It was a dull Thursday night. There wasn’t much on the telly. So, I thought I’d pop down to the Shoebox Theatre and join a cult.
Sorry, not a cult. That’s not fair. Janus is a loving community of freethinkers, guided by their enlightened leader: “Mother”. They are working together unlock mankind’s true potential and answer the eternal question of humankind’s true purpose. Nothing “culty” about that at all. I mean you must sign away all of your possessions, forego procreation and demonstrate an unquestioning loyalty to “Mother” to join, but apart from that and resemblance to a cult are purely cosmetic.
Although I don’t think you’re allowed cosmetics either.
In reality (tenuous concept though that is these days) “Janus” is actually the latest production from Wrong Shoes Theatre Company. It’s a piece of immersive theatre. That means that the audience are up on their feet and interacting with the cast, rather than being sat in the dark noisily munching on a bag of Werther’s Originals.
We, as the audience, were attending an Open Day for “Janus”, a scientology-flavoured sect made up of seven unnaturally serene members. That serenity rapidly crumbles during the course of the play.
I think it’s still a “play” when it’s semi-improvised and you’re in the middle of it, isn’t it? Theatrical experience instead, perhaps? There were many elements to it. Physical theatre, live music, weird pulsing electronica, humour, shocks, flagellation and a deep sense of unease running throughout everything.
The space that the Shoebox Theatre have occupied at the Health Hydro includes a number of intertwined spaces, big and small, and the modular nature of the venue was used artfully. We were permitted to wander from room-to-room for much of the show and, in doing that, we’d catch the acolytes mid-scene, only hearing half a confrontation or conversation. More involving than passively watching the drama unfold on stage. As Janus, and its disciples start to unravel around us we were trapped, complicit in the drama’s shocking denouement.
There’s nothing passive about going to see an immersive piece like this, especially one like Janus where the audience are complicit in the plot. But there’s a lot to be said for leaving a theatre with your nerves jangling, knowing that – in some ways – you’re leaving with metaphorical blood on your hands.
All praise Mother.
Review courtesy of Ben Thomas.
