Rediscovering Bogosian resulted from the vacuum that nature sometimes needs to fill. Tony McCain, a bartender at Herbie's who'd engineered the Gong Show nights there, confided he was taking over as General Manager at a new place in the Central West End to be called Nathalie's. It was in the space formerly occupied by several restaurants and on the 2nd floor of the building was a jewel - a miniature night club, perfect for cabaret and smaller shows. I'd had my eye on it in previous lifetimes, and Tony and I agreed that the time and place was right for theatre there.
I flashed on Bogosian as the perfect vehicle for a sophisticated, urban setting, and as I dove back into his work, was delighted (and occasionally appalled) by how funny, how strong, and how appropriate his vicious satire still was.
(Bogosian's solo work was far from irrelevant. He had performed 100 MONOLOGUES - 10 different monologues every night over several weeks off-Broadway - and then built a website - 100monologues.com, where he brought several actor friends in and filmed them doing their own versions of his monologue. He also published 100 MONOLOGUES in book form, and friend Brooke Edwards - who was in town to direct QUILLS, which played opposite SEX, DRUGS - saw him at a book event this past summer, and brought me an autographed copy.)
So the hunger to do present his work again grew, but the space went away. Tony didn't last long at Nathalie's, a fire at the Nathalie farm restaurant complicated things, and theatre just didn't seem to be in the DNA of Nathalie herself.
While I was commiserating with myself over an adult beverage at Herbie's, I learned there was now a sole owner there - Aaron Teitelbaum, who'd himself been an entertainment producer before the restaurant biz. He understood what a show could do to bring in new people to his place, and Sex, Drugs had a home.
I'd done two shows in their wine cellar space under the previous regime of Balaban's, so I knew where to start.
I had to start with a new director, however. Herbie's had an opening in the first few weeks of August, when partner and collaborator Sarah Whitney had her annual family trip to Florida. I scouted directors and saw a Slightly Askew production of BACHELORETTE, a fairly hard-hitting contemporary comedy. The director was Rachel Tibbetts, and from that show I knew she not only could handle Bogosian's rough stuff, but also had the skills to help my performance and and to help make the show work.
The rehearsal process was seamless, and the run was, occasionally, thrilling. The August time period may have cut into the prospective crowds, and, as expected, none of the local theatre crowd could be bothered to drop by, so some crowds were less than expected, but reviews were stellar, and the final show - a full house mix of ages and walks of life - was a knockout and everything I expected this to be - Bogosian's furious, funny words bringing this small room to boiling, roiling life and squeezing every bit of life and air out of it.
Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll Perks Up the St. Louis Theater Scene with Brilliant One-Man Show
by Malcolm Gay
River Front Times
Oh, come on!
Does the Midnight Company really expect us to spend 75 minutes listening to the fevered ramblings of the aging, vain, brutish and drug-addled misanthropists that populate Eric Bogosian's Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll? Do they really think we'll enjoy — nay, be "transformed," to use one of the character's own formulations — a paranoiac's theory about "The System"? A glib rocker who's come to terms with his own "brilliance"? Or the Hobbesian malcontent who spits that our world is "held together by gross sentimentality and hypocrisy"?
In a word? Yes. Yes, they do — all that and more.
Directed by Rachel Tibbetts and working with a slimmed-down version of Bogosian's ferocious script, Joe Hanrahan leads the audience on a one-man tour of these largely despicable men — refugees of the drug-fueled 1970s who were scattered to the wind like so much shake weed during the blustery Me Decade. Less a play than a piece of performance art, Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll is brilliant, savagely funny, discomfiting and wildly different from most offerings you'll see on St. Louis stages these days.
Bogosian's script maintains its power to provoke, thanks in part to playwright's muscular writing, which traffics in those stygian realms many of us visit, but precious few ever mention. It's also due in large measure to Hanrahan himself, a gifted actor who delivers a thrilling, multilayered performance as he uses only the sparest of props to bring these characters to life.
Performing in the wine cellar of Herbie's Vintage 72, Hanrahan first appears as a recovering addict, homeless and collecting cans. Or is it bottles? Don't make no difference, he assures, he's just trying to earn enough scratch to buy the occasional egg-salad sandwich.
