A Suffocating Choking Feeling @ Omnibus Theatre

Tricky to write about this without giving it away. . .

The play exists in an interactive live stream as well as in front of the audience, following an aspiring musician through her efforts to gain a following online and build her career. As it unfolds, we are called upon to question what is real and what is not, along with the ethics of the performative world of social media and how images can be manipulated to achieve a desired result.

There is a lot to like about the ideas and provocations in the play, yet somehow despite touring across a number of cities and festivals since it was first developed during Covid, for me it still felt like it struggled to show me a reason that the live elements needed to exist, rather than the performance only existing online. I think there is opportunity to make these differences more apparent, as the production was strongest in the moments where it did so, with deep honesty about itself and what it was doing.

The Investigator - Yukon Digital Theatre Collective

The Investigator is one part digital performance, one part choose your own adventure novel. Positioning the audience member as the leader of their own story, the experience leverages the choices and judgements of the audience in their first-person-player capacity to drive the narrative. You can choose to participate with audio, visual, or both components, however the experience is crafted to work with any of these. The use of font as a character signifier in the written elements was quite effective, although some of the fonts may have lacked readability for those with lower vision (although to be fair, there was an audio option available in this case).

There was a playful yet sinister element to the experience, culminating in questions about your choices. The many paths were cleverly devised by creator Wren Brian, and following my first outcome I was compelled to try another to see what other options and outcomes I might manage to elicit.

On the whole, this was an inventive experience well worth your time.

You can experience the production here - for free!

A show in two mediums; Thoughts on Cyrano

Early March 2020, I saw Jamie Lloyd’s Cyrano on live stream at the cinema. We were then plunged into lockdown. The production sat with me, particularly given that we could not see anything in person. The verbal swordplay and stark light-driven design resonated through my mind.

In March 2022, I got the chance to see the same production, now remounted in London’s West End ahead of its much delayed transfer to Brooklyn. Anticipation was high, as of course, this production had lived on in my mind. Edited, re-shaped. Seeing it live, strangely, gave a heightened awareness of the technical nature of the production, which seeing it digitally had glossed and smoothed over. This isn’t a bad thing, necessarily, but in part because I knew the conceit, it removed me from the moment slightly.

I was, however, much more aware of time in the live experience; keenly aware of the pace of the production when it sped up and more importantly, when it slowed for effect. James McAvoy’s “I want you” monologue had the entirety of the theatre holding their collective breath.

It further meant that I was aware of the shortcomings of the dramaturgy. Did the show need to be as long as it was? Could cleaner and tighter choices have been made? Absolutely. But what is fascinating is that these shortcomings were completely missed in my viewing of the streamed production. Why was I willing to accept unnecessary length and less clear dramaturgy in a “film” style experience, but less forgiving in the “live”?

What is different in the way our minds process time and information across these two mediums?

Katharsis by Yvette Nolan @ Prairie Theatre Exchange (limited recording)

I viewed this via Prairie Theatre Exchange on Vimeo, during their limited free availability of the piece on demand.

Yvette Nolan has written a love letter to the theatre. It is gentle and kind, acknowledging the uncanny situation we find ourselves in — desperate for connection and stories, but unable to serve them in our preferred in-person manner. A time when theatre is more necessary than ever, and yet impossible in its old form.

The use of the enormous and empty PTE mainstage space is delightful. Tracey Nepinak guides us with comfort and reassurance, reminding us that we’ve been paused before, but will come back. She is charming and engaging (as always), and I honestly couldn’t imagine a better actor for this role.

A delightful treat of a piece in response to these pandemic times.