To intermission, or not to intermission?
That question can be predicated on more than a production’s length; a reprieve — or lack thereof — can also have thematic dimensions.
Case in point: Dead Outlaw. No one would question a two-hour runtime that includes an intermission, yet this new musical elides one. I’m sure the creators preferred the pace of playing it straight through, but the decision also intersects with the notion that, even though Elmer McCurdy’s body technically lived many lives, they’re all unified — undivided by an intermission.
There could have been a natural break between his mortal coil (Act One) and his carcass’ afterlife (Act Two) — which the text stratifies with the spoken labels of Part One and Part Two — but the show seems to want to reject the idea of a firm separation between the two.
Elmer’s story did not end when his life did, and those who exploited his bones for their own gain could’ve/shouldve treated his skeleton with a respect for its — his? — former humanity.
Write All Nite asked, and Dead Outlaw delivered.
A new musical about the story of a dead body used for other purposes: Dead Outlaw and Operation Mincemeat.
Write All Nite 