blue man

The tickets would have sold out with the guy right in front of me. I was prepared for this, and was already laughing at the irony when the line stopped moving.

Seller: “Excuse me, was he standing in front of you?” Me: “… I think?” Guy In Front Of Me: “Actually, I was hoping I could get three tickets.” Seller: “Yeah, this would be the last one.”GIFOM: “Ah. Right, thanks anyway.”

So it was that I ended up at the Briar Street Theatre tonight at 7:40pm, using what was almost GIFOM’s ticket. (7:00-7:15 was spent at a Corner Bakery in the loop, getting a sandwich – which was silly, because Belmont is full of quicker places, and also because the sandwich in question was destined to fall to the floor of the Jackson Street subway.)

Now, the odds of getting the last ticket sold are not so large, considering that I had to run to an atm beforehand to scrap together the appropriate funds. Combined with that, the chances of playing a part in the Blue Man Group’s performance is probably much smaller.

The theatre was decked out in the known Blue Man fashion. Pipes and cables and flexible ventilation tubing everywhere. Spheres embedded in the walls with water being sprayed inside from who knows where, massive incandescent bulbs illuminating wire figures set into the ceiling, reaching out their hands to the concert-goers.

The auditorium itself was set with the same motif, only with industrial-class toilet paper affixed in strategic locations. (I’d have more pictures, but the show’s introduction includes an audience-given oath to not take any pictures. That, and a friendly reminder to David Glenfeld, who is a little behind on his credit card payments. Just a little.)

Anyway. Sitting in seat P-1, reading my Playbill before the show. A woman (presumably the stage manager) walks up to me and asks, “Roughly speaking, how tall are you?” Without talking about how backstage works (because that would be poor form, pretty sure), I will say that an hour and twenty minutes into the show, a fish was shown. A fish, a print made from a blue-painted fish being slapped against canvas, and a red LED sign explaining that the latter captures the life force of the fish in question (since deceased). At this point, a very bright spotlight hit seat P-1, and a surprised white male, roughly 5’11”, was duly escorted to the stage. One of the Blue Men touched his face, left a mark of blue paint before putting him into a white suit and a black motorcycle helmet, and then taking him away from the audience’s view.

A video feed, labeled ‘live from backstage’, showed this poor fellow being hung from the ceiling by his feet, painted blue, and then slapped against a canvas – presumably to capture his life force.

I’m not sure what happened next, mostly because my head was then encased in a large cone of red jello and wheeled back onstage. (The rest of my corporeal self was placed in a black wooden box beneath the head, thus sidestepping the need for a really ridiculous amount of jello.) The Blue Men tore the jello away, granting me sight, and raised my hands in triumph. Apparently the bodyprint standing next to me was just that awesome.

The rest of the show was equally incredible, if not more so for being able to see everything without looking through red gelatin. I heard someone describe the experience as ‘glorious euphoria’, and that’s probably accurate. The Blue Men proper manifested the spirit of wonder and exploration, and coupled with a slightly awkward approach and inspired aural/visual production on the part of the crew, it was… yeah. Amazing. Go see the show.

The final number was essentially a massive rave. PVC, strobe lights, black lights and the aforementioned industrial toilet paper. Streams of the stuff flying out over the audience, being carried forward to the stage by everyone present. Pipes flying in circles overhead and the Blue Men pumping music through the suddenly very living air. (Strobes + black lights = persistence of vision at its best.)

This video is from their How To Be A Megastar 2.0 tour, part of which was included in tonight’s performance. … Not this part (probably for the best; ticket prices would have been insane), but it’ll give you an idea of what I’m trying to say.

[ video missing ]