From this humble opening, Hanrahan quickly sets the mood, transforming into one of the show's most provocative characters — an emcee who challenges the audience on its very decision to go to the theater. Maybe you think you'll be transformed, he taunts. Maybe you'll be moved? Yeah. Maybe. But more likely his blood, sweat and tears will have all the impact of a Twinkie gliding down your GI tract en route to the toilet. What does he have to do, he wonders, die onstage? Boy, that'd really make you think — you know, as you text it to a buddy.
No, family theater it ain't. The show is caustic, brutal, scathing and in your face. It is also hilarious, as Hanrahan moves through Bogosian's catalogue of characters, many still reeling from the narcotic excesses of the 1970s. There's the aging rocker — an inane Brit who stands in gilded relief to the homeless man — delivering an anti-drug message while regaling an interviewer with drug-steeped tales of sexual conquest. There's the motivational speaker who makes the case for greed as a means toward happiness, and the self-serving therapy patient who wonders how his ex-wife couldn't have seen how all those late nights out were in fact a "cry for help."
Of course, if it stopped there, Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll would make for only a mildly uncomfortable night of theater. As it is, however, Hanrahan (and by extension Bogosian) doesn't patronize the characters. He doesn't talk down to them or give the audience some knowing nod to the flaws being paraded onstage. Rather, he presents them as they are (or at least as they perceive themselves), compelling the audience to enter the characters' worlds on their own terms — often to frightening effect.
Originally written in 1990, Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll can't help but feel slightly dated at times, for instance as the aging rocker references "We Are the World" while plugging his ridiculous charity to send electronics to Amazonian Indians. Still, the script has been updated and localized with references to iPads and Ladue, while earlier mentions of Dan and Marilyn Quayle have been elided all together.
Unsurprisingly, some character sketches are more successful than others. But each is engaging (or at least brief), and in sum they take you on a journey that — while it may not leave you transformed — will certainly make you think.
Interesting characters and gritty tales of excess are the heart of 'Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll'
by Tina Farmer
Joe Hanrahan's The Midnight Company, known for its intimate productions and one-man shows, delivers another satisfying work with its production of selected monologues by Eric Bogosian in "Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll." The show feels fright at home in the wine cellar of Herbie's Vintage '72 in the Central West End, and Hanrahan expertly fills the space with rundown, but blissfully hopeful, characters.
A nearly empty stage, containing just a bar stool and small table with a few props, is the setting for an evening focused on character and dialogue. This simple set provides all the background and props Hanrahan needs as he guides the audience through a variety of deeply layered and deftly personified monologues examining contemporary life, human nature and the long term results of striving for that elusive, everlasting high.
Whether the high comes from drugs, sexual conquests, the pursuit of money or the adoration of a crowd, each character is still searching for satisfaction and contentment, and finding it harder and harder to achieve. Hanrahan winds his way around the monologues, lingering on details, pausing as he struggles to recapture a fading memory, a feeling of elation that he can no longer reach.
Throughout his performance, Hanrahan creates nuanced characters, finding significant but small differences among characters with a similar backstory -- an aging rock star, an over-the-hill, hard partying drug dealer, a wealthy music executive who needs bigger and more expensive toys -- each of these men have gaping holes through which they experience the world. Yet each retains a certain dignity, an essential humanity that compels them to continue reaching for something more. The result is poignant, sometimes sad, stories that reek with human frailty even as the men puff their chests with false bravado and limp assurances.
In an ironic twist, it may be the opening character, a homeless man living just looking to cash in enough bottles and cans to buy an egg salad sandwich and cup of coffee. The coffee is optional at this point, he mentions to the audience on several occasions. At his current pace, he gets a meal about every other day and, though his health is failing more than he is willing to admit, the character is both pleasant and positive, valuing what he has more than what he lacks. It's a lesson the other characters could use.
While it is Hanrahan on stage, Rachel Tibbett's firm, straightforward direction is clearly evident; when combined with Joe's continuous exploration of character this is a good -- potentially great - pairing. The characters are more distinct, more interestingly distinguished, and the monologues more clearly separated than in other Midnight Company shows I have seen. As an audience member, I appreciated the balance and intensity of the performance and would like to see the two of them work together again.
