in the theatrical field at Stanford whom he might be able to pass my scripts along to.

It's not often I get such a generous offer from someone, so of course I let him know I was interested. Especially Stanford, the university that's first on my list for med school! As with all offers of exposure I'm well aware it may not go anywhere, but at least I'll have pursued it.

Now I just have to get my you-know-what in gear and polish off the rest of my script before that offer evaporates.

Goodbye, Joe

On March 9th, the chairman of the Drew University theatre department, Joe Patenaude, passed away from a heart attack. The university held a memorial service for him in April, along with a concert to benefit his daughter.

Only I didn't know any of this until I got the alumni magazine in the mail.

How do I feel about this? I mean, how the hell am I supposed to feel? I know that, as an alumna for several years, I'm already once removed from the campus, so it would follow that I don't always know everything that's going on there.

At the same time, this dredges up memories of when my friend died during Spring Break and I didn't know until after the funeral. In fact, I didn't get the email that came out and only found out when she didn't show up for the Latin class we had together. I felt cheated (and guilty) for not being able to attend her funeral, and I feel cheated (and guilty) for not attending Joe's memorial service.

If I remember this right, he got the chairman position a few years ago because he wasn't around during the vote (and no, that wasn't a joke.) Joe and I rarely saw things eye to eye, but I respected his passion and conviction about his work. I also liked him as a friend and human being, and spoke with him on a number of occasions after graduation. We would meet by accident at the local library or bookstore and catch up on life. I offered my sympathy when he told me his wife had a brain tumor, and my condolences when she passed away last year. (I never had the chance to tell him my father would also be diagnosed with a brain tumor that December.) He was so proud when Drew put on a production of the musical Urinetown, and when I didn't even have enough money for my father's ticket he told me not to worry about it. He was always honest, and that isn't something you can say about many people.

And what about his daughter, Emma? I don't remember how old she is, but she must barely be a teenager. She's lost both parents in less than a year. Out of all my muddled feelings, I feel the sorriest for her. Poor kid didn't deserve this.

I still haven't written anything on his condolence page yet. Right now I've had so much pain and fear in my life I'm not sure I can.

Goodbye, Joe. Thanks for being a part of my life, if only for a few years, and for actually listening to this department misfit even when I couldn't understand myself.