Playwright: Tif Harrison and cast. At: Neo-Futurists, 5153 N. Ashland Ave. Tickets: 773-275-5255; Neofuturists.org; $10-$25 ( pay-what-you-can Thurs. ). Runs through: Nov. 19
Sometimes the Neo-Futurists present plays and sometimes performance pieces, with 2016 devoted to the latter.
Saturn Returns is the third Neo-Futurist work I've seen since February in which loosely assembled theatrical devices serve as psychodrama through which an artist exorcises his/her demons. The first piece, Pop Waits, was the best, possibly because it had principal characters with emotional through-lines as plays do, even though it wasn't a play. Saturn Returns has neither, presenting five writer/performers of equal weight within the show, although none has anything approaching a sustained arc of action or emotion. The scattershot result provides amusing bits here and thoughtful bits there, but ultimately lacks force.
Tif Harrison is billed as Creator ( capital "c" ), not just another writer/performer. Her framing concept concerns the orbit of Saturn, which takes 29.5 years. Astrology says that you will have a climactic year whenever Saturn returns to the orbit point it held when you were born, approximately ages 29-30 and 58-60. One can expect to experience an eventful death, a meaningful relationship or its end, financial or professional success/failure, personal elation or trauma and—if this show is to be believed—quite possibly an insect infestation.
So, yeah, Saturn Returns is really quirky, filled with oddball bits seeming to support the concept: World War I ended when Hitler was 29, one actor's first car was a Saturn, Gwyneth Paltrow's father died when she was 29 ( and he was 58 ), etc. Harrison extends the so-called Saturn Year to ages 27-31 to cover the actual ages of herself and her co-performers, each of whom offers personal details which mostly fit the pattern, although some are intentionally amusing stretches.
But what actually is offered is something much more personal to each performer. One, a musician, observes that "The intention of sound is as good as sound itself," while another cautions us to "Learn the difference between intention and compulsion," while Harrison herself declares, late in the 100-minute show, "I'm here to teach you about being alone." That's a tip-off, for the show's precipitating incident is the death of Harrison's father, and each performer explores loss or loneliness—actual or only feared—in some form.
The performers do not act—that is, they don't create characters. They play themselves, project their own personalities and improvise a little. This doesn't mean they haven't rehearsed the set material and the extensive physical business, most of which defies brief description—everyone frequently rings a desk bell, there are projections, people play with water—yet Jen Ellison's direction seems minimal and loose. The wide stage is inhabited by Saturn Returns and its few props, not designed for it. Jason Richard's music is good. Hey, Neo-Futurists: I'm ready for a play again!