I also found the contemporary references, including new stories, technology and social media that were sprinkled throughout the monologues. They helped to keep the show fresh and, when contrasted with some of the tales of stars now considered classics, set the period well.
One small problem for me was how nice, clean and new Hanrahan's costume was. While the style was suitable for the majority of the characters, the outfit simply looked too freshly laundered and not nearly worn enough for the majority of the characters performed. A minor detail, I easily got beyond, allowing me to enjoy an evening of nostalgia mixed with a touch of both hedonism and wisdom.
The Midnight Company's production of "Sex, Drugs, Rock and Roll" runs through August 17, 2014. For reservations or more information, visit the web site.
Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll'
by Ann Pollack
St. Louis Eats and Drinks
"And who carries around an egg salad sandwich in their pocket?"
That's a sample of dialogue from "Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll". It's Joe Hanrahan, our own Man In Black and leading local purveyor of author Eric Bogosian's works, in the opening monologue of this 75-minute spree. This particular fellow is a street person who collects bottles "and cans! - mustn't forget, cans, too!"; nine other individuals follow the bottleman's appearance, all in the form of Hanrahan.
This is surely an actor's eqivalent of a couple of hours of cardio exercise, no breaks except to throw on a jacket or remove a hat, no one to bounce lines off, just the actor, the lights and the audience. It's intimate, as all Hanrahan's one-man shows are. He's using the cellar at Herbie's Vintage 72, and that makes it easy for the audience to bring a glass of wine or a cocktail down with them. In fact, one thoughtful guy brought his female companion an order of the chocolate fritters, a signature dish of the restaurant - they did, however, manage to finish them before the performance began, and thank you very much for that, sir.
If you aren't familiar with Bogosian, the title should give you some clue that strong subject matter is at hand. He has little sympathy for few of his characters except the bottleman. Despite the play's being more than twenty years old, it's held up well, with a few minor changes - I'm pretty sure Bogosian's original script didn't refer to Schnuck's. Whacks at religion, greed, self-aggrandizing self-help, celebrity, all pass under his gimlet eye.
It's rough going, not very cheerful, although quite funny much of the time. And anyone who can get humor out of some of these situations deserves plaudits. Hanrahan doens't miss a beat. At times one has to remind oneself that this is the same guy that a few minutes ago was being the divorced father talking to his therapist. Voices change, facies change, Hanrahan remains.
Funny, yes, but like much satire - because that's what this is, essentially - it's tough stuff. No intermission; just head upstairs for a good stiff drink and avoid looking at the baseball scores.
Review: Hanrahan Brings 'Sex, Lies, Rock & Roll' Characters to Desperate Life
BY: CHRISTOPHER REILLY
In the 20 plus years since Eric Bogosian first performed "Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll" in New York—a string of monologues that together tell the story of the downtrodden, the has-beens, and societal renegades—it hasn't lost any of its relevancy. The mass of men are still leading lives of quiet desperation, even more so now. In the current production playing in the cellar at Herbies, Joe Hanrahan steps into several characters like a second skin and takes the audience on a frequently funny, impactful trip that allows all of us to look at life from a different perspective.
Joe Hanrahan stars in "Sex, Lies, Rock & Roll" Courtesy of The Midnight Company
Hanrahan is no stranger to Bogosian's work, and his familiarity with the style of material benefits him here. Moving easily from one character to the next with the simple addition of a coat or a cigar, Hanrahan transitions from, for example, a homeless bottle collector—"or cans…bottles or cans…doesn't matter"—to an aging rock star (who, in his own way, is scavenging for nickels and dimes) without missing a beat. The show delves into the hypocrisy of America's class system and the economic exploitation that keeps the rich and privileged on top and the poor and desperate down. The American dream is more illusion than reality, the play suggests; a mere carrot dangled before the mule-headed populace.
Director Rachel Tibbetts and Hanrahan have created an evening of compelling theater that prods the audience to consider how we ourselves interact in this world that fails so many. Are we even on the side of the divide we think we are? Is it all just a flip of the coin? The cellar at Herbies is a great space for this show; small, intimate, the audience captured in Hanrahan's magic web, even as the characters are captive in their less-than-enchanted lives.
