Fuerzabruta

THE LIFE AQUATIC Fuerzabruta’s water babies paddle around.

THE LIFE AQUATIC Fuerzabruta’s water babies paddle around. COURTESY OF FUERZABRUTA

Time Out Ratings :

<strong>Rating: </strong>3/5

The question is not which drug will enhance your experience of the postindustrial dance-rave spectacular Fuerzabruta, but what you are willing to pay for it. You've already shelled out $70 for the privilege of being spritzed by hoses, ogling wet girls pressed against clear plastic inches from your face and having your bones rattled by drum 'n' bass tracks. Chances are you'll splurge for the E, pot or acid that will make this design and engineering stunt (by a cocreator of De La Guarda) appear meaningful.

The question is not which drug will enhance your experience of the postindustrial dance-rave spectacular Fuerzabruta, but what you are willing to pay for it. You've already shelled out $70 for the privilege of being spritzed by hoses, ogling wet girls pressed against clear plastic inches from your face and having your bones rattled by drum 'n' bass tracks. Chances are you'll splurge for the E, pot or acid that will make this design and engineering stunt (by a cocreator of De La Guarda) appear meaningful.

Maybe it's not fair to fault the show, which originated in Buenos Aires and has been developed over the past four years, for being exactly what it is: an interactive environmental thrill ride without narrative, characters or message. But there is a veneer of social comment—a glum, urban everyman races along on a treadmill, gets shot in the chest, crashes through walls of cardboard boxes—that is hard to ignore yet also remarkably vapid. As I shouted to my friend over the loud action, "This is the worst 9/11 play I've ever seen!" The remark wasn't totally fatuous: Diqui James's vision includes a lot of violence and angry stomp-dancing, people covered in dust, and thousands of scraps of tissue paper fluttering through the air, conjuring a sense of catastrophe and loss. But neither the director nor his hardworking crew seems to care about what it actually, ya know, means. The result is half techno party, half avant-garde mood piece. This visually ingenious work aims to blow your sober mind, but chemical assistance could help with that.

Daryl Roth Theatre. Created and directed by Diqui James. With ensemble cast. 50mins. No intermission. Buy tickets