Shunt

"What do you want?" The man boldly asks, then lets the question hover in the air.

Silence.

No one dares to speak. Are we supposed to speak? We're merely audience members. But this is not a typical theatre. It's not a theatre at all. We're sitting in a room, inside a "machine", inside of an abandoned warehouse. Perhaps then, if this isn't a theatre, he's not just reciting a line. Perhaps he's looking for a real answer. But then again...

Silence.

He looks around the room one final time, making eye contact, before pocketing our silence and leaving through the door.

It's interesting how when someone, a stranger even, asks the question flat out, your mind immediately finds an answer.

"What do you want?"

~~~

Rainey and I were thrilled to be seeing our first play for our "Contemporary London Theatre" course. And we knew we were in for a treat.

The show: "Money"

Put on by: SHUNT

Why a treat? Shunt is known for unconventional, site-specific theatre, for breaking all the rules. Meaning they take you out of the soft, plush theatre seats and plunge you directly into the action. No "please turn off your cell phone" announcements or big fancy overture. Finding the place was an adventure in itself, considering there's no bright neon lights announcing its location.

When we arrived, this is what we saw (without the actors and with much less light):

Notice the man in the bottom left corner? He's one of three "usher" type actors. They were the first actors we saw as we were milling about, waiting for 7:30 to roll around. In their black jumpsuits and gas masks, they didn't appear all too friendly, but when one came out with balloons, I got daring and asked if I could have one. He obliged. This was the first clue that we were about to have fun. However, when the lights in the warehouse started flickering and the machine began making frightening sounds, and a man dressed like a ferrel child suddenly appeared in front of us, I was beginning to think we were signing up for a haunted house tour. We pondered the significance of the balloons, wondering if they were targets. Were we going to be killed off or saved?

The usher/mask men took our balloons back (proving our pondering to be a waste). Then, Everything went black. I latched onto Rainey and we both made "I'm scared!" noises. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face. After some light returned, the men motioned us towards the machine. I felt excited and nervous. I felt totally bewildered. Nothing could have prepared me for the experience we had inside. It was mind boggling. It was utter nonsense and sheer brilliance. It was a fun house full of surprises. Part of the time I had no clue what was going on, but I was on a ride that I had every reason to enjoy.

~~~

"I'm going to get some chocolates," one of the actors says, "can I get you anything?" He poses the question to the entire room.

"I'd like some chocolate." I say, somewhat shyly, not sure if I should speak up.

"Idike thum thocawa?" the man says, looking towards me. I turn red, realizing I had been heard and yet not understood.

I speak louder. "If you're going to get some chocolate, I'd like some too!" A beat. Everyone wonders if I've broken a rule.

"Well you're not demanding at all," he retorts, and everyone laughs. "Well, I'll see what I can do for you." He turns to go, muttering under his breath something about how cheeky I am.

The action continues around us, and a few minutes later, out comes the actor with a tray of little chocolate candies, muttering to himself. Everyone laughs as he approaches me and with a smug look says "here you are, take one, hurry." I do. He lets Rainey have one too. What a nice guy.

~~~

So maybe we should have answered the other man who later asked, "What do you want?" We were told in an after-show Q&A that sometimes audience members asked for cocktails-- and they were rewarded for their boldness. But when the question was hovering in the air, it was not a tangible object that came to my mind. And even though there were answers on the tip of my tongue, I kept my mouth shut.

Still, I was struck.