Hanrahan doesn't condescend to his characters or make fun of them, but rather portrays each with deep sincerity and a sense of fair play. It would be easy, after all, to make them hollow characters and play them as exaggerated cartoons, but Hanrahan never does. Instead he presents each as a fully-realized human being that we can feel empathy, concern and alarm for. The homeless bottle collector who inhabits the first scene of the evening puts his unwashed finger on it: "Underneath it all," says the man, "we're exactly the same."
"Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll" runs through Sunday, Aug. 17. For tickets and information visit The Midnight Company website.
Base Men Comprise Bogosian's 'Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll': Theater Review
by Mark Bretz
Story: Playwright Eric Bogosian presents 10 vignettes featuring urban and suburban men in modern-day America in this one-man, one-act, 75-minute venture into the male psyche.
Highlights: Joe Hanrahan, whose Midnight Company was the first troupe permitted to present The Worst of Bogosian, is a whirl of manic energy in this one-man tour de force presentation. Hanrahan, who has performed several of Bogosian's works, is in his element, the solo format, as he presents 10 or so characters who preen, pontificate or prattle about their often sordid lives in a free-flowing dramatic discourse.
Other Info: Hanrahan has refined and polished the art of the individual theatrical performer, as evidenced in this tight and terrifying journey into America's often shallow heart of darkness. Guided by Rachel Tibbetts' well-focused direction in the cozy basement performance space at Herbie's Vintage 72 restaurant, Hanrahan extracts all of the venom and vitality in Bogosian's rants to exhausting effect.
Actually, the very first character we meet is the nicest, although he doesn't have much competition. Bottleman talks to us about life on the streets as a homeless person, but he isn't angry or bitter or discontented. He mildly complains about the price of coffee ($3, when it should be $1), but he's at peace with himself and his surroundings, foraging for bottles and cans and the deposits that keep him in coffee and egg salad sandwiches for another day.
From that pleasant interlude we're introduced to a number of sleazy, greedy, vapid, self-centered hedonists who think first and foremost about themselves. There's the brain-zapped rock star whose years of drug abuse and sex orgies have given way to his delusional attempt to hold a Benefit performance for natives along the Amazon River "who don't even speak English." He promises that a full "20 percent" of proceeds from the concert will be used to buy 'stuff' for the natives, such as iPods, lest it be wasted on health care or education.
Red is a rambling discourse by a drug-soaked, motorcycling hanger-on who lives with a stripper ("She thinks she's better than us") and tells a visitor a harrowing story about a Vietnam vet comrade and friend who once asked Red to kill him if he ever 'sold out.' Given that the man now lives in Ladue and was embarrassed by Red's behavior at a recent pool party, Red thinks it's time to honor that request. It's a chilling look at a wasted individual about to turn violent.
There's an hilarious piece called Inner Baby in which a driven dude rants on about feeding one's 'inner baby' and satisfying selfish desires to keep that child happy, regardless of the consequences inflicted upon others. And an Artist who has bitterly denounced the world and proclaims that he's now keeping all of his artistic creations within his mind so that they aren't corrupted by the world.
A pompous tycoon in Live vulgarly proclaims his quest to have the best in everything, sneering at people who 'waste' their money on their kids or some altruistic claptrap, and a frenzied preacher who extols a road to salvation that seems more hollow than hallow.
Through it all, Hanrahan seamlessly changes personae with a nod or the removal or addition of a garment or hat to introduce a different character. Bogosian's men are usually nasty and ill-tempered or at least lacking in philanthropic impulses, and Hanrahan is adept at capturing their meaningless existences.
He's also adapted Bogosian's 1991 script to suburban St. Louis with a number of references, although a rock star and a tycoon don't really 'fit' with a Midwestern city as easily as they would in Manhattan.
The primary problem with Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll is that it's more of the same, for the most part, with each character. Thus, it can be monotonous at times.
By the end of this 75-minute excursion into excess, however, Hanrahan is dripping in sweat and the audience doubtless feels better about our own lives, and perhaps superior as well. Except to the Bottleman.
Joe Hanrahan sketches sad, angry men in 'Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll'
By Judith Newmark
Written and originally performed by Eric Bogosian, "Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll" introduces us to a handful of characters, each with his own a point of view. In the Midnight Company production, Joe Hanrahan brings a sharp edge to each sad, angry, urban man.
