immersive theater

“The Cooping Theory” Brings Us to Poe’s Old Haunts


It’s near impossible to read any of Edgar Allan Poe’s works without connecting their dark, unnerving despair with that of his own life. Orphaned at an early age, Poe’s adulthood was characterized by debt, failure, and the deaths of those closest to him, including his wife Virginia. Two years after Virginia’s death, Poe was found delirious and incoherent in the streets of Baltimore, wearing clothes that were not his own. He passed away a few days later. His death has been shrouded in gothic mystery and controversy, and the eerie circumstances surrounding it are reminiscent of those in his writings.

This is the launching point of Poseidon Theatre Company’s new immersive work, The Cooping Theory: Who Killed Edgar Allan Poe? The year is 1949, a century after Poe’s death. Audience members are invited down to the speakeasy cellar of St. Mazie Bar and Supper Club in Brooklyn for a meeting of the Poe Society. During the hour-long dinner service (which was very tasty), the society’s three members introduce themselves to you. There’s Virginia (Caroline Banks), a scholar named after Poe’s wife. John (Jeffrey Robbs) is a psychologist financing the society and James (Gordon Palagi) is a skeptic whose opinions often get ignored.

Here’s largely where the immersive nature of the production comes into play. More Great Comet than Sleep No More, the actors interact with you and around you while you are seated, though they may pull you aside for a brief chat in the hallway. They also might give you an incensed stick to burn to purify the area. I’ve wondered in the past about what actually constitutes as ‘immersive,’ but PTC’s definition vividly appeals to all the senses.

Gordon Palagi in “The Cooping Theory.” Photo by Johannes Oberman

The society has invited a medium (Dara Kramer) to call upon Poe’s ghost to solve the mystery of his death once and for all. The title refers to the society’s best working theory: a 19th century practice known as ‘cooping’ in which political gangs kidnapped strangers and forced them to vote multiple times at different stations under different aliases, often in disguise. The victims were often drugged and beaten if they did not comply.


The medium is successful at contacting Poe, but with complications, as supernatural events are wont to have. But what follows doesn’t ever manage to raise the stakes for any drama to unfold. At its best, The Cooping Theory is an homage to Poe’s writing and a meditation on the grief mirrored in his life and his works. There are beautiful recitations from “The Raven” and “Annabel Lee,” among others. But the story never develops fully to make us invested in the society’s mission. Their plot feels doomed from the start.


That the production does do well is setting a melancholic, though inviting atmosphere for us to relive Poe’s desperate final years. This is in large part due to the music and sound design by Conor Heffernan and Manuel “Cj” Pelayo. This is a gratifying part of the immersion of the play. Their lush, surrounding sounds helped move the events of the play forward. St. Mazie itself also works wonders in setting the feel of the play. The actors note that Poe himself passed through the one-time speakeasy, and it certainly feels it. The long, gloomy, candlelit corridor stretching back to the entrance makes a perfectly spooky entry point for the seance’s host.


The Cooping Theory: Who Killed Edgar Allan Poe? is directed by Aaron Salazar and written by Nate Suggs and Samantha Lacey-Johnson. It plays at St. Mazie Bar and Supper Club. Tickets here.

Is ‘Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812’ Immersive Theatre?

I finally got to see Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 last week and it was pretty fantastic. The songwriting by Dave Malloy is fresh and energetic– there’s no soundtrack (yet) but I’ve been listening to samples from Malloy’s website.  More importantly, the songs (this is an opera by the way, so everything’s in song) are quite adept at telling its epic story. They know when to be heart-wrenching, emotional ballads. They know when to be didactical and practical. The opening number goes through the character list, singing “This is all in your program.” Act 2’s opening reminds us about how things used to be way back when– “In 19th Century Russia, we write letters, we write letters.”

The cast is equally versatile and savvy. There’s not one member of the cast who doesn’t dazzle with their unique performance style.

Work it, sexy cast

But it seems like Natasha’s selling point is its innovative theatrical form. Audience members are seated in a gorgeous restaurant/club style space. Each table is decked with small appetizers and a complimentary shot of a vodka cocktail. More comf. ortable seating means a more expensive ticket. I was seated with four other people around a small round table which would really have been better fit for three diners tops. The restaurant decor is lush and filled with plenty to dazzle. The waiters took good care of us and circulated regularly for questions or orders. And the food’s pretty good but portioned rather small when you have to share with four other people (again more food for more money).

Before the performance, one of the head waiters informed our table that the show was immersive, but not interactive– so keep your hands to yourselves. Nowadays, immersive theater is very high in demand. Sleep No More basically solidified its success and smaller ‘immersive’ productions have sprouted up around the city (Then She Fell has enjoyed success in Greenpoint). “Immersive” also tends to mean a hefty price tag. Because there’s no hierarchical seating plan as at a regular theater, theatergoers all pay the same price for the same experience (as opposed to different prices for different seats or views of the stage). It’s a more democratic model, and there are no $200 orchestra seats,  but the plan means more out-of-pocket for theatregoers who are used to paying $69 for balcony seats and must now pay $110+ for immersive shows. Also, because of immersive theatre’s hot commodity status, there are few discounts floating around (Months into its run, Natasha had some limited discounts and is only now offering $49 student rush tickets, but only on matinees). Sleep No More offers little in price flexibility and every new e-mail I get from the McKittrick Hotel, it seems like their events get pricier and pricier.

Whether you think the immersive theatre experience is worth the commodity price, Natasha is no Sleep No More. I’m still trying to figure out what exactly makes Natasha immersive. Here are some possibilities:

1) “Immersive” technically means that something engages all your senses. I guess Natasha does do this by wine-ing and dining us while giving us a show. But how is this different from going to a nice murder mystery dinner theater? The food has nothing to do with Natasha’s storyline. In fact, it’s separated distinctively from the show itself (Food happens pre-show and during intermission.) Hold this in contrast to stealing a piece of candy from the witches’ candy shop at Sleep No More. Sure, a gumdrop pales in comparison to plates of chicken and salmon, but it becomes a much more interesting sensual experience a) because you are not being served the gumdrop, you are essentially ripping it from the set and b) the gumdrop is inherently part of the actual theatrical plot and tone.  If I get some fish n’ chips in the lobby of Once, do I somehow connect more magically with the sharacters?

2) “Immersive” means that you’re surrounded by the actors (as opposed to watching them from afar) and doing things that they tell you to do to help with the storytelling. Was it cool to have actors dancing and singing inches away from me? Sure. Especially the good-looking ones. Does that make it immersive? Meh. Was it cool when the waiters handed out little egg-shakers to people in the audience during intermission and told us to shake them during the “Balaga” number and then when I forgot to, I got prodded in the back by some random ensemble member to remind me? Was that supposed to make me more excited about the song somehow? Again, immersive? Or just weird micromanaging?

3) “Immersive” means you have a contribution in the show’s progress so that it’s different every time. While it’s a nice thought, that doesn’t really happen in Natasha… unless me not shaking my egg-shaker will be detrimental to quite-adept band’s rhythm.

Here’s what I’m trying to say: Natasha works at its