August Schulenberg asks clever questions in

Something wonderful is happening at the Secret Theater. Science fiction has taken over this Long Island City that’s begun to play host to a series of intellectually stimulating pulp theater, starting with Mac Rogers’ ongoing Honeycomb Trilogy with Gideon Productions there. Now, the provocative cyber-thriller Deinde joins the ranks as well. Who’d have thought such a small Off-Off-Broadway venue could provide such fertile soil for the sandbox of one’s mind?

Deinde, helmed by the winning team of playwright August Schulenberg and director Heather Cohn, is set in 2051. (Note: the two are part of the Flux Theatre Ensemble, which has mounted Deinde and provides the “F” in BFG, a collective sharing a half-year residency at the Secret; Gideon makes up the “G”). A team of dedicated quantum biologists faces a deadly virus, including Cooper Sands (David Ian Lee), whose wife is slowly dying from it. The team learns from intelligence expert Daniel Nemerov (Matthew Trumbull) about a system called Deinde (a humorous acronym for “Dineural Entangled Intelligence Network Device”), which will enhance their analytic capabilities and discover a vaccine for this scourge.

Apparently, though, in the future, what happens in practice is very different from what happens in theory. Elder team member Malcolm (Ken Glickfield) fears these “super-brains” will either alter or corrupt his scientists, and he’s within reason. It isn’t long before various side effects begin to tear his team apart at the seams, largely unfolding in a series of two-handers between members of the cast. Mac Silverhorn (an intensely committed Isaiah Tanenbaum) actively loses touch with his humanity, to the fright of best friend Bobby (Matthew Murumba) and intrigue of co-worker Jenni Long (Rachael Hip-Flores), who herself becomes detached from girlfriend Mindy (Sol Marina Crespo). Cooper, meanwhile, embarks on a new journey of his own, questioning loyalty to his wife over a connection to lead scientist Nita Ghosh (Nitya Vidyasagar).

A lot of these individual threads progress in ways you might expect, but woven together like a double helix, the carefully constructed Deinde becomes both suspenseful theater and intriguing bioethical commentary. What’s wonderful is just how much of this play’s progression happens in the minds of its characters, and, without showy visual effects, is communicated to the audience. Cohn is able to do this by eliciting touching, specific performances from her entire ensemble, from Lee’s palpably anguished Cooper to Trumbull’s awkward Nemerov to Tanenbaum’s funny-frightening Mac. Additionally, Will Lowry’s minimalist set design, quickly dispatched between scenes is wonderfully evocative.

Deinde takes a few turns for the self-indulgent. It’s currently far from a taut play, and could actually stand to lose about twenty minutes of its running time by trimming some redundant blubber. I also wish the relationship between Cooper and Nita had more of an ebb and flow to it, and that more attention was paid to the (de)evolution of Dara (Alyssa Simon), Cooper’s dying wife, currently an undernourished thread. But there is exceedingly more that works for Deinde than there is against it. Schulenberg has created a socially relevant cautionary tale about the uses and abuses of technology. And in saddling his message to a host of intriguing characters and a smart story, he comes to praise its possibilities, not bury them. Imagine that.

Deinde

The Secret Theatre, 44-02 23rd Street, Long Island City), thru May 12.

www.fluxtheatre.org

Photo by Deborah Alexander.

Mac Rogers’ Honeycomb trilogy continues with Blast Radius

By Doug Strassler

Blast Radius is the second installment in a trilogy devised by Mac Rogers that defies typical categorization. It’s firmly steeped in the tenets of science fiction, but sidesteps the need for flashy special effects. There are familial and romantic relationships at play, but they rarely fall into the trappings of melodrama. So what is it, exactly? Space philosophy comes closest to describing this entertaining work from the indie theatre group Gideon Productions at Long Island City’s Secret Theatre. And yet there’s no point trying to box in a work that comes from an author so clearly thinking outside of the box.

Introductory text in the program catches the audience up from where Advance Man, the first part of Rogers’ “Honeycomb trilogy” (this title makes more sense for those who have seen the works, and I run the risk of revealing too much if I try to describe it here). Blast picks up nearly two decades afterward, and an alien race has taken over Earth. Millions have been murdered, and among the living, families have been segregated and forced to live under an oppressive governing body.

A resistance movement has been formed in a home for pregnant women, whom these aliens leave alone. (Aside for one hilarious prop gag, the aliens remain largely unseen.) Ronnie (an occasionally shrill but convincing Becky Byers), whom we first met in Advance Man as the daughter of one of the astronauts who made first contact with these dangerous aliens, spearheads this group, which increasingly puts her at odds with brother Abbie (a layered David Rosenblatt). Abbie seems to be drawn to the dark side, questioning the same human instincts and traditions the more than Ronnie and her renegades try to protect.

Director Jordana Williams focuses on the show’s emotional core in order to keep the audience engaged. Fraying connections to one another and personal stakes provide the heart of this work, not extra-terrestrial attacks. (Blast also improves upon its predecessor by the absence of explanatory monologues like the one that cluttered the climax of Advance Man.) Rogers, too, is smart enough to know that Blast can’t be all dialogue, either; cast member Joe Mathers nimbly choreographs some entertainingly violent fight scenes. (Zoe Morsette did the special effects here.) This entire ensemble, which includes stellar actors like Felicia J. Hudson, Mathers, Alisha Spielmann and Kristen Vaughn, treats Rogers’ words like poetry. Jason Howard and Cotton Wright turn in particularly gripping, realistic performances.

And yet I worry that Rogers’ savvy and all of Williams’ considerable directorial resources aren’t enough for this trilogy. Yes, Blast gets a suitable production at the Secret, thanks in no part to Sandy Yaklin’s set and Jeanne Travis’s sound design. This story is ultimately a sci-fi miniseries, given an Off-Off berth, and it doesn’t do full justice to this ambitious work. It deserves a bigger budget and richer production values. Through nobody’s fault here, Blast still feels a bit like a pantomime act. And audiences truly deserving to get the full impact of this work.

Which is why I can’t wait for the conclusion.