Review: BLOOD/LOVE at The Crimson

Vampire stories are about as eternal as their undead subjects, which means they’re always ripe for a revisit or a reimagining, and the new immersive rock musical BLOOD/LOVE in Hollywood is a welcome addition to the collection. An immersive experience just next door to the Bourbon Room, the show is sexy, sultry, and spine-tingling in equal measure.

The show focuses on Valerie Bloodlove (Carey Sharpe), who is not just a vampire but the original vampire who is suffering an existential crisis after thousands of years. Feeding off humans and living a life for pleasure and only pleasure no longer fulfills her. When she meets mortal Anzick (Brennin Hunt), a new golden boy musician at the gothic Crimson Club that appeals to a vampire clientele who is grappling with his own humanity, a Romeo and Juliet–style romance unfolds.

Love among the undead is never easy.

The BLOOD/LOVE experience begins as soon as you walk through the front entrance into an antechamber set up like an ornate library, but an ornate library with a bartender creating signature craft cocktails and a DJ spinning low-key tunes, setting a vibe that carries into the main theater space with sleek reds and blacks. The central room isn’t large, but director and producer Daniel LeClair makes use of all of it, the bar (with vats of “blood” and faux animal skeletons), the various stages, the stairs, the aisles threading through the seats, so that you’re not just a spectator to the show but almost complicit. It’s a great example of how to put on a big show in a smaller space, despite the fact that part of the stage is at floor level, so unless you’re in the front, you won’t be able to see much of the action that takes place there.

At a brisk 80 minutes, the rock opera flies by in a flash of opulence and sin, with electrifying lighting by lighting designer Tom Sutherland, setting a perfectly sensual and spooky atmosphere, all reds and blues and purples, spotlights dazzling the eyes. The costumes by Michael Ngo are sexy and spectacular, all leather and chains and studs. And there’s a stunning loveseat, which is practically the only furniture from scenic designer Ethan Tobman (who earns his pay simply by that one piece), which can look deep purple, dark red, or midnight black, depending upon the lighting. The whole thing has the ambience of a dark version of Moulin Rouge.

The performers are all committed. Hunt plays Anzick as a real navel gazer, a caricature of self-absorbed male musicians who take themselves far too seriously. Valerie’s hedonistic besties, Cleo (Erin Boehme) and Demetrius (Cam Anthony), who try to woo her to remain on the dark side, add humor and darkness by turn. Daniel Franzese is ideally sleazy as Banks, the proprietor of the Crimson Club. A fantastic three-person choir backs the whole production up, adding depth and majesty. The only drawback is that some of the sound is tinny through the performers’ microphones. In such an intimate space, it might have come through better with no mics at all.

A live band is off to the side, providing fantastic accompaniment to the 25 new songs by Sharpe and Dru DeCaro with additional music by Boehme and Adam “Snake” Kobylarz. Sharpe and Hunt provide more than their vocals, too; she plays electric violin, and he plays electric guitar to sensational effect. Some of the songs pop more than others, but there’s never a lull. “Everything Leaves a Mark” is a banger; “Humans Are Boring” is a chuckle because we certainly can be; and “Every Little Drop” gives Boehme an opportunity to really … vamp.

Choreographers Jonathan and Oksana Platero put their dancers through some serious hurdles, some gasp-inducing, as they contort and drop and twist in front of spectators’ eyes. But they put their money where their mouths are, as they are also two of the featured hoofers and Oksana, in particular, really raises the roof with her performance.

The show is sexy and reeks of sex, there’s romance and drama and suspense and sex and dance and comedy and more sex. It’s a sultry ride, and any rough spots can be overlooked because the joie de vivre is so infectious and there is so much talent on display. When the show concludes, there’s even a moonlit after-party in the Atrium, the Crimson’s nightclub out back, where you can snap a photo of yourself on that extraordinary loveseat. Where you can sip a cocktail and try to cool down after the steaminess inside. And where you can maybe pretend that you will live forever, too.

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