Perish the Thought

Men are really just boys with cooler toys

by Mark Cofta

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Published: Jun 12, 2007

NERD ALERT: Trey Lyford, Gabriel Quinn Bauriedel and Geoff Sobelle in machines machines machines machines machines machines machines. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

As much as I urge students to think a little more, I find myself needing a reminder to think less � and the message came through loud and clear in Rainpan43's charming, whimsical machines machines machines machines machines machines machines.

The 2002 Live Arts & Fringe Festival hit, expanded by creators and performers Gabriel Quinn Bauriedel and Geoff Sobelle to include Trey Lyford, imagines paranoid geniuses augmenting their withdrawn existence with absurdly ingenious low-tech creations that hilariously brew their coffee, pour their juice, scramble their eggs and slice their bananas.

Machines designers Billy Blaise Dufala and Steven Dufala fill the cozy Alter(ed) Garage in South Philly with strings, pulleys, tubes, eye hooks, electric fans and pool balls, on Hiroshi Iwasaki's set crowded with hidden compartments and trap doors. When their creations are active, machines is fascinating fun. When seeking meaning in director Aleksandra Wolska's production, however ... don't think too much, and your brain won't hurt.

A story emerges, but the infectious joy in machines is the theatrical equivalent of watching children playing with toys. Bauriedel plays the trio's "chief commander," whose voice blends Jimmy Stewart and South Park's Mr. Mackey, mm-kay? Lyford walks like one of Star Trek's half-human, half-machine Borg and mumbles into a microphone, mouthing buzzing, clicking electronic accompaniment to his actions with pre-computer sound devices (reel-to-reel, phonograph, cassette recorder). Sobelle narrates his machinations with grand tales of adventure; a complex cereal-pouring device, inspires a dragon-slaying legend.

They take phone calls from God and subdue a needy cat, but mainly just play and play and play with their toys � maintaining giddy faith in their inventions even when their milk-pouring contraption overshoots the bowl and the shaving thingamajig douses Bauriedel in foam.

One could easily inflate machines to the level of post-apocalyptic commentary, i.e. technological over-dependence leads to man's downfall (portrayed in surprisingly stirring scotch-taped projections showing ice caps melting and a stranded polar bear floating by) � but we know where all that thinking leads. Ouch. The thrilled 10-year-old (no, not me, a real kid) at last Saturday's performance understood better than the rest of us that men are really just boys with cooler toys.

(m_cofta@citypaper.net)

Machines Machines Machines ...

Through June 17, Rainpan43, at the Alter(ed) Garage, 818 Alter St., 215-531-3185, www.machinesmachinesmachines.com

 

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