Theater: At Play

It was 6 pm on a Sunday evening. We waited in the dark room for the boss to show up and tell us what to do. It was hot, the kind of heat that can drive a man mad and woman into wantonness—if she isn’t there already. Finally they arrived, a tall gentleman in a nice suit and young lady in a long purple dress. Gyda Arber, the director of this operation, led them in. She had come with our instructions, and some classy accessories. 

Arber handed me the red and black feather boa, I was the showgirl after all. My companion became the producer in a brown fedora and leather satchel. The other two, a father-daughter team from Connecticut, were the detective and the heiress. Arber gave us the run down of the mission: Gesturing down the street, she pointed out the destinations the little electronic boxes in our hands might tell us to go. We plugged in and once the bell rang, were off. It was Brooklyn, 1940, and I had just embarked on Arber’s live-action play, “Suspicious Package: An Interactive Noir.”

Now, before you balk at the idea of an interactive play, be warned that this was one of the best times I have had “at the theater.” Instead of just watching the actors, the audience becomes them. The four players take part in each show—three per day on Saturday and Sunday— become intimate with their characters (the aforementioned showgirl, producer, detective and heiress) through a series of audio and video segments played on a Zune media player.

At the sound of the bell, I headed toward the jewelry store as bits of my past were explained to me. Arber did well communicating with the locations so it didn’t feel to weird going in. Sometimes, like in the bars, the customers did a double take, but that could have been because I was wearing the boa when it was 90 degrees outside. Though after the woman at the jewelry store basically ignored me, I relaxed completely and didn’t care what that block of Williamsburg thought.

If everything is done right, it’s not difficult in the least and you end up at the final destination—The Lazy Catfish, a divey bar on Lorimer St.—where drama unfolds and Arber toasts your performance with a complementary beverage.

At the end you are able to sit and discuss your experience with the other players. The process proved unique because you get psychologically invested in the person you play and even find yourself defending his or her actions. I took my friend from out of town with me and we both had completely different thoughts about each other’s characters and the rest of the cast. For me, the greatest moment occurred when my character said, “Good, I want him to follow me,” and I turned around to see the detective trailing me by a block.

I didn’t know what to expect when I walked in, but after being trailed, almost being poisoned and watching my plot unfold, the play turned out to be great fun. Although I’m still looking over my shoulder.

Through Aug. 31. Brick Theater, 575 Metropolitan Ave. (betw. Union & Lorimer Sts.), Brooklyn, 212-352-3101; $20, bricktheater.com.