Last night David and I went to see Evil Dead: The Musical. Three words, people: See. This. Show. Hands downs, Evil Dead is the best thing I’ve seen on or off-Broadway since I got to NYC. A wacky combination of Rocky Horror, Grease, and splatter-film, I don’t know when I’ve been so thoroughly delighted to see decapitations and limb amputations set to doo-wop and endless bad puns.
We were lucky enough to attend a performance packed with devotees of the Evil Dead film-trilogy, which if you are unfamiliar, are perhaps the best and funniest of the entire chainsaw, cabin-slasher, head-on-a-stick genre. Every time the lead (a Bruce Campbell lookalike) let loose one of the many trademark catch phrases from the movies, the audience howled and cheered. David and I were seated far enough back from the “splatter zone” to avoid the buckets of blood that squirted onto the audience from stab wounds, torn out organs and severed hands. Seriously, the entire first five rows were given yellow raincoats at intermission to protect their clothes from all the squirting blood. And they loved it.
All of the performers were just outstanding and they pulled off some rather grueling dance and fight sequences that left the audience gasping and cheering. David and I left singing the catchy opening number, Cabin In The Woods, resolving to buy the cast album. I’m definitely going to see Evil Dead again and again. (And most of the shows I go to, I would not, not even for free.) And it’s just occured to me that I’ve seen two musicals in the last three days. I may just explode into a rainbow of fairy dust and glitter.