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Many Happy Returns (A-)

Julie Cohn’s interactive theatre show will offer a refreshing break for anyone getting tired of sitting for most of the day. The audience are ushered in to the intimate Society Clubhouse in small groups (they open the door on the exact start time, and no earlier, so if it’s hot or raining make sure not to show up too far in advance). You are then given the mission: we are a group of time travellers, and we’ll be going back to a 1926 New Year’s Eve speakeasy in which we must retrieve ten historical artifacts – or stay trapped in a time loop. The first half hour is for us to socialize, get drinks (you pay for them at the bar, but there’s also water on offer and bottle refill station). Then Cohn brings us back in time after emphatically explaining: don’t grab objects, DEFINITELY don’t grab the actors, and never talk about time travel club. You need to get to know the characters, figure out what they want, and charm them into trusting you. It’s about connection, and it’s about trust, and it’s about working together. Which all sounds great, but I’m not sure the 4pm slot on what was (I hope??) the hottest day of the year was the best time to see it. In the final thirty minutes I was connecting the most with the other over-stimulated introverts who were gravitating, glassy-eyed, towards the edges of the room. And while Cohn’s gentle encouragement for us to rejoin is understandable (it does take a group effort), I would have appreciated if the show didn’t require such constant socializing and participation. Perhaps another actor or two, or perhaps slightly fewer audience members might have helped the overwhelm of noise, or allowed for smaller groups to form. Having said that, many participants enjoyed it immensely, actively generating various theories and strategies with each other. Oh and in case you didn’t get the memo: 1920s attire is strongly encouraged, and helps you get into the vibe. This run is already sold-out, but there will be future versions so keep an eye out if it sounds like your thing.

My Life as an “Inspirational Porn” Star!  (B)

Gabrielle Leonore’s solo show about growing up autistic is charming, insightful, and consistently funny. She details her life from a toddler more fascinated by ants than games, through being targeted by other kids and teachers (like receiving condescending prizes for being ‘extraordinarily gifted’ for hitting neurotypical baselines). Her developing interest in acting was no surprise given her real life (and dating) often feeling like confusing auditions (or god forbid: improv). The story could use a bit more structure (she basically details her life up until the present), and would benefit from fewer sound and lighting cues (to tone down distractions), especially since Leonore’s presence is so captivating. Even when she reaches for or flubs a line, she charms us with her jokes (her pun game is especially on point).

Fray (B-)

If any of my fellow elder millennials out there want a deeply unsettling flashback to our childhoods, this one is for you. Writer/director Robin North’s dark comedy is about the ways we get tangled up in our parents’ baggage, and how smothering those dynamics can be. Meg, a miserable teen, is waiting to hear back from colleges, while Rose, her mother, reminisces resentfully about her lost musical theatre days, sneering that she gave up tango and smoking for her daughter. The father avoids most of the action by hiding behind his paper, insulting his wife and occasionally flying dangerously off the handle. Melanie Pyne’s music and dance interjections are very funny and the acting is engaging, but the production repeatedly hits the same three notes for forty minutes, never really getting anywhere. I take it that was North’s point, but I would have preferred catharsis over nihilism.

El Jefe (D)

If you took one look at the poster for this and thought ‘oh man, another white boy ‘I’m actually a member of a Mexican cartel’ aspirational masculinity time travel extravaganza’ then you would be correct (and impressively clairvoyant). Old Ryan – aka El Jefe – has gone down a dark path following his Olympic loss, getting pulled into the cartel life while gaining power and notoriety. When Daniela (the proverbial refrigerator woman) is taken by ICE (or killed? or some secret third thing?) he can’t take his own devastation and white guilt and goes back in time to either help Young Ryan win the Olympic Gold and change history? Or to just kill him? Or maybe just live peacefully alongside him while offering sly stock tips? The two actors are clearly charismatic but the storyline makes as much sense as a piñata at a cartel shootout,  held together with clichéd gags and sexist jokes (the elder chastises the younger for saying ’pussy’ but upon being asked his body count, he says ‘oh I thought you wanted to hear about all the bitches I’ve banged’). With the rise of troubling explorations of masculinity (e.g. Adolescence, or the current horror hit Obsession) there is a lot to explore about the contradictions in masculinity, but this play does none of that.  My feelings about this show could be summed up in a line the young Ryan screams near the end: ‘I just want some fucking vulnerability!’ Same, my dude. Same.