It’s pilot season at that sexy little think tank of imagination called the Neo-Futurarium. Having just completed a journey through the concept of invention with “Contraption,” The Neo-Futurists are setting their aim on the stalwart torchbearer of popular culture that pervades America’s homes, offices and iPods—the television sitcom.

“Because we create pieces for ‘Too Much Light’ in a very specific way, we were interested in pursuing a project that would require us to write through a completely new process,” says Jay Torrence, Neo artistic director and co-creator of the six-week string of live sitcom ideas, pitched not to television executives but to the paying audience. Together with fellow creators Dean Evans and Ryan Walters, they have assembled a writing team including Ian Belknap, Sean Benjamin, Laura McKenzie and Lauren Sharpe. These scribes represent a multitude of disciplines including standup, solo performance, dance and clowning. With the Neo-Futurists’ rebellious aesthetic, you can bet there will be no single girls in the city working at magazines. These concepts are far more delightfully off-kilter.

“Unitards” (April 10-12)

Ronnie Wexler’s dream is to wrestle. But when the high-school wrestling team doesn’t want his extra chromosome anywhere near their mats, special hopes and special dreams are confronted with even special-er challenges.

“The Colony” (April 17-19)

Six misfit teens ditch out on high school and start a colony on Mars. This red planet’s about to get a whole lot of awkward horny.

“Office Prison Break” (April 24-26)

If you think your nine-to-five job is bad, try doing nine-to-life. At Solutions Inc. you can clock in but you can’t clock out!

“No Place Like Home” (May 1-3)

From failed dreams to nighttime riddles, Emily Kane just can’t seem to get it right. Will she decipher her premonitions in time to save her dead friend Chris? Tune in and find out!

“Too Much” (May 8-10)

Six pretentious artists, one house and an awful lot of miscommunication equals “Too Much”… comedy. When these performance artists leave the stage, the real drama begins. Find out what happens when people stop being Neo-Futurists and start being roommates.

“The Mime” (May 15-17)

“Don’t do the crime if you can’t face the mime.” A reluctant superhero mime artist takes on the mafia by thinking outside of the box. (William Scott)

At the Neo-Futurarium, 5153 North Ashland, (773)275-5255. This production is now closed.

RECOMMENDED

Things have gone a little crazy inside the New-Futurarium.  Writer/director Bilal Dardai’s “Contraption” has taken over and it will not quit until everyone in room is a little uncertain of their own state of mind.  Part infotainment, part Brechtian pontification on the grip  insanity has had on many of histories great inventors, “Contraption” delivers one vaudevillian sight gag after another but manages to be more than a good laugh.  Despite the total deconstruction of the play before your very eyes, it still keeps a gripping and educational through line.    Dardai’s writing, however, is stronger than his direction.  He manages to construct striking stage pictures that are undoubtedly from a Neo-Futurist, but some less obvious choices with the text would have served the material well.  The cast is a tight ensemble of four.  Dina Connelly stands out, though.  Equally at home playing an animatron as a sexy psychiatrist, her energy is exuberant and perfect for the wonderfully quirky production. (William Scott)

At the Neo-Futurarium, 5153 N. Ashland, (773)275-5255. This production is now closed. 

RECOMMENDED

From the press release I am told that “The Fool (returns to his chair),” the Neo-Futurists’ latest, “…presents an abstract history of fools through the ages…from Western Romantic fools and Russian Holy Fools to the trickster Gods, ancient tarot traveling fool, and Bugs Bunny.” In addition, in interviews creator and co-writer John Pierson has stated that he “…wanted the challenge of presenting a visual and musical piece with minimal spoken word that is highly entertaining yet provides emotional weight with historical context.” This translates into a pre-show performance prologue where you might have the privilege of holding a peeled banana dipped in peanut butter as another performer on all fours blows a wad of crumbled paper around the auditorium floor. Later, to the tune of “Mr. Bojangles,” a Neo-Futurist will attempt to pour a drink from a pitcher of water that has been scotch-taped atop tiered milk crates resting on his head and shoulders. Another Neo rambles some stream-of-consciousness monologue about celebrities (“I wonder how Brad and Angelina drink a latte?”). And the piece de resistance sees the entire ensemble regurgitating red liquid from their mouths onto each other and their pristine white plastic jumpsuits. My companion summed up his experience as akin to “talent night at the mental institute.” Besides the Bugs Bunny bit, which I got, I didn’t know what to make of this. I don’t have to love a work of art in order to appreciate it. Hell, I don’t even have to like it as long as I can make some sense of what it’s trying to say intellectually or accomplish artistically. I try to remember this each time I encounter something that could be termed “experimental”—from Karen Findley to elephant-dung stained depictions of the Virgin Mary to yes, the Neo-Futurists. But here the storytelling is muddled, the imagery is not memorable, and the overall execution so sloppy—I oftentimes had trouble discerning where one vignette began or ended, if it mattered—that all I could gather from “The Fool,” even with the added benefit of a press release to explain it all for me, was that it was one of the most pointless, self-indulgent, in your face and gross for gross sake “experiments” that I have ever had the displeasure of sitting through. (Fabrizio O. Almeida)

At the Neo-Futurarium, 5153 N. Ashland, (773)275-5255. Thu–Sat 8pm. $10-$15. Through September 29.

