This one’s for the fellow interactive theatre makers, for I have a bold Dramaturgical Theory to present.
When I started out in interactive immersive theatre, the joke was that a good show title had a verb in it, or at least told you clearly what you’d be doing. You might think of Jury Duty, For King and Country, or Crooks 1926. None with an explicit verb, but all give a decent sense of what the interaction will be. Jury duty, for king and country, crime.
For those who follow my work, this principle holds strongly. Painting, estate sale, bargain, worship, murder, [travel] into the Dreamlands…
Obviously, there are clear dissenters: Phantom Peak, The Key of Dreams, The Manikins. None of which directly tell you what they’re about from the title alone.*
But this is not a blog about titling your show. This is the bold Dramaturgical Theory.
Interactive Theatre should not have a dramatic statement, but a dramatic question, as its central thesis; a question to be answered by its audience.
Interactive Theatre should not have a dramatic statement as its central thesis. Many productions of conventional theatre have something they want to say. An obvious interpretation of Oedipus might want to say something about the inevitable downfall that comes with overconfidence.
Interactive theatre, however, cannot control the majority of bodies in its space. Those bodies do not know the production’s theme. While one can guide and manipulate, ultimately the audience should feel like they are still humans.
That is to say, beings with free will and free thought.
But a dramatic question to be answered by its audience. Therefore they will be able to wonder about a question you pose them. That might be “how far would you go to earn the money to survive?” or “how should we relate to our world?” or “how do you respond when reality’s slipping?”
Their actions can provide many possible answers. And given that the interactivity is the defining, unusual feature of the genre of interactive theatre, it is important that those actions and thoughts matter.
We can centre a question as our theme as an easy way to make those actions matter. Every part of the experience can be held up against that question: does it offer an answer? Does it help someone find an answer? Does this choice give them a chance to develop their answer? Does it help them build a sense of who they are, as a person answering? Do the audience’s overall actions build to an answer by this group of people, in this place, in this moment?
For this does not remove the artist’s shaping. The way we ask the question matters, as any pollster will tell you. “How should we relate to the Uncanny Thing?” is a very different question if asked in a room of soft blankets and warm drinks than if asked in a room of weapons and chains.
There is doubtless more to say here, but it’s an approach I’ve been finding helpful on a few recent projects, and I hope may help you.
*Jack Aldisert, if you're reading this, I'd love to see you do a puppet show. Not in an artsy way; I'd just be very interested in your Punch & Judy.
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