Conceived and curated by: Noelle Krimm. At: The Neo-Futurarium, 5153 N. Ashland ( above Nelson's Funeral Home ) Phone: 773-275-5255; $15-$10 seniors, students. Runs through: Oct 31
The most unnerving aspect of the Neo-Futurist's interactive excursion into the world of Edgar Allen Poe has little to do with the celebrated tragic author. Cynicsor theatergoers more sophisticated than ourselveswill dismiss the mid-show shocker as transparent, manipulative artifice. But huddled in the dark alley outside Nelson's Funeral Home as our guide through the Neo-Futurist's horror show ripped off her mask and screamed for someone to dial 9-1-1, we were truly freaked the heck out.
As sirens wailed in the background, our claustrophobic, trippy fall down the Neo's nightmarish rabbit-hole continued.
Curated and conceived by Noelle Krimm, Fear is at times disquieting, but it isn't among the Neo's greatest endeavors. If you aren't familiar with the Poe's story the Fall of the House of Usher; his great, fearsome poem "The Bells;" or the horrific particulars of The Pit and the Pendulum, Fear won't resonate as it might otherwise.
Our guide of this house of macabre wonders was a character from Usher. ( Audience members go through in groupsthere are several costumed guides. ) Her seemingly nonsensical ramblings will seem over the top and derivative of a thousand schlock-horror movies if you don't know Poe's story. And while a bloodied, mummified bride is scary in and of herself, she's a whole lot more so when you know her as Poe's masterful creation.
Audience members are on their feet for most of the hour-long tour, grasping the long, shroud-like wedding veil train as the tormented bride leads the way down dark, stifling hallways, past grimacing portraits and into rooms where manic, malevolent porcine creatures maraud on two legs like some dastardly version of Animal Farm.
It's all the stuff of the nightmares to be sure, but until things seem to veer dangerously off script in the alley, the show has a static feel to it despite the fact that the audience is constantly on the move. In many respects, the bride guide seems more like a spoof of something scary than the real thing. The constant murk is a problem: Sure darkness is to be expected in a haunted house, but when you can't make out what's going on in the show, that darkness becomes more annoying than it is scary. Those standing toward the back of the train for the interactive painting demonstration and the puppet show will be left craning their necks and wondering what's going on in the front of the room.
Perhaps the most memorably chilling part of the production lies just before it starts, as the audience is forced to step around a hollow-eyed woman burying herself alive. This image of dirt and decay is a hideous reminder of that which we all know will eventually occur but which we all utterly deny. Now that's really scary.