In “Brewer’s Dictionary of Phrase and Fable,” the authoritative reference of all things mythological, there’s an entry that reads: “Incognito (inkog’nito) (Ital.). Under an assumed name or title. When a royal person travels, and does not wish to be treated with royal ceremony, he assumes some inferior title for the nonce, and travels incog.”
At the entrance to the Juggerknot Theatre Company‘s “secret performance location” for “Conjuring the King,” among the pasted-up tabloid pages and handwritten remembrances of Elvis Presley, there is a small note: “Joe West was here. He walks among his subjects incognito.” This is a mythic reference, although most people won’t recognize it; West was the tabloid writer who, as much as anyone, could take credit for inventing the Elvis sighting.
(Scott McIntyre for Juggerknot Theatre Company)
Audiences at the world premiere run of “Conjuring the King” get a special taste experience during the show.
Here’s the thing that most people don’t realize about Weekly World News and The Sun and all the wacky tabloids of the 1980s and ‘90s: Nearly everything in them was true … for someone. People would write in asking reporters to look into eerie encounters, unusual lights in the sky, million-to-one chances that had to be steered by a higher power and, of course, evidence that the murky and all-powerful “they” were covering up something they didn’t want us to know.
Reporters – most of them hard-nosed journos who’d spent years in politics or crime before heading down to Florida – would agree to look into it, ask a few amenable experts some questions and do their best to follow the first rule of tabloid: Don’t let the facts get in the way of a good story. Good stories have a life of their own, and if there are only a few facts supporting them, there’s still a lot of truth to be found. Sometimes a royal person travels under an assumed name or title. So it has been since ancient times, and so it will always be. The “king” could be among us even now.
This is part of the allure of “Conjuring the King.” It is not a conventional telling of an encounter with Elvis incognito; it’s an evening spent in close quarters with the kind of fan who would write in to a newspaper asking them to investigate if that stranger hitchhiking out on U.S. 278 between Tupelo and Zion was actually … could it actually be … I know he’s supposed to be, but if there was any way …
(Scott McIntyre for Juggerknot Theatre Company)
In “Conjuring the King,” June Raven Romero as Avery takes the audience back to the roots of her Elvis obsession.
The experience is designed to be intense and at times overwhelming. There’s a crowd of no more than 15, and there is no stage. Instead, you’re all welcomed into a series of carefully crafted living spaces, where you’re invited to peruse memorabilia, including the famous 1977 National Enquirer issue with the Elvis-in-his-coffin photo, which stays in its protective bag, thank you very much.
In true immersive fashion, you’ll also be asked to play a few notes on a piano, smell the perfume of the Mississippi magnolias, make the best peanut butter sandwich at a kitchen counter, sing along to karaoke and listen to Avery, the world’s biggest Elvis fan, narrate the highs and lows of a life of selfless dedication to a guardian spirit greater than any of us.
She is larger than life, yet she walks among us, and we all pretend to be members of a fan club. Yet, just by being here, we reveal the truth of that story. Who would be here who is not a fan – or at least, who doesn’t have the potential to become one? In the performance confirmation message, fan club members are encouraged to “wear their best Elvis look.” In this drama, the audience is no longer (or not just) an audience. It’s as if the “king” is allowing us to share a little bit of the limelight, and to feel the barest fraction of what it is to be a performer.
Playwright Dipti Bramhandkar chose the name of this dramatic experience carefully. It is about the “king of rock ’n’ roll,” with all the grandiosity and kitsch that title implies, but it is also equally about conjuring. There is magic here. At first, it seems a little like madness. There are a few moments which feel uncomfortably intense, as if we who agreed to stand in for the Miami Elvis Fan Club for the evening have been trapped in small quarters with someone truly obsessed.
(Scott McIntyre for Juggerknot Theatre Company)
CONJURINGTHEKING
In “Conjuring the King,” June Raven Romero as Avery takes the audience back to the roots of her Elvis obsession.
Both director Ana Margineanu and the actors who play Avery, June Raven Romero and Susie K. Taylor, succeed in flawlessly evoking a certain instantly recognizable kind of unfiltered fandom. But by the end of the evening, transformations have taken place. Higher beings have been channeled. Actual, literal rituals have been enacted, planting seeds of hope in what might be a grave, like the one for Elvis next to his twin brother’s marker on the grounds of Graceland or what might be a portal to a better world.
Elvis speaks to Avery the way Apollo spoke to the Oracle of Delphi, as a disembodied voice, an evocation, a summoning. We are constantly reminded that Elvis, still, has a kind of universal presence. The walls of each successive space we enter are crowded with likenesses of Elvis, instantly recognizable at all stages of his career. Elvis in Hawaii. Elvis in the Army. Elvis in “King Creole” and Elvis in “Viva Las Vegas.” You look up everywhere and see him in multifaceted grandeur. Elvis is an idol, in every sense of the word.
Like all real magic, “Conjuring the King” is not the easiest thing to describe and a good part of it is lighthearted fun verging on the silly. There are capes, shag carpet, pompadours and I did mention karaoke, didn’t I? There may even be shots of Elvis-brand Midnight Snack Whiskey, flavored with banana, peanut butter and bacon.
But like the tabloids at their best, the production takes its subject seriously. Song and costume are an important part of any ritual, and this one is thoroughly immersive. Rock 'n' roll will never die. The beat is as compelling now as it ever was. And as the late Mojo Nixon taught us, there’s a little Elvis in everybody.
Elvis fans, spread the word!
If You Go
“Conjuring the King” runs two shows a night, Wednesday to Sunday, through April 28 at 82nd Street and NE Second Avenue in Miami’s Little River neighborhood. The precise “secret club meeting” address is revealed after tickets are purchased at JuggerknotTheatreCompany.com for $81; $112.50 grants you entrance, one drink and Elvis swag.