RECOMMENDED

Full disclosure: this is only the second Neo-Futurists show that I have ever seen with last season’s “Daredevils” being the first. Still, I think I can surmise why it’s tricky to make any “critical” pronouncements on this smart and smart-alecky troupe—these guys and gals will be the first ones to call themselves out on things that could seem dramaturgical hindrances for some, but for the Neos become sources of self-deprecating humor to be enjoyed by others. So while “Poker Night at the White House”—the Neo-Futurists’ new show at the Neo-Futurarium—is too long, too prolix, at times too puerile and could use another puppeteer, by the time an actor in a gorilla suit was running around in a madcap Keystone-cop chase through various doors they had secured my vote for their inchoate blend of theatrical history and hijinks. A one-act mediation on “America’s worst president…so far,” “Poker Night” examines the Warren G. Harding administration that was replete with more scandals and stupidity than you could fit into one Republican presidency…so far. Packed with real interesting yet real useless historical information, the performance is memorable for the cute and clever shadow-puppet work that dominates the show’s visual stamp, as well as the comical and charismatic turns by Neo-Futurists Noelle Krimm, Jay Torrence, Luke Hatton and puppeteer Barbara Whitney, who almost steals the show with that gorilla suit. I loved the life-sized puppet of W.G. Harding whose presence constantly reminded me of those satirical Spitting Image puppets from the 1980s that also skewered the politicians of the day. And finally, whether it’s a permanent art installation or a collection assembled for the run of this show, the hallway of presidential paintings and portraits by various Chicago artists that leads up to the auditorium within the Neo-Futurarium—a Truman painted in the colors and with the intensity of a Keith Haring; a Cleveland as disturbing as anything by Francis Bacon; a regal Clinton that actually makes him look attractive—is astonishing and the perfect compliment to one’s enjoyment of the play. (Fabrizio O. Almeida)

This production is now closed. 

RECOMMENDED

Experimental theater, as embodied by the Neo-Futurists, is less about doing something unusual than it is about truly conducting experiments. What would happen if we did this? Really. What would happen? There is something appealing about the approach, and you can always appreciate the intellectual impetus even if you don’t like the show. As it turns out, I like “You Asked for It!”—Greg Allen’s attempt to parse theatrical tastes and preferences—though don’t be deceived. His stagings of “America’s Least Wanted Play,” followed by “America’s Most Wanted Play,” are both amalgams of character types, settings and other details, gleaned from an email survey he sent to more than 2,000 people. The outcome is cheeky and intentionally a mishmash; Allen has made no effort to write plays that could plausibly stand on their own, separate from the survey results. It is all a bit of intellectual hokum, actually. The plays (playlets, really) are patently absurd, and that seems to be the point: If you spend all your time asking audiences what they want, the results will be ridiculous—and useless. The perfect irony is that I favored the least-wanted play over the most. It had something to do with actor Steve Walker playing an alien that resembles Bea Arthur in tin foil ears. Really? Is that what American wants least? (Nina Metz)

This production is now closed.

RECOMMENDED

Despite the subject matter, this might be the most joyous show from the Neo-Futurists in years. Playwright Jay Torrence spotlights the grisly deaths of more than eighty circus workers, burned alive one June night in 1918 when their train, stopped near Gary, Indiana, was blindsided by an empty military transport train. Torrence (who also performs, and co-directs with Kristie Koehler) pulls whole handfuls from this historical wreckage—the need to belong to a community, even if it is a community of circus freaks; that life truly blows when you’re a circus animal; the battering of civil liberties during wartime (in this case, World War I, but the modern-day parallels are made obvious)—and jams them back together with eighties-inspired dance breaks, lip-synching to Alanis Morissette’s “Thank You” and non-sequitur references to Shade and Kenny Rogers. The Neo-Futurist aesthetic—all meta, all the time—is spelled out more than usual (it’s not only a meta-play, but a meta-circus), which helps defuse some of the wide-eyed antiwar self-seriousness hovering at the edges. Read the rest of this entry »

