For the first time, guest writer Aahana Roy explores the world of independent theater in New York City through The Magic Lantern Anthology, a weird and wacky puppet show.

Even before arriving at Columbia, I knew theater would be a big part of my New York City move. Broadway shows, opera, ballet, and, apparently, bizarre underground puppetry. Last Saturday, I had what felt like the ultimate NYC theater experience watching The Magic Lantern Anthology at the New Stage Performance Space. The five-part show features a variety of experimental puppetry, combining lighting, live performance, technology, and a cabbage suffering an existential crisis.

As it turns out, underground puppetry is quite literally underground. Descending the steps beyond a sketchy black door—and it was literally sketchy, as white graffiti marked the door held open by a traffic cone—I entered the black box. I was welcomed by a funky electronic tune. I took my place in the second row and waited for the show to begin…

The Magic Lantern Anthology is weird, and I mean that affectionately. Constructed with layered translucent sheets and a light box, a spooky title card announced the first number: GUARD DOG! The light box turned out to be a prominent member of the cast, featured in three out of the five shows. In GUARD DOG! it was used to alternate between displaying shadow puppetry and revealing real-life actors. Each clad entirely in black, with a puppet’s body stuck to their front, the performers transformed into bumbling thieves attempting to steal a diamond from an abandoned house. When viewed at just the right angle, the actors appeared as if they had enormous heads and teeny tiny bodies. While the costuming and technical shadow puppetry were incredible, the acting wasn’t the best. Many of the jokes only landed because the bizarro nature of the show was easy to laugh at. But maybe that was the point—either way, a laugh is a laugh, and I found it hilarious.

Then came Future Folklore, which was by far my favorite. To begin the show, Michael Vandergard (lead puppeteer and producer) explained the science of the light box—polarized light that changes the colors when you turn the sheets at an angle—attracting a chorus of oohs and ahhs. The story itself centers around a dysfunctional woman who races a disembodied metallic head. Confused? Despite the plot being hard to follow, it doesn’t affect the quality of the narrative. The dialogue was on-the-nose and over-explanatory in a way that completely worked. Vandergard spoonfeeds the audience: the woman is humanity, the head is AI, and subtlety has no place in this story. Whether or not you understand Future Folklore, you’re still in for a ride.

After two long, intense performances, the next two served as a sort of palate cleanser. In Glow Up! a bug undergoes a luminous transformation; in Cabbage and Co., the audience is subjected to a song about a cabbage’s existential dread. I liked that these shorter pieces didn’t try to do too much. After the chaos of GUARD DOG! and Future Folklore, it was nice to sit back and watch something weird happen without having to translate an abstract metaphor.

The Magic Lantern Anthology closes with Cast from Heaven, a three-act play about a boy trying to escape the world. This show had some of my favourite lighting tricks of the night. At one point the boy (played by Jacob Graham) grabs twinkling snowflakes out of thin air before stashing them in his pocket. The acting, again, didn’t quite match the technical side of the play. Some of Graham’s reactions felt a beat too late, and his repetitive facial expressions flattened the otherwise vibrant performance. Luckily, Jono Currier’s live music brought some of that energy back. Currier accents Graham’s performance with an arsenal of noisemakers, even playing two recorders at the same time in an especially dramatic moment. Together, they immerse the audience in the story and bring the anthology to a dramatic close.

When it comes to the independent New York City theater experience, you never really know what to expect. The Magic Lantern Anthology is a fever dream of a production. While the puppetry, technology, and lighting overshadowed the acting at times, it’s hard to deny that watching the performance was genuinely fun. Keeping an audience belly laughing for two consecutive hours is no easy feat, and the cast and crew of the show made that happen.

I’m still not entirely sure what I watched, but I exited through the sketchy black door happier than when I entered it. I wonder what else college has in store for the next four years.

Header via Flickr