Being a nerd is hard work. In most cases, the work is purely mental. You need a well-muscled brain to remember, say, the name and backstory of every stormtrooper aboard the Death Star, or the various conjugations of the Klingon word for "disembowel." Yet some nerds want more. To prove their dedication, they are willing to break the traditional nerd prohibition on exercise; they want to make their fandom physical as well as mental.
Add Charles Ross to this rare breed. This weekend I watched the final performance of his "One Man Lord of the Rings" at the Woolly Mammoth Theater. Gandalf knows how many times Ross has watched the film trilogy. "More than one million" would be a reasonable estimate. How else to explain his uncanny ability to channel everyone from Aragon on down to the Panting Orc #6?
This was one-man theater at its simplest. No music, no props, no costume aside from a black jumpsuit. The lighting was minimal to the point of non-existence: white light, red light, rinse and repeat. Everything else, Ross had to conjure up with his voice and gestures.
A daunting task--but Ross delivered. He nailed Gandalf's grandfatherly baritione, Saruman's intimidating rumble, and Frodo's mewling whine ("Bitch, moan, whine," he added at the end of one particularly self-pitying dialogue). His pitch-perfect Gollum was accompanied by an equally perfect imitation of the character's slithery walk. Sometimes Ross was large, containing multitudes; when reenacting the orc horde marching on Helm's Deep, he played the entire army himself and even added the requisite marching-and-roaring sound effects.
If Ross was simply giving a faithful line-by-line recitation, then the performance would have been akin to recreating The Last Supper with jellybeans: impressive but pointless. The real enjoyment came from his additions to Tolkien's tale. One example: recreating the scene with Sam and Frodo atop Mount Doom, Ross gave a heartfelt reading of Sam's goodbye speech, paused, and followed it with "Are we gay, Mr. Frodo?" The audience hooted its approval.
Speaking of the audience...I was curious as to what kind of man or woman (most likely man) would pay money to watch a one-man Lord of the Rings. Answer: all kinds of people. Old people, young people, people in t-shirts and shorts and people in suits and ties. Men AND women. I sat next to a genial old guy who told me how he had gotten hooked on Tolkien back in the 1960s.
In conclusion, you ought to go see this show. Too bad it closed. Ah, well. If Charles Ross comes by your town with his One Man Lord of the Rings, or his One Man Star Wars, or the inevitable One Man Harry Potter, make sure to see it.
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