RECOMMENDED

Let me begin by saying that Greg Allen and Donovan Sherman’s artfully skewed look at a century’s worth of blowing up civilians attacks its subject with passion and theatrical wit. Several moments in this NeoFuturists production linger in the memory: the video interviews with Allen’s uncle, a participant in the Manhattan Project; the burning paper house that represents the incineration of Tokyo during World War II; the empty chair reserved for Henry Kissinger. “A Child’s History” is an intelligent treatment of a topic that could not be more timely, and you should go see it. Having said that, one of the most interesting moments of the opening-night performance raises questions about the play’s tactics. Asked by Allen whether she would have assassinated Hitler, an audience member responded that history is driven by forces larger than even the most malevolent individual. Allen and Sherman’s play often threatens to slip into the same logic of demonization for which they rightfully take Bush pere and fils to task. If the mantra “Saddam Hussein” is not enough to explain the world’s problems, neither are the names “Bomber Harris” or “Curtis LeMay.” The diagnosis of the wretched history they cite is often left at the level of “some crazy people are in love with bombs,” or “the West is appallingly racist.” It’s hard to argue with either, but the grand scale of the play’s themes demands a deeper analysis, one that might leave its audience even less comfortable. (John Beer)

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Department-store Santas are kidnapped by a psychotic man-child in Sean Benjamin’s “The Santa Abductions,” the Neo-Futurists’ decidedly twisted foray into the realm of Christmas programming. First off, let me say there’s nothing wrong with twisted. Twisted is good. The seasonal treacle that usually passes for holiday fare would be nicely offset by this middle finger shoved so indelicately in the face of tradition and cliché, if only it didn’t bring to mind vague images of Abu Ghraib. Kind of takes the wind of out your sails, don’t it? Fed up with the lies his mother told him about Old Saint Nick, Fred (Jay Torrence, as a man trapped in the mind of a demented 9-year-old) abducts a sidewalk Santa (the exceptionally funny Luke Hatton) and brings him home for some dastardly experiments. Fred’s compulsion? Turn a fake Santa into the real Santa, via the “Santa Maker,” an electric chair disguised as a sleigh. His first few efforts have failed; those that he hasn’t killed live trapped in his home as lobotomized rejects, dubbed Santa 3, Santa 5 and Santa 7. Director Sean Daniels keeps the tone light and ironic, but the torture element has a tendency to smother out much of the sardonic joy in the script. Read the rest of this entry »

While you have to admire the Neo-Futurists’ attempt to find meaning behind the frat-boy-inspired revelries and testosterone-fueled tomfoolery of jackass male behavior, the results of “Daredevils”—a potpourri of physical stunts, audience participation and performers waxing philosophical on the nature of risk and personal boundaries—are half-assed at best. One disturbing segment involving an attempted self-induced-asthma attack by one of the performers notwithstanding, the show seldom reaches the level of “stunt-filled roller-coaster thrill-ride” experience it purports to be. And emotionally, “Daredevils” does not delve deeply enough into the psychology of its historical (Houdini, Knievel) or onstage subjects to merit its longwinded passages and sometimes sluggish rhythm. Only a handful of brilliant bits momentarily remind the audience that the hosts of this theatrical event are the rabble-rousing famous Futurists: a hilarious musical number about overcoming the fears of landing an aerial cartwheel; a unicycle and some Indian curry; choreography that can be best described as Chippendales meets “Waiting for Guffman.” Uneven at best, miscalculated at worst, “Daredevils” fails to deliver as either don’t-try-this-at-home-theater or “Jackass” for the NPR-set theater piece. (Fabrizio O. Almeida)

The Neo-Futurists don’t really do “normal” plays. Their shows—original works that are more theme-based than plot-based—are brainy and whimsical and so uniquely constructed, you might often find yourself wondering why you ever gave a fart about so-called normal plays. And yet. At their most precious, the Neo-Futurists produce shows that can be aggravatingly theater-cute. “Patriots,” created and directed by Chloe Johnston, falls (and falls, and falls, and falls) into this category. It’s very school-projecty: colored masking tape, Sharpie markers and lots and lots of paper. All of these supplies are used to illustrate the history of America on a big map pasted to a wall on stage. It’s neither terribly witty nor illuminating. And it goes on forever. The show then veers off into two seemingly unrelated tangents, one examining the nineteenth-century poet Walt Whitman, the other focusing on the twentieth-century politician and notoriously hypocritical racist J. Strom Thurmond. Johnston’s compare-and-contrast portrayal of each man feels meaningless. More importantly, it doesn’t propel forward any kind of discussion about patriotism in the here and now. (Nina Metz) 

This production is now closed.