Vampire

Vampire

Reviewed by Socks Whitmore
Fuzzybottoms Theater Co. at the Sherry Theater
Thru October 30

RECOMMENDED

Though this production is firmly entrenched in the gothic horror genre, sensitive theater-goers should be aware of an onstage sexual assault, violence, death and gratuitous amounts of stage blood.

Spooky season is in full swing, and the haunted holiday spirit has found its way into at least one cozy pocket of the NoHo theater scene—a hybrid play-dance experience by the simple name of Vampire awaits horror fans in the black box chamber of the Sherry Theater. In a world where witches and vampires have been at war for centuries, the streets of WWI London are shaken by the arrival of an unassuming young woman who just happens to be Dracula’s true heir. Resolving the internal power struggle of the Dracul clan (and ending the battle between their street gang vamps and the local apothecary witches) all hinges on finding a legendary item known as the Damphire stone… if they only knew where to look.

The first thing prospective audiences should note is that the front row seats are the designated “splash zone,” and it does live up to its name—over the course of two and a half action-packed hours, the cast bursts dozens (if not hundreds) of stage blood packets in epic sprays from all sides. The drenching commences almost as quickly as the opening scenes, which set the stage for writer-director April Littlejohn’s particular version of vampire lore: the tale of Adam and Eve turned on its head (somewhat differently from existing vampiric iterations, studied vampire enthusiasts may note), followed by the rise and fall of Dracula and his forbidden love affair with a female witch. The story from there follows his orphaned unholy progeny across vamp-slaying rampages, forbidden romances, hip-hop/trap dream ballets, and more.

Vampire is an unusual theatrical experience built for a niche but thriving population within the theater-going community, the gathered fans of dance fighting, supernatural romances, and straight-to-Tubi, B-list horror movies. Similar audiences might be seen circulating the off-beat, elaborately guerrilla productions found at Fringe theater festivals.

Much of the delight to be found in this show comes from an appreciation for the flavor of the genre, but a few tips of the hat must be given to the supporting vampiric performers. Kurt Merrill brings up the room with his impeccable comedic timing as the hypochondriac-turned-amateur Shakespearean, Boris, and Heather Boothby and Amanda Kaye steal the show as what this reviewer can only describe as sexy neurodivergent incestbians. The choreography throughout is intelligent, but the sensual tension of the couples’ dance at the Dracul Ball is especially striking. The generous amounts of multi-actor fight choreography in a fairly small space sometimes lead to a tangibly “staged” feel, but the performances of pain are particularly compelling across the cast; audiences can expect lots— lots —of gut-wrenching screams throughout the night. Snaps also go to the entire cast for pulling off the logistical marvel of dancing, acting, and juggling numerous special effects, scene after scene after scene.

The low budget, indie horror vibes are embraced enthusiastically, and the audience it’s meant for won’t care that they can see the empty blood packets on the floor or the prop heart sticking out from an actor’s neckline. But even with a crowd that clamors for cringe, there are still polishes to be made. The ensemble of dancers are rarely in sync, the instrumental underscore more than once completely drowns out actor dialogue, and the collective costuming choices may mislead the average audience member in their assessment of where and when the show takes place. Perhaps the romance subplots are supposed to feel contrived as part of the narrative aesthetic, but when no clear character chemistry emerges, they read as messy and unfounded. The venue’s spooky décor and inclination of their past programming towards shows of similar tones are a good fit for the piece, but the physical space is regretfully small for the size of the cast and the aims of the choreography—a shame when the choice to choreograph the post-show bows would have read wonderfully with a little less repetition and redundancy.

The self-aware absurdity of this theatrical bloodbath promises an entertaining evening for the right audience. Step inside the world of witches and vampires to laugh, gasp, and maybe even get splashed before spooky season slips away.

The Sherry Theater, 11052 Magnolia Blvd, North Hollywood; Fri. & Sat., 8:00 pm; Sun., 5:00 pm. https://nohoartsdistrict.com/noho-theatres/vampire/ Running time: 2 hours 40 minutes including one intermission