Two Shows from Puppetopia

Puppets have radically morphed over the years to include a vast variety of mediums and scales, multi-media, projections, and interaction with humans. The extremely creative and entertaining art form creates some of today’s most entertaining storytelling,

Marooned: A Space Comedy – Original, Funny; Enchanting.
By Alex and Olmstead

A round, flat screen- six feet, maybe – is suspended from the ceiling. Keyboard space sounds pervade. Hands extend from a slit in the curtain, turn and walk across a small globe with two fingers. We watch a tiny rocket (maybe three inches) blast off. The astronaut, a human woman, appears before us in full regalia. We can’t see her face. (Marvelous costume!) A puppeteer in black space gear holds a rectangular screen of stars that unspools as the tiny rocket travels across it. We watch light years pass with signage. The rocket crashes. PART I MAROONED.

Photo by Ryan Maxwell

Scale is playful. There’s the full sized space traveler and an anthropomorphized robot put together out of ship’s parts. (Imagine segmented, mechanical frog-like legs and one blinking – confused – spotlight eye.) Tiny puppet versions of the ship, the astronaut, and her “companion” are shown exploring mountainous terrain. (The second puppeteer is in view creating scenarios stage left at the rear.) On screen are naïve cartoon images, reports of Oxygen and Life Support, a trajectory map, chapter titles and later, instructions for the audience to speak in unison (by which time we’re SO into it).

Photo by Glenn Ricci

The astronaut teaches her mechanical companion how to walk and gently acclimates it to plugging in a receiver. They develop a relationship. She phones for aid – if ET can do it! – (sounds are amusing and evocative) but reaches a frustrating set of unhelpful resources including a cosmic repair shop closed for the holidays, an alien child not allowed to use the phone, and a Shakespearean-looking character who’s late for a poetry reading.

It’s suggested elevation might get further reception. Tiny versions of the characters trek. They barely escape – well, there’s a wound – I’m not telling you, but it’s VERY funny. More phoning reaches a different group of interstellar characters. By now Oxygen is on 3, Life Support on 2. There’s dancing. Gloves float away. The astronaut is balletic throughout. No matter what she does it’s as if underwater, i.e. existing in lack of gravity. Beautifully enacted. She pants, suffers. ALMOST THE VOID – a sign says. HOPE IS ALL BUT LOST, BUT THEN…

Photo by Glenn Ricci

The audience enthusiastically helps propel our space traveler home with instructions and advice. HAL (2001 Space Odyssey) eat your heart out.

Opening Photo by Glenn Ricci

Lectures
By Eat, Drink, Tell Your Friends

Photo by Richard Termine

This piece can’t decide what it is. Five floating, white balls move aside for a human lecturer on the irregularities of time and controlling it. A jointed wood, non-binary puppet (appealing) in shorts and boots listens to the lecture on a Walkman. Rain comes (we hear it, but see nothing). The helicopter child runs home, takes a key from under a mat and lets himself in. His kitchen is a drawing, the bedroom contains brightly colored, transportation sheets, a lantern light of horses whose shadows prance on walls, and a small television. Mom leaves messages about staying late at work.

The lecturer is now a small puppet on TV. He also seems to be a procurer. “I’ve got a promising new candidate for you.” We see a Magus or perhaps a large caterpillar – the creature has a flat face and lots of arms/hands – putting labels on endless jars that seem to pop out of a chute. (Great sound effects throughout.) Some he turns into small, galloping horses. Go figure. Eventually one lights up to reveal the silhouette of a beating heart.

Photo by Richard Termine

The boy gets pulled into his TV by the lecturer and comes out the chute. His heart may be extracted. Are we to think it’s hardened for lack of love, that he doesn’t need it, that it’s ripe for plucking? A large wire horse with a lit heart appears to give his to the boy. The human lecturer returns with a giant paper mache head. No idea what he’s on about or what happens to the kid or where we’re left.

Puppetopia (February 27- March 10) 2024
HERE 145 Sixth Avenue