Less a play than a series of character sketches, the pieces ignite each other, like little flames making a blaze.
Some sketches are surprisingly funny, and some are more effective than others. A hungry bum, collecting bottles to make a few dollars, and a dope dealer infatuated with his own loony sense of honor are particularly vivid, evoking whole worlds on the nearly bare "stage" (the basement of Herbie's restaurant). The long rant about God — which boils down to, "If that's how He treats His own son, what makes you think He cares about you?" — is kind of sophomoric, but the witless divorced man complaining to his therapist is a marvel of self-delusion.
Under the direction of Rachel Tibbetts, Hanrahan defines each character with the simplest of props: a leather jacket for an egotistical rock star, a cigar for a rich, smug man. The rich man, we eventually realize, used to know the dope dealer.
Those little moments of interlacing are a nice touch; so is the decision to substitute St. Louis place names for ones in New York, a courtesy to the Midnight audience. Less of a courtesy — the live music that began upstairs before the Sunday-night show ended. Hanrahan has always been open to exploring alternative theatrical spaces, a big, imaginative plus. But he needs to have it to himself.
One Man, Many Faces at the Midnight Company
Snoop's Theatre Thoughts
by Eric Bogosian
Joe Hanrahan is one of those actors with a particular talent for playing multiple characters in the same play, and one-man shows are a great vehicle for this. Unlike the Midnight Company's last production, Solemn Mockeries, which told a cohesive story, Eric Bogosian's Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll is more of a collection of monologues with related themes, providing an ideal showcase for Hanrahan's skills and allowing for an evening of outrageous and sometimes dark humor that's sure to make the audience think as well as laugh.
The show is mostly an examination of consumerism and selfishness in modern society. The happiest guy in the show is the homeless bottle collector in the opening sequence, who's content with his bottles ("or cans–no difference" he says)–which he recycles to make a little bit of money–and the occasional egg salad sandwich. Most of the other characters in the play are selfish, greedy, culturally ignorant and sometimes downright hostile. Self-help philosophies get parodied in two segments, and misguided charity in another. All the elements of the title are there, as well as a cynical take on religious belief and musings on the purpose and importance of art and creativity. It's gritty, irreverent, and unquestionably funny, with jokes ranging from lighthearted to sarcastic to outrageously dark. It's an ideal vehicle for a versatile actor like Hanrahan, and he makes the most of every opportunity.
Hanrahan does a great job with the various characters represented here. He's great with comedy and some of the darker moments, with a good range of voices and accents (with help from dialect coach Pamela Reckamp), from the aging British rocker staging a benefit concert, to the Southern motivational speaker trying to help his audiences get in touch with their "inner baby". With energy and charisma, Hanrahan manages to hold the audience's attention through the course of the play even when portraying some of the more unsavory aspects of his characters.
Hanrahan and director Rachel Tibbetts have done an excellent job of presenting this show in just the right context. The basement room at Herbie's Restaurant in the Central West End is an excellent venue for this play, with the small performance space giving the show more of an interactive vibe. and the use of props and various quick-change costume elements is excellent as well. The play, written over 20 years ago, has been updated here and there with a few references to current events and St.Louis settings, thrown in to add to the overall atmosphere and accessibility of the piece. It's all very timely,with the focus on self-actualization and self-help (which can be useful or misused), as well as conspicuous consumption in today's consumer-driven society. It's a relatively short play, running just over an hour, although that's plenty of time to be introduced to this wide-ranging cast of characters all played by the same guy. Some of the characters are appealing and some are scoundrels, but as presented by Joe Hanrahan, they're all worth listening to even if it's just to make us think.
'Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll' challenges in all the best ways
Written by Robert Nickles
Venue: The Midnight Company
Director: Rachel Tibbetts
The glitzy, mirrored staircase into the wine cellar at Herbie's provided a fitting portal into "Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll," a one-person play written by Eric Bogosian and produced by The Midnight Company. With gritty, memorable characters, veteran performer Joe Hanrahan led his audience on a journey of unsettling self-discovery.
