WHat makes life? Kandinsky Theater Company’s Bruising Sci-Fi Drama has wiped us off from 1803, when scientists electrocute a corpse to mimic the prevention of new life, up to 2074, when private companies Tech experimented with downloading the brain scans of the dead in the unspeakable new bodies. A wise consisting of exploration of greed, loss and sadness of indifference, more life is an incredible -believing human play about technology.
Victor (Marc Elliott) is our futuristic Frankenstein, a bulldozing consultant who is obsessed with developing, care and a dead woman he hopes to be the first success in his company’s experiments. As Vic brought Bridget (Alison Halstead) into a kind of life, the amazing -the ensemble’s accurately accurate watch as he tried his new body. Under the delicate direction of James Yeatman, the voice was destroyed, isolated from physical form. The Halstead is amazing here, isolated from his own body, the feet are suddenly stiff and unknown.
Shankho Chaudhuri’s set, surprisingly chameleonic for something super orange, resembles what someone will think of in the 70s. We are sure to think that we can predict our future more accurately today. Written by Lauren Mooney (Dramaturgy by Mooney and Gillian Greer), the story is inspired by Silicon Valley Tech Bros investments, but the ensemble squabbles in details show how uncertain that we remain about what’s up ahead.
Much of Kandinsky’s work began in New Diorama under David Byrne, who is now artistic director of the King of the court. More life is a clear indication of the vision he brings to him. The pace drops to the second half, but there is so much to contact. Beyond intellectual and ethical debates, this play has been stabbed to the heart. Tim McMullan Roils as Bridget’s wife, unable to cope with the shock of his return. He stared at him because one was an old videotape. Helen Schlesinger was gently tightly as her second husband, who had been dosting uncomfortable counting and pain for her own lack of innocence.
The title of the show’s working is the sacks of meat, a transhumanist phrase used to refer to our material forms. By investigating the possibility of deceiving hunger, illness and death, Kandinsky explains what we have lost in our conquest of immortality, and shows some kind of amazing -surprisingly in the saggy, tired, fierce sacks of meat of ours.
