“FREE THEATRE OPPORTUNITY”
I read in all-caps and bold lettering on the homepage of my Advanced Theater Google Classroom on Tuesday, Oct. 7. The title followed with a brief description of an event happening the night after the announcement was released, The Muckenthaler Centennial Project, an opportunity to experience an immersive theater show. Best of all, since I was attending as a test audience, it was free.
The performance is set around the 1920s, and the audience interacts by moving around the “stage,” which is really just a building, to try to piece together what they see from the props and actors to construct some sort of a story.
However, one of the actors I met afterward told me, “If you’re still wondering what the plot was, you missed the whole point.”
In hindsight, while I was not able to watch all the characters’ interactions and dialogue and figure out a complete plot, I understand that the point of the performance is its execution, the audience’s engagement and involvement in the narrative and just to get a glimpse into a world, as if going back in time.
I had only heard about the company, The Electric Company Theatre, in passing when my friends would go to their shows in the past, so I had no information on it besides what my theater teacher, Christian Penuelas, wrote in the announcement. I had never heard of an immersive show, in which the cast could interact with the audience while in character, so I was very interested; however, I thought twice before deciding to attend.
For one, it fell on a Wednesday, a school night, and I didn’t know what homework I would have and if I could even finish it before the show. I also didn’t want to go if I would be the only person there from my class.
When I got home from school, my mom told me to think carefully about each class to see if I had any homework. I was pretty familiar with my teachers’ work and teaching styles, so I figured I had enough time to finish and also be able to attend the show.
At 7 p.m. sharp the next day, I excitedly slipped into the white archway of the theater and entered the patio, where a man with a newsboy’s cap and glasses greeted me. In character, he briefly gave me some context on what was going to happen that night, saying the “lady of the house” was very cautious of her son’s health, so as a guest, I needed to keep a cloth mask on and make sure not to approach the actors or talk to them unless they did so to me first.
Then, a little boy came up to me, his hands fanning out a deck of tarot cards as he asked me to pick one of them. The cards divided the attendees into different groups, and as soon as I took mine, I turned to see some of my classmates from my theater class were also there. I quickly slid into a seat next to them and we compared cards, which each had a picture accompanied by a title on the top like “Death,” “The Lovers” or “The World.”
My classmate invited her other friend, Nora Kelly, who happened to have the same card as mine, to the show. Our cards, labeled “The Fool,” were yellow with a masked woman who looked at us while facing the right side of the card. As she showed me hers, I let out a sigh of relief, grateful I knew at least one other person I could walk into this unknown experience with.
An actress dressed as a singer, in a glimmering long dress, sang from one corner of the patio. When she finished, she stepped forward and reminded us of the rules of the performance. She then had different actors step forward in accordance with specific tarot cards, and instructed the audience members with the same cards to follow them into the building where the experience would take place.
I followed a bespectacled actress with a 1920s-style pink dress who led Kelly and I into the building. As soon as I crossed the threshold, I entered into a completely different world.
The air was foggy, and music played in the background. At the same time, I could see different rooms, including a vine-veiled alcove with crates, a detective’s office and a mansion’s living room that peeked through the winding hallway surrounding a garden made up of fake grass, shrubbery and a fountain.
I felt a rush of excitement go through me. I always loved escapism and could easily immerse myself in the worlds of fiction; however, this time, I was physically set in that world.
I loved watching the actors up close, dipping my head into different scenes and closely examining the props. It all reminded me of those third-person video games, where the player can watch the characters in a story and occasionally interact with them.
As I moved through the rooms, the actors danced and interacted with each other, creating a story that I could observe. Kelly and I watched as a maid cleaned the stairs while a butler approached her. She cupped his cheek and they lovingly danced together — then abruptly split apart as an older maid brought them to attention and briskly told them off with a glaring facial expression.
In another area, a short woman, in a long dress, a straw hat and glasses, stood outside a room arranged to look like a bar, with a man inside cleaning a counter and placing bottles behind him on shelves. As we approached the woman, she called out to us, staring into our eyes and warning us not to walk in there but to resist the temptation of partaking in the devil’s elixir.
As I stood watching two men play cards, a maid approached me and handed me a silver dish. Surprised, yet also honored that I was singled out, I was brought out of my spectating and felt myself shift into the world as a character of my own. She led me towards the men and asked one of them for the cup of tea he had. Once he put it on the platter, the maid led me as I carried it to a shelf of other dishes.
All of a sudden, the actors led each audience member to the area covered in fake grass, and we surrounded the bubbling fountain. Then, they started singing and dancing around us to conclude the first part of the performance. The song was upbeat, and some of the actors invited audience members to join them and used uncomplicated moves like slowly turning around or swaying their hands to the beat of the music, so we could enjoy it along with them.
My classmates were led away to dance with the actors as they smiled at each other. Unfortunately, I wasn’t chosen to dance with a character, but I was just as happy watching the spectacle before me.
Once the actors finished their song and returned the chosen audience members from the dance, they led us outside for an intermission, and I excitedly discussed with the other theater classmates what we saw and the actors that we interacted with. One of my friends danced with an actress, and the other was given a newspaper to read.
After what felt like an hour of waiting, a fortune teller character stepped forward and announced that we would enter the same building again and see what the cards had in store for us, alluding to the tarot cards we were first given.
This time, I had more of an idea of what to do and kept an eye on certain actors, making sure to really think about how they interacted with each other, the props and the audience. An elderly man introduced himself to me as an architect and told me about the history of the building, and a flighty woman walked past me as she smiled and showed me a paper with a note on it that said, “I quit.”
As soon as the second part began, it ended, and the actors led us to surround the fountain and sang their last song, about the mysteries and happenings in life. I felt surprised that the time had passed so quickly, but also disappointed because I wished I could stay longer in that world.
While watching, the actors took us around the fountain and positioned us near them as they sang the last verse. With the butler’s hand on my shoulder and the maid’s arm around mine, I stared across the room, past the fountain, to the other audience members and cast as they sang the final note in unison.
Outside of the building, I reflected on what I had just experienced. I had never been to an immersive theater performance before, but after this one, I knew I wanted to do it again. This show is perfect for any thespians who love getting swept up in the action, as well as mystery fanatics who love piecing together a story.
Ticket prices for the Tuesday, Oct. 14, through Wednesday, Nov. 5 performance cost $45 and can be found on the Electric Company Theatre website. “Platform fees” apply to each purchase.
