Mr Burns, a Post-Electric Play lights up the end of the world (this is not a review)

by Drew Rowsome -

A monk peers out from beneath his cowl after scanning the QR code on our tickets, and advises that there are two 15 minute intermissions. Two? An inquiry into the length of Mr Burns, a Post-Electric Play, gets us an estimate of a not very austere three hours plus. The evening's commitments have already been whittled down from four but the two remaining, one being Mr Burns, are going to conflict.

We wander into the decrepit splendour of the Historic Aztec Theatre (né Big Picture Cinemas) and search out our seats beneath the peeling paint and shattered elegance. The monks line up at the front as the usual pre-show platitudes and instructions are imparted, and then one walks to a large, cartoon-like breaker switch, yanks it down, and we are plunged into utter darkness.

The conceit of Mr Burns is that some unspecified nuclear disaster has brought about the apocalypse. Hence no electricity. Hence the Stygian black surrounding us. Hence my unease, not only terror brought on by disorientation as used in The Bone House, but also because there will be no way to sneak out discreetly upon our deadline, we are going to have to miss the entire third act.

The first act is an attempt by survivors to remember the details of The Simpsons' episode "Cape Feare." It is astonishing that the multiple references were familiar to apparently everyone in the audience, The Simpsons really are a fixture in popular culture (it also helps that "Cape Feare" is consistently rated as one of the best The Simpsons episodes of all 552 [so far] for the most part consistently excellent The Simpsons episodes). Intermingled is enough back story to tease us along and provide context. Though the attempt to remember goes on far too long, the humorous portions contrast nicely with a horrific reveal that is all the more heartbreaking for what has come before. Then Damien Atkins (The Gay Heritage Project, London Road, Sextet) drops by and flexes his musical theatre muscles with a bit of Gilbert and Sullivan that references Sideshow Bob's performance of the same in "Cape Feare" as well as the entire history and future of theatre. His star wattage blows out the power again.

By the second act - "7 Years Later" theatrical time, 20 minutes later real time - the survivors have acquired less rudimentary forms of illumination than the flashlights and lanterns that were the sole sources of light in the first act. Having the cast race through the theatre aisles while barely visible did contribute to the advertised "immersive" effect, but it is a relief to be able to see the actors' faces again.

The second act is a rehearsal for a theatrical production of "Cape Feare," as well as it can be remembered. Playwright Anne Washburn plays fast and loose with ideas about theatricality vs reality, language, morality, etc. There are some very funny moments - provided mainly by the charismatic (even in the dark) Sébastien Heins (Brotherhood: The Hip Hopera) as the studly security turned distracted set salvager, Rielle Braid (Ride the Cyclone) as the actress with at least two conflicting personalities, Colin Doyle who plays Homer Simpson, and the entire exuberant cast in a "commercial" that is really an SNL music video - but, for a show billed as a "musical comedy," Mr Burns is light on either of those ingredients and overstuffed with pseudo-intellectual sci-fi/theatrical referencing.

Then Damien Atkins reappears to flex his musical theatre muscles, there is a dramatic turn of events, and regretfully we have to leave. The third act. set 75 years in the future, promises The Simpsons elevated to religious figures, a production of "Cape Feare," puppets, Atkins and Heins as Itchy and Scratchy, and a further stretching of the metaphors about light, life and theatricality, I really do wish I'd seen it. I hope I do get to see it, some of the ideas are percolating in my brain and, more importantly, I love puppets. And I'm very curious about what Atkins will do in the, literally a, 11 o'clock number to close the show.