We spent the night with dancing vampires and lived to tell you all about it

Through January 27, Toronto's Great Hall will be doubling as Castle Dracula for Eve of St. George, a show that bills itself as "an immersive dance production" based on the Bram Stoker classic. That pitch has glamoured audiences in the past. This time last year, for instance, the troupe behind the production (Transcendance Project) enjoyed a sold-out run in the same space. So Lise Hosein and Leah Collins, the two members of the CBC Arts team most likely to wear black lipstick, attended a media preview Wednesday night. The following is a transcript of their pre- and post-show conversation.

Leah: Lise! Let's Drac chat!

So here's what I know about what's going to happen tonight. We're going to show up at the Great Hall for the Eve of St. George, and the play will unfold over the four levels of the venue. From what I understand, the audience will be free to roam around the space — so we can follow the performers around or just paw through the Count's sock drawer. Totally up to us. We'll be masked, too — which is kind of a relief, especially since it's media preview night, and I don't especially want to see my face in the background of a dozen photos. Let's stick together so we can compare notes after the show, but here's one thing to be aware of: we won't get to decide where our journeys begin. The evening's MC will be handing out envelopes with instructions on where we need to be for the start of the show. 

How are you feeling — like, "feelings" feeling — about what we're about to get into? Personally, I'm a bit nervous. I go to theatre to be a spectator, not to be part of the show, but I'm trying to keep an open mind.

Lise: Definitely also nervous. I always feel like the chances of me messing with the show are high. There are so many ways to do it: tripping, crying, trying to climb out the bathroom window. BUT I'm excited, in case that's not clear.

Leah: Note to self: identify all possible escape routes before the show starts. 

I'm joking, obviously, but I also don't know entirely what to expect. The play's described as being "immersive" theatre, which has become a real buzzword. Personally, my experience with the genre is a bit limited, but I've seen a few memorable shows here in Toronto that would fit the description.

A couple from the 2016 Luminato Festival really stand out for me, especially Situation Rooms by Rimini Protokoll — which was more like an immersive documentary film, to be fair. They'd built an elaborate set inside the Hearn, a multi-level maze, and the audience had to navigate the space through iPads and a whole augmented-reality schematic. There weren't any performers, but the show wouldn't work unless the audience was physically moving around the environment, which seems like a fair definition of "immersive." (I'm probably not giving it justice with that description, though. Just watch this.)

Oh! And Off Limits Zone by DLT. You've done several stories about that company, Lise! I think what they're doing is a lot different from what we're about to see in Eve of St. George, though. DLT's shows are a one-on-one experience. You're not watching a play with a bunch of people. Instead, you're the only audience member. That makes the possibility (the threat?) of interacting with the cast a whole lot different, I think. You're not performing for anyone. What are your thoughts on immersive theatre? When is it good? When is it bad? (Or when is it even fair to call something "immersive"?)

Lise: I agree with you. Sometimes "immersive" is a misnomer for something that's simply site-specific. I think one of the things that sets DLT apart from the "immersive" genre is that it's what Daniele Bartolini calls audience-specific theatre, which is meaningful because the term points to how the play conforms to you — not just to you making choices of which way to drive the plot, but that the play is unfolding around and because of you. To me, that's pretty immersive. And immersive theatre is challenging. As somebody who's a bit more introverted, I'm much more likely to dance or sing or paint if I'm alone with another performer. If there are other audience members around watching the interaction, I'm much more likely to faint or run away, even if they're wearing masks. We'd better be all wearing masks. Also, you will be my human shield.

Leah: Dammit, Lise! You were supposed to be mine! 

OK...why are we acting so scared of a night out with a bunch of dancing vampires? If I'm being honest with myself, I've said yes to seeing "immersive" shows in the past because I thought they'd be a little bit scary. The experience can take you outside of yourself a bit, and maybe force you to engage with a new idea or feeling. That said, corny dinner theatre can push people out of their comfort zones, too. I'm hoping for something more than a few cheesy audience participation gimmicks. If Van Helsing challenges anyone to a dance-off, I am out. 

Want to lay down some ground rules? What are your limits for tonight? Sounds as though the performers might be "interacting" with the audience, although I don't know what that means yet.

Lise: Alright. Setting limits is my area of personal specialization. 

I will: engage in psychological interaction, be brave about exploring places, looking at props or following people around. I will crawl under something if it does not look as if it will collapse on me, and invert that for higher things. I will actively listen and purposefully speak or be silent. I will not: jump, run, dance or get anything on my clothes. Because all of the above involves some level of embarrassment, and embarrassment is for improv, not immersive theatre.

I am also very much looking forward to wearing a mask, seeing a building I know in a new way and seeing vampires that are being advertised as "sensual." Sexy vampires are cool.

Leah: They're the only kind of vampires.

Lise: Uh...have you seen Nosferatu?

Leah: More like YESferatu. I'm getting off topic.

Lise: I'm Googling pictures of Nosferatu in a new way.

Leah: Everything you said sounds good to me. If you feel uncomfortable at any time, our safe word will be "Nosferatu."

Lise: No, that is entirely the wrong word now. Our safe word will be "Jerry Orbach."

Leah: I...don't want to know.

Lise: Please include this in the article.

With ground rules and a safe word established, Lise and Leah race away from the office to see Eve of St. George. Despite pinky swearing to stick together, they are mysteriously separated in the Great Hall's basement graveyard. Their conversation resumes the morning after.

Leah: Aaaaand, we're back! I don't think I had to say "Jerry Orbach" once all night. (Lennie Briscoe, R.I.P.) We survived the Eve of St. George. At least, I think we survived the Eve of St. George. How's it going, Lise? Ready to recap the experience? I'm thinking we could start right from the beginning. 

Lise: Yes, dark lord.

Leah: Let's talk first impressions. Pre-show, we had a chance to hang out in the main hall for a bit. We were given sealed envelopes (sorry, "invitations") and a little vial to exchange for a glass of bubbly at the bar. Clearly, they were going for a sort of lo-fi Sleep No More vibe.

Lise: Yeah, the pre-show was pretty much just that. There wasn't a ton of art direction visible, save the actors wandering around creepily slowly and they had bare feet. I met somebody's mom. I started thinking about whether murderers go to immersive shows and I got a bit privately worried about that for a minute.

Leah: You met somebody's mom? OK, we're going to have to be gentle.

Yeah, the space hadn't exactly been transformed, decor-wise, but with all the items and instructions we were given on arrival, I really started the night thinking that the experience would be very stage managed — and it wasn't, at all.

Once it began, the crowd was free to go where they wanted — but honestly, it took me longer than it probably should have to start poking around the building. I kept waiting for a signal to start exploring. That's probably my bad, though. Once I did finally start moving around the space, exploring the venue was one of my favourite things about the production. Transcendance has really made a point of using the entire building as their playground. There was always some kind of curious action going on wherever you wound up.

Lise: Wandering through the building in itself was kind of nice for me.I've been in that space so many times, but there were rooms I'd never seen. Like you, though, I wasn't quite sure when to switch rooms, and I wasn't sure if I was being encouraged to follow a character or narrative. There were few cues. (Note: I am awkward and did go to the wrong places at the wrong times enough that I was reprimanded a couple of times and it was totally my fault.)

Leah: You were? What happened?

Lise: I don't want to talk about it.

Lise: Where the freedom really worked for me, though, is that you could see a scene from different points of view. You could be directly in front of it or change floors and see it from above. You could hear the (minimal) dialogue from a scene as you were entering or leaving a room. And the use of score was overwhelming. It permeated the whole thing and made me feel very Dracula-y the whole time. Speaking of the Count, I also liked watching him fitfully sleep in his little coffin. Am I a creep?

Leah: Yes, but that's why we get along so well.

Lise: More on the topic of wandering the building: this production is dance-centred and light on dialogue. But if you know the story of Dracula, you catch on pretty quickly to who the main characters are and what's going to happen next, so people up on their vampire lore have a decent sense that a scene has ended and what the next one will be. And then they might follow those people. Or vampires.

Dracula looks like Joseph Fiennes. Just saying.

Leah: I totally agree on both points. Nobody wants to run into the Commander in a dark hallway. Genuine chills. 

About the subject matter, yes. Going with a story as well-known as Dracula is a smart choice. Personally, I'm better versed in Count Duckula than Dracula. But even if you don't know the book — hell, even even if you're not entirely sure which characters you're following — everyone knows enough about the myth to understand what's happening. 

That said, the show seemed to be more about setting a mood than anything else. Maybe that's because you risk losing different threads of the story as you poke around the building, but I think there's probably more to it than that. What didn't work for you?

Lise: I think that what didn't work for me was the simultaneous scenes. Because there was little to no interactivity with the characters, I did feel like an audience member in a very traditional sense. If the audience were directed through the piece — and the sightlines from the floor were made a little more orderly for the height-challenged among us — you could see all of the scenes and not feel as if you had missed a fundamental part of the experience.

So, I mean, in short, I think this is better described as a site-specific piece than an immersive one.

Leah: Yeah, going through some of the production photos, it looks like we definitely missed some scenes. 

Lise: Having said that, the performances were actually really beautiful (and vampires are super sexy) and I like fog, so it worked for me.

Leah: Swinging back to your point about site-specific vs. immersive for a sec, I'm with you. Before the show, were were chatting about what makes a show "immersive," and you're right, I don't think that's the right way to describe this one. All of our favourite examples were shows that involved people in some way that was crucial to the mechanics of the show. Maybe the whole structure of the show was engineered so that it wouldn't work without your body being right there. Maybe it was an emotional thing — like being engaged, one-on-one, with a performer. (I definitely saw some of the vampires leading people around the room, but that stuff seemed to be more about creepy crowd control than anything else.)

And that's all OK. I don't think that Eve of St. George is making any promises that it's going to explode everything you ever thought you knew about dance and theatre and vampire sex appeal. It seems like it's more about serving up an atmospheric, unusual night out. I mean, right after Drac's big dramatic death scene, the MC plugged the in-house bar. (A spoo-oo-oo-ooky plug for the bar, to be fair.) 

Also, like I said before, I'm more of a Duckula fan. This experience isn't going to be for everyone. Who do you think would love this show?

Lise: People who like: contemporary dance, masks, walking up and down stairs, Dracula, sexy becoming-a-vampire sex scenes, asylums, the colour white, the colour black and the tiniest bit of blood. Angelina Jolie will like this show.

Leah: Perfect. You've just described the CBC Arts audience.

Eve of St. George. Directed and choreographed by Julia Cratchley. Jan. 17-20, Jan. 24-27. The Great Hall, Toronto. www.transcendanceproject.com