Before the show even began, props scattered onstage stood out against the posh surroundings : empty glass bottles, cans, a straw hat and a handful of drug paraphernalia. Rock icons of the 60s, 70s and 80s played in the background. After an initial blackout, Hanrahan shuffled onto the stage in army fatigues and wearing the wide-eyed innocence often seen on the faces of homeless men and women. "I'm not a complaining kinda guy; I like to stay positive," he confessed, easily winning the audience with his endearing affection for egg salad sandwiches and a not-asking-for-much demeanor.
Bogosian's script seemed determined to serve up cognitive dissonance to audience members who had in mind "a nice piece of theater." The homeless and possibly mentally ill opening character was replaced by a string of more successful but deeply distasteful ones determined to do whatever puts them on top. Among the most popular strategies: sex, drugs, rock and roll.
Comic moments ranged from light banter to black humor. A therapy-junkie blamed everyone else for his troubles and reported "I've learned to respect my needs;" a motivational speaker shared three core values of "happiness and joy and ecstasy." A drug dealer detailed his plan to murder his former drug buddy for "selling out."
Hanrahan's solo performances were winsome and believable, despite the characters' insistence upon justifying their own narcissistic lifestyles. I felt comfortable in my ability to follow the social critique -- the soft-impact realization that I know the type, I get it, I live in this world -- until the closing solo, a guy smoking a joint in a straw hat, riffing on "the system" and our complicity in it.
Queue self-doubt for anyone with a pulse.
"If everyone knows everything then nothing means anything, and everything's a cliché," he mumbled. "That's why I stopped making art." Thankfully, the vehicle for so much conviction was itself a piece of art. Leaving, I found myself both challenged and equipped for engaging in the arts (and in life) in a more intentional way.
What could have easily been a heavy-handed lambast of escapist American lifestyles came across as a thoughtful, compassionate, and entertaining character study with sturdy sociological undertones. Rachel Tibbetts' thoughtful direction was much evident, as was the technical support of Stage Manager Linda Menard and Dialect Coach Pamela Reckamp. Thanks to Hanrahan's sensitive and thorough preparation for each role, the entire production walked a line that was often shambling and clownish, but also spot on -- neither outrageous nor spiteful, but full of pathos and true comedy. Not an easy task in front of St. Louis gentry in a posh restaurant on a Friday night.
"Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll" ran through January 4th. For more information on future productions, you may call (314) 487-5305 or visit midnightcompany.com.
Post-Dispatch names Joe Hanrahan Best Solo Performance in a Comedy
By Erica Smith
Among the tales of quiet desperation, there's "Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll" written more than 20 years ago by Eric Bogosian.
"He speaks to my generation," actor Joe Hanrahan told "Cityscape" host Steve Potter on Friday. "He grew up at the same time. He speaks, especially in this show, to the rock and roll life. To the pleasures it offers and the pitfalls. To him, it represents America: Both the things that we think of ourselves and the things that we do."
Hanrahan stars in the one-man show, which has been updated with topical references and features a series of monologues about a group of quirky but often downtrodden men.
"All of these men, we describe them as driven and desperate," said Hanrahan, who also is the co-founder and artistic director of The Midnight Company. "What's interesting is that these characters are kind of jammed up against each other. I think for an audience it's kind of like 'Who's right? Who's wrong? Who do we admire? Who do we have less sympathy for?' There's a dark side to every character."
The characters include a homeless man, a former British rock star, an actor, a man in therapy, another who talks about the things he buys, a small-time pot dealer and a self-help guru.
"I think there's something in the show to offend everybody," Hanrahan said. "There's moments when people get uncomfortable. I'm so close to the audience, I can tell. I'm talking about something, whether it's religion or sex or drugs and I can see people stiffening up. It's like they either are offended or they just don't want to admit that they know what I'm talking about."
One-man shows are not new to Hanrahan. His first was another Bogosian play, "Drinking in America."
"It's challenging in terms of just work and preparation and endurance in a sense," Hanrahan said. "As an actor, I never thought of doing a one-man show. When I started doing them, there were no one-man shows."
Since "Drinking in America," though, he said he has kept finding good scripts, many from Bogosian.
"Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll" is an encore performance, open for only three shows this weekend at Herbie's Vintage 72 in St. Louis. Hanrahan originally presented the show in August 2014.
Revised: October, 2007
© The Midnight Company