My Misterman experience
It was hot !
The weather.
Cillian’s play too, of course. But the first impression of London I got was the heat, burning my brain and sucking out my energy. Which was little already because of the tremendous excitement that constantly kept me in a state of speechless overwhelming. Quite energy-absorbing, this kind of excitement, I can tell…
Actually we were unbelievably lucky… with just everything. The weather, apart from the heat, was beautiful and at night it was nice and warm.
Meeting up with my forum girls was exciting already. To see these lovely people in the flesh who I knew only from photographs and thread-discussions was wonderful. And everyone of them turned out to be as nice and friendly as in the forum.
On Sunday we were doing a little bit of sightseeing through London. Starting from the National Theatre (oh my… I was shivering at the mere thought of Cillian having a matinee right at that moment!!) taking the tube, wandering through Soho (I think it was Soho… please correct me if I am wrong LOL) and “Chinatown”. The impression that planted into my brain the most was the enormous diversity of London. Sweet old buildings squeezed in between ugly modern ones… people from all cultures and shapes mixed up in huge crowds rushing through the streets and the narrow tunnels of the tube’s underground system… What a tempo, what a heat and what a rush!
Sunday evening and night, I and Valentina, we had the unforgettable pleasure to stay at Shamrock’s lovely home, enjoying her delicious Curry and meeting her sweet, talkative little budgies! After watching “Intermission” and increasing our looking forward to see Cillian in the flesh, we went to bed, dead tired.
And then, on Monday. THE day. Finally we were complete, having also Dulcemirita arriving and joining us. We were staying in a lovely, shabby little hotel with friendly staff, right beneath a housing complex calling “The Murphy House”. Was this hotel chosen by accident, Dulcemirita? LOL If not, then it was just one another of these little wonderful incidents that made our trip so special.
Dulcemirita, unbelievably, had arranged a meeting with Cillian through his agents!!! I still can’t believe that!! It was just amazing, breathtaking, surreal and wonderful.
On Monday afternoon we were still waiting for the details of the meeting. We were on pins and needles, as you can imagine ! And as we were lingering around the periphery of the hotel, eating a little something (I wasn’t really hungry, to be honest. I think you can understand
) Dulcemirita finally got the text message that made me nearly cry of joy and relief: Cillian will meet us AFTER the play!!
Finally, after figuring out what clothes to wear – decent and not too revealing but also light enough so that we wouldn’t had to sweat – we drove to the theatre with a taxi. Then we were stepping into the theatre, taking our seats. It was magic… In a few minutes we would see Cillian Murphy !! I was sitting next to Shamrocks, grinning and excited, one (or two?) row above us Dulcemirita, some seats further, Leyla and Valentina.
And then the safety curtain was rising… revealing Cillian, standing in the middle of the stage, breathing hard, dressed in an orange rain jacket, the hood wrapped and tightened around his face so that only his enormous beard was sticking out of it, giving the awkward impression of a grown up, beardy Kenny from Southpark. LOL
And then it began… That amazing, breath taking happening calling Misterman. Or … no, actually it was Cillian happening. Like a phenomenon with unfading energy he was taking over that stage. I am not experienced with theatre but if this isn’t one of the most fascinating stage designs that had ever existed, then I don’t know… And Cillian was using every part of it, was running and climbing and jumping across it like mad.
Sometimes he was even interactively building out the stage and adding some details to bring different scenes to life, was emerging a meadow with enrolling a pad of fake grass, was creating a café with spreading out a red and white checkered tablecloth on a table and “conjuring up” a cheesecake.
His different impersonations were genius, intriguing, hilarious, funny and breath taking. What Cillian can do with his voice, his gestures, his body language, his mimic, is simply amazing and the ability of a true, dedicated actor who offers every part of himself to his role and his performance.
And while playing these different characters he was always in different areas of the stage, which were, with the help of significant details only, illustrating the location. A simple chair creating a living room, some enlightened crosses in the back a cemetery, a shower suggesting rain… Simply amazing!
It was story telling at its best! The visual aspects and the design, the sound, the acting, the structure, the story… They just used everything possible to tell this story.
Misterman… The story of a young, ill-minded religious fanatic with a wrong view on the world and “good and evil”, desperately trying to fight the deadly sins in his hometown, but ending up being nothing but a sinner himself. That’s at least how I understood it. So forgive me if I saw something wrong in it. (I haven’t read the play entirely yet… only about half of it… stupid me.)
Thomas Magill… what a character…Somehow still a naïve child, funny and even sweet sometimes, but dangerous in his insanity. I felt disgusted by him at times, deeply sorry for him at others. Almost a bit like I experienced Pig in Enda Walsh’s “Disco Pigs”.
The stage itself… I had the feeling that it was also an equivalent of Thomas Magill’s mind… Rusty, dirty, rundown and stuffed with pieces of memories in each corner of it, captured by recorders, like voices in his head, recapturing everything he had ever witnessed… dogs barking from the outside and mysterious noises and knocking, making Thomas rage, and music suddenly playing, music that he couldn’t switch off, even not with covering his ears with teddy bears. Memories, voices, experiences bothering him over and over again…?
I know one thing: That I want to see this play again. To dive even deeper into this story and to discover even more of all the aspects and meanings of which I am sure Enda Walsh had placed them into it. I have the feeling that it is a deep story. Multilayered even. Deep, intriguing, fascinating and dark, like Thomas Magill’s mind.
Then, the end… Shamrocks pulled my arm. What? I was still paralyzed with awe… Ah! Standing ovations! Yes, sure, of course!! But – ah ! – one second of shock: My skirt was slipping up my thighs as I stood up. How embarrassing… eeek… I hope nobody saw it. LOL
Stunned like a deer who had just gazed into the lights of a car approaching, we all left the theatre. And the best encore was yet to follow: The meeting with Cillian! Excited as hell we were lingering around the stage door where Cillian’s agent told us to wait. Some pictures were taking, memories of us girls, the bunch of the luckiest Cillian fans ever…
Then, HE came in sight! Accompanied by his agent, he was stepping out of the stage door, dressed in blue and stripes, freshly shaved, his hair still wet a little. With our knees shivering we were approaching him, and believe me, my mind wasn’t really grasping what my eyes were taking in so easily… Cillian Murphy, only one step away from me! But somehow, he was so normal, so down to earth and so sweet and kind, that I didn’t have the impression of standing next to a “star” or a celeb, not one single time. He showed himself exactly the way he wanted to be seen as: Just a normal guy. Who happened to have a talent that made him famous...
Dulcemirita then initiated the handing out of presents and the introducing of us girls. She was so amazingly calm and confident and talkative!! It was just stunning.
“Nice to meet you,” Cillian said as he shook my hand with a firm grip, some strands of hair falling into his face, hiding one of his famous light blue eyes, his neck bended a little, like a shy boy meeting a stranger. My eyes were locking with his for one moment… magic! “Nice to meet you,” I returned. And while our feisty Southern European gals had the courage to greet him with the typical kisses, I just shook his hand. As a “cold”, reserved Northern woman and a shy girl myself I felt uncomfortable with sharing kisses.
Visibly tired from his exhausting performance and also seeming to be a little overwhelmed and intimidated by the amount of fans gathering around him (I think he and his agent didn’t expect so much other fans around the stage door at this point, for initially, Cillian's agent had arranged a meet and greet with us five girls and our two friends) but patient, gentle and very polite he was receiving our gifts, giving us autographs and letting us take photos with him to forever capture that moment of unbelievableness.
The everlasting topic about his height… what is there to say from my point of view…? He isn’t a tall man, yes. But he isn’t tiny or meager either. Not a single bit! He is very lean and muscular, giving the impression of strength and health and manliness.
As it was my turn to hand him out my presents – an original portrait drawing and copies of my “At Murphy’s Bar” comic – the surreal-ness of this moment had reached its zenith. His words as he looked at my “Capa-hair portrait”: “That’s very good.” Or something like this. Don’t ask me about accurate details, LOL I am happy enough that I didn’t faint at that moment. And: “I’m looking older now.” Believe me, if I was more nimble witted I would have returned with the words: “You still look the same.” LOL
As I gave him the comic then I actually was about to explain that I already sent him this a year ago and wanted to ask him if he ever got my fan letter from his agency. (I have the fear the didn’t got it…
) But there was such a crowd around us and also Cilllian’s agent was reminding us that Cillian didn’t have much time, so I just left it and gave him the comic with quickly explaining, clumsily and stuttering, what the comic is about. He said something like: “That’s actually very good!” I was in heaven! What a feeling… this comic, on which I spent so much love and dedication, is now in Cillian’s hands, the man that inspired me so much, hopefully raising a smile from him while he’s reading it.
Can’t wait for his reactions to all of our presents, like Cillian’s agent promised us he would give.
Suddenly, Cillian’s agent told us that Cillian had to go now. But I had no autograph yet!!! That’s why I took my Jonathan Breech drawing with me, to get it signed by him! I could have slapped myself… Because of the whole messy situation with all the fans wanting an autograph from him I missed my chance to let him sign my artwork. But – luckily! – as Cillian had disappeared, his agent quickly returned to gather all the things left we wanted him to sign. So in the end, I got my autograph! You can take a look at it in my personal fanart thread.
I really hope, we didn’t overran him…
I can’t deny feeling a bit sorry for him to be suddenly faced with so many fans. I can only express my deepest respect and thankfulness towards him for being so patient and polite with doing something he actually is not into that much.
After the magic moment was over, we were searching for a place to have a late dinner. Difficult thing, for even the vivid city London seems to be quite strict about serving dinner that late… Luckily we found a Pizzeria at the boardwalk of the Thames. And guess what we had for dessert? CHEESCAKE !!!
Staying one day longer, because my boyfriend was with me on this trip for we had the crazy idea to add a visit of the “Phantom of the Opera” musical, I let this amazing journey fade out with an English breakfast. AND brown sauce!
Also in my coffee, you ask? Oh yes, I simply had to!
Delish !!
(erm… no… not really… LOL)
) But there was such a crowd around us and also Cilllian’s agent was reminding us that Cillian didn’t have much time, so I just left it and gave him the comic with quickly explaining, clumsily and stuttering, what the comic is about. He said something like: “That’s actually very good!” I was in heaven! What a feeling… this comic, on which I spent so much love and dedication, is now in Cillian’s hands, the man that inspired me so much, hopefully raising a smile from him while he’s reading it. 
