Just Beyond

Remember, Dad and I are both working late tonight.

Dinner's in the fridge, 350 for 20 minutes.

You excited about that field trip today?

ELLA'What a beautiful theater.

I don't think I've been back there since...

Yeah, since we took you and Zoe to see Annie.

That was such a fun day.

You two girls belting out "Tomorrow" on the way home.

And your dad went and got those magic beans

and put that awesome beanstalk in the backyard.

-I was listening. -Oh, she speaks.

It's a miracle.

Oh, hey, there's Zoe now.

-Mom, what are you-- -Wait, I...

I was just gonna say hi.

No. No, me and Zoe aren't friends anymore.

Yes, I know you're not as close as you used to be...

We're not close, period.

She's all about her clothes, and the tennis team,

and her amazing new bestie.

Listen, I'm... I'm sure that's just a phase and--

I don't wanna be friends with her.

I just...

I don't know, let's not talk about Zoe anymore.

Okay, love you.

MS.Okay, guys, listen up. For your performance pieces,

it can be a... poem,

it can be a monologue.

It can be a movement piece,

just so long as it's about you.

I want you to lay your souls bare.

MS.Okay?

Now, for today's field trip.

As theaters go, the Fox is hallowed ground.

So, I expect everyone to be on their best behavior.

I'm gonna do an interpretive dance about Alan.

That's my tortoise. I named him after Alan Turing,

you know, like the father of AI.

My Alan's smart, but not like Alan Turing smart, obvi.

Do you have pets?

-I have a dog. -MS.Ella and Sydney?

Do you mind chatting some other time?

Oh, not at all.

MS.Um, okay. Off to the buses, everybody.

Um, Ms. Cornish?

I was wondering if I could write something

-and submit it to you-- -Uh-uh.

This is a performance class.

Everybody performs.

Off to the buses.

Come on.

Every architectural detail

was painstakingly recreated after the fire of '38.

All based on the original blueprints which, if you care to see,

are on display in the upstairs lounge.

-So boring. -Sadly, the fire claimed

the lives of an acting troupe

that was rehearsing at the time.

Behind me, you'll see a tribute to their memories.

-Ella's been staring. -Speaking of which,

who here likes ghost stories?

If you join me in the theater,

I'll tell you a ghost story that will make you shake in your shorts.

She keeps staring.

It's rude to stare.

I wasn't staring.

Kinda were.

But I wasn't, I was just looking at something behind you.

What? Was it a ghost?

It's said the spirits of these dead thespians

haunt the theater to this day.

Legend has it, they're looking to pluck the living

and drag them into their phantasmal acting troupe...

forever.

Late at night, their wailing can be heard emanating

from this very stage.

During a 2014 production of The Music Man ,

the lead actor was so spooked, he quit the show.

I won't divulge his name.

But it rhymes with Keil Datrick Tarris.

TOUR GUIDE Could that be them now?

Oh, and what's this?

Unfinished Business ?

Why, that's the play they were rehearsing.

It appears the ghosts wanna hold auditions.

Who among you is brave enough to risk winning an otherworldly role?

The young lady down front and...

you in the back.

Why don't you join us?

Um, I, I have to go to the bathroom.

I'm sorry, I can't.

Keep it together, Ella. Keep it together.

MS.Keep moving!

Hey, stop fighting!

-Sam and Noah, really? Come on. -She said what?

Stop fighting!

Come on. Come on.

Hello?

Hello?

Sorry, excuse me, I was on a field trip when I got lost.

What on earth is that racket?

We have a visitor.

It's a girl.

I'll say.

Can she see us?

Of course, she can see us.

Why else would she be terrified?

This isn't happening. This isn't happening.

This isn't happening. This is a dream. Please be a dream.

You can see us, can't you?

A bit of a mumble mouth, isn't she?

No worries.

We'll have her transformed in no time.

No. No, please, please, please, do not turn me into a ghost, please.

I meant transform you into an actor.

You see? That tour guide.

Always making us out to be the phantoms of this forsaken opera.

We're dead, sweetie.

But we're not scary, really.

I'm Rosie.

That's Vivian, and...

Raymond... hi.

Hi.

I suppose I... need no introduction.

Uh...

Oscar Anderson.

Oscar was in a bunch of movies before they had sound.

Or decent actors.

What'cha doing here all alone?

Um, I'm not sure. I, um...

I was, I was scrolling through TikTok,

and, and then I was listening to a podcast.

I don't know, I, I must have fallen asleep.

I mean, now my phone's dead, and I don't have an adapter

so I can't reach anyone but...

Anyone follow that?

I heard "phone".

Wait a minute.

You...

I recognize you.

Yeah.

Yeah. You're, you're those actors.

The ones that died in the fire.

Yeah, we're them.

What's your name?

Ella.

Ella.

Well, tonight, you're Agnes.

Someone find her a script.

Eighty-two years stuck in limbo and we finally have a full cast.

We can rehearse our show the way it was meant to be rehearsed.

Here she goes. Stand back.

As actors, we are heirs to a sacred tradition begun by the Greeks,

handed down to Shakespeare, and entrusted to us.

"The show must go on" isn't merely an expression,

but a promise that we will persist in even the most...

Hello?

It's everyone. They say we get it.

We're getting married this weekend in Tahiti.

Well, it's about time.

You've been together a whole week.

Do I detect a note of jealousy?

-Do I detect a note of jealousy? -Oh, um...

Can't we all please stop fighting?

No!

Bigger!

They have to hear you in the nosebleeds. Again.

Can't we all please stop fighting?

No, you stand up straight.

I...

Oh, forget it.

I'll show you.

Viv, what are you...

-You want to project like so. - You want to project like so.

-Can't we all please... - Can't we all please...

I don't want to.

-Don't fight it, dear. - Don't fight it, dear.

-Can you please stop this... -Viv!

Leave the girl be!

-Fine. - Fine.

Well?

Go on.

Can't we all please stop fighting?

I don't...

I'm not an actor.

It can't be.

What's happening?

Run!

Ella!

It's been decades.

I thought we were done with it.

Done with what? What is that?

We call it "The Critic."

Because only a critic could be so cruel.

I can't believe it's back.

Probably couldn't bear another minute of Oscar's overacting.

But why tonight?

Think it's because of me?

That's the only explanation.

We've got to get her out of here.