Dr. Rocket’s Twilight Carnival
Reviewed by Vanessa Cate
Nocturnal Fandango
Closed; To Recur Indefinitely
RECOMMENDED
It’s midnight. I pull up to a series of worn buildings and homes on a dark street in the heart of Los Angeles. The address was sent to me earlier that day, but I don’t know where I am. I have been instructed to look for a woman in black. I approach a stranger, unsure. She directs me past a parking lot to a garage. There is a man waiting there, sipping a Slurpee. “First time?” he says.
This could be the setup for a drug deal or a criminal scandal. Instead, it’s the story of one sleepy theater reviewer going to see an immersive show on a Saturday night.
Nocturnal Fandango’s Dr. Rocket’s Twilight Carnival is comprised of nine half-hour pieces taking place in various locations around the city. Although it would be much more convenient if they were all more centrally located, the reasoning for the specific, disparate locations is clear; rather than trying to fit each narrative into one warehouse, the creators decided to fit each piece to a location that best served the storyline.
The immersive style of Nocturnal Fandango intentionally blurs the lines of reality and fantasy in an attempt to create extreme situations that audience members may never otherwise experience. Each piece is performed for a single participant. So although the man sipping the Slurpee could just be any man from the outside world (you enter the garage with him and one other man that pulls up late), he and everything else are included for and tailored to the audience’s immersion.
Out of the nine pieces, I experienced two: Shenandoah’s Mockingbird Garden and The World’s Last Spacecake Planetarium. Nocturnal Fandango productions are written and directed by Kevin Davidson, Chelsea Morgan, and Jason Davidson. However, because of the nature of the piece, much of the dialogue is improvised by the actors, a young and staunch ensemble fully committed to their hyperreality.
Detailing plot points should never be the focus of a review, nor is it possible to broadly summarize one of these pieces because of the very nature of its personalization. Every audience member will react differently, say different things, make different choices. So ultimately the experience is, in some ways at least, more like an RPG than a traditional stage play. Still, the personalized experience is the point, what you as an isolated audience member experience and conjure in the hands of the ensemble is the great takeaway.
Shenandoah’s Mockingbird Garden takes place in a barely lit garage in an alternate reality in which people are forced to couple, or face death. As you sit on a small couch, wedged between the man sipping a Slurpee and the guy who drove up late, a woman instructs: “Go into the other room, take off your clothes, and perform penetrative sex.”
To set your mind at rest, no, I did not perform penetrative sex with an actor in a Los Angeles garage. I was given the opportunity to take off my clothing based on my comfort level — I was not required to. With the first man I stayed fully clothed (he wore underwear). With the second man, we both took off our shirts, and cuddled. I am aware that some of the Nocturnal Fandango shows include greater levels of nudity and, I have heard, sexual simulation on the parts of the actors, and at times levels of physical contact with the audience. However, I did not experience this. Nocturnal Fandango also sends viewers a questionnaire beforehand, to get their consent and surmise their comfort level.
The physical intimacy with a stranger in a suspended disbelief is something that could easily entice or repulse an audience member. “You’re a good cuddler,” the Slurpee drinker told me. But these heightened experiences are only part of what you get out of the performance. I was being led to make an important choice, and that decision is where the artistry comes in. The show, set simply in a garage with nearly no lighting, with three actors, a couch, a blanket on the floor, and a Slurpee, ultimately revealed to me my own thoughts on love and survival. As I left the garage, I wondered if I should have done something differently, or if I could use this lesson in my own real-life relationships.
Less poignant but more fun, The World’s Last Spacecake Planetarium takes place in a sparse home, ravaged by an apocalypse thought to be brought about by unseen aliens. Inside the house live two colorful survivors: Sweet Pea and Providence Potter. They lead you through a series of tests to determine whether or not you are infected with whatever disease brought about the end of humanity. It is when another visitor arrives that things become a bit more intense, and you are once again asked to make a choice.
In a theater landscape where “immersive” is a sexy word (one that is often overused by producers hoping to capitalize on the form’s current popularity), Nocturnal Fandango is undeniably that. The group is young, and that lends a vitality necessary for such brazen work. Over time, their work will no doubt refine further; design elements in particular could be improved upon, as production details could add even more to the experience. For instance, if you’ve survived in a post-apocalyptic situation for months or years, you shouldn’t look like you’ve just enjoyed a clean shower. Detailed texture might elevate this show into a place fixed somewhere between fever dream and exceptional theater.
Nocturnal Fandango, performed in various locations around Los Angeles; Closed. www.nocturnalfandango.org. Running time varies.
