We can tell the minute we walk in that this isn't going to be the usual theater experience. While waiting in line, an entourage enters, asking the audience to make way. The sole job of one of them is to simply hold a boom box aloft like some weird talisman as it plays. The crowd of theatergoers parts for a girl dressed to the nines like some sort of Manhattan socialite. She slinks her way into the theater. This is never explained by anyone.
Next comes getting into the theater itself. The ticket price is placed squarely in the hands of Lady Luck; we pay seven dollars plus is rolled on a six-sided die.
We step into the theater; someone asks our names, writes something completely unrelated on "Hello, my name is..." stickers, and tells us to put them on. Yours says "I’m From Maine!"
It’s a typical black box space, like many in Chicago. Not so typical are the numbers, one through thirty, written on sheets of paper and hung over the performance area on a clothespin line. Nearby is a timer. We are told that since the show sold out, as tradition dictates, pizza will be ordered. It’s not a joke; the pizza is set out for audience enjoyment after the show.
We’re at the Friday night performance of "Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind," the staple piece of the Neo-Futurists. The group has been doing the show for 16 years now, and every time its goal is the same: to do its best to perform 30 short plays of their own devising in 60 minutes or less. The order of the plays is chosen by the audience; after each piece, everyone shouts out their preferred number, vying to be heard. The plays change from week to week; audience members are asked to roll a die at the end of the show to determine the number of plays that are to be replaced before the next week’s show.
Some of the pieces are funny. Some of them are sad. Some of them are just plain weird. All of them are original, and warp the audience’s conception of what makes theater. In most of the pieces, the fourth wall is utterly obliterated; in one of the pieces an audience member is chosen to eat a bowl of pasta. In another, random members of the audience are encouraged to exchange hugs. Some pieces are linked to each other, so that it’s impossible to fully comprehend the first one until the second one is performed. Some aren’t even really performance pieces at all (a favorite of mine was a play for which the actors prepare an elaborate set up; it ends as soon as they have everything ready.)
Since new pieces are put in the show so often, it was interesting to see just how much of the show seemed to be influenced by our recent presidential election. For good or for ill, this late-night offering is not a show for red staters. Many of the plays on the evening I attended were downright angry about the way things have turned out. Theatergoers without a taste for strongly worded political commentary on stage should be forewarned: these works are highly personal, and some of them touch on sensitive topics.
Different pieces resonate differently with each audience member, so the evening can be a grab bag of hits and misses. Still, you can never, ever accuse the Neo-Futurists of being boring or conventional. And there is this to say for them: with this show, if you don’t like what you’re seeing on stage all you have to do is wait a couple of minutes. If you haven’t yet had the opportunity, the next couple of months will be a good time to sample their work. In December, the group will be doing "best of" compilation shows that display some of the best plays from the company’s history, and it will offer a kid-friendly version of the show, "Too Much Light Kids!" on Saturdays at 2 p.m. through Dec. 18, 2004.
At the Neo-Futurarium, 5153 N. Ashland; (773)275-5255; $7 + 6-sided die roll. Open run; 11:30 p.m. Friday-Saturday; 7 p.m. Sunday; no shows Dec. 24-Jan. 2, 2005. On Dec. 19, a special offer: $1 plus a six-sided die roll.
