Audience makes time for epic wishing at 11/11 No Shame

Mike Todd
Staff Writer

Nick Bonadies
Spectrum Editor

The absence of yet another proposed apocalypse at 11:11:11 this past Friday, Nov. 11 (11/11/11) was greatly appreciated by all VCU students who attended that evening’s No Shame Variety Show, which began at 11 p.m.

Instead of the onset of the end times, the audience at Shafer Street Playhouse prepared itself to make the “most epic wish ever” – as designated by the official Facebook event page, which by the big night had collected more than 1.6 million attendants.

After Lance Kelley’s slam poetry, which protested the midnight removal of Occupy RVA protesters from Kanawha Plaza in late October, received a chorus of finger snaps from the audience, No Shame emcee Kyle Raiche was interrupted by audience members checking times on their cell phones: “There’s two minutes left!”

A flurry of giddy, breathless chatter erupted in the audience as students awaited perhaps the single moment in their lifespan when their silent wish-thoughts – transmitted to an abstract recipient entity or perhaps simply broadcasted to the greater cosmos – counted most.

An audience time-watcher, when the moment arrived, shouted: “Now!”

Silence gripped the room. Many held their breath; many more crossed fingers and, possibly, toes.

For a long, silent 60 seconds across Eastern Standard Time, countless wishers wished in tandem with the No Shame audience.

An audience member checked her phone: “It’s over.”

The crowd, as well as its emcee, exhaled collectively. A moment had passed that many in the crowd had Facebook-agreed to attend years in advance.

And thus the evening continued.

Justin Ahdoot and Amber’s musical improv was a set so overwhelming to their audience that the crowd, in mid-verse of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” ceased the performance with standing applause when it became evident that neither performer actually knew the lyrics.

In his performance of “The Scotsman,” self-accompanied on the house keyboard, Nick Berkin told the tale of two Scotswomen who happen across a drunken Scotsman and lift his kilt to settle whether rumors concerning the man’s anatomy are true.

Berkin received a standing ovation. “That was really awesome,” emcee Raiche said. “That was really fun.”

“I’ve got balls,” Raiche added. “I’m a bowtie-wearing man. Don’t laugh – I’ve really got balls.”

Erica Messenger, a freshman theater student, preceded two original poems with her personal favorite, Tim Burton’s “The Melancholy Tale of Oyster Boy.” Messenger’s second original poem – which opened with “Dear self-esteem, you’re fired” – was Messenger’s confessed first attempt at slam poetry and, by the reaction of the audience, her first success.

A duo calling themselves Manly Man took the stage to treat the audience with a performance the first song they’d ever written, “Song No. 6,” from their newest album, “Untitled No. 4.” The performance – in which Manly Man took on the characters of a hippie named Sparrow and her younger sister – ultimately resulted in the younger sister’s traumatic smackdown.

Matt Johnson’s performance left audience members literally in the dark as, taking the stage, he requested the lighting and sound booth leave the lights off.

“I said leave the lights off,” Johnson, when the technicians attempted a dimly-lit alternative, screamed. “You (explective!)”

Lit only by glowing red exit signs, Johnson relayed to the audience an odyssey of self-discovery.

“I squatted naked over a mirror, and I saw inside myself,” he said in performance. “I tried to chew what I found, but the truth wouldn’t let me.”

Some audience members, seized with laughter, rocked in their seats; some were in tears, others were unable to breathe, and others were highly disturbed, if not all of the above. One audience member asked for clarification as to Johnson’s sobriety.

Foreign Exchange, a student improv-comedy troupe, embodied audience members’ most-favorite and least-favorite family members in their Thanksgiving-themed skit, including such notable characters as the cousin who writes human sexuality textbooks, the child masturbation addict and the girl who dropped a steak knife on her own foot.

The “Armada” saga, starring heroes Dark Chocolate and Gingersnap, continued in three new installments featuring father-daughter abuse, Matrix-remniscient fight scenes and a new character who saves the protagonists from yet another instance of near destruction.

Perhaps the most somber moment of the evening occurred when one “bro” turned down the double-popped collars of his fellow “bro,” slain in battle, as a sign of respect.

As always, No Shame reached its close with roasts of recent Shafer Playhouse productions, including “Bar and Ger” and “[vampire] Medea,” the latter including an appearance by 1998 vampire hunter Blade to slay Medea and her minions.

As of press time, it is not known whether any wishes made at Friday’s No Shame Variety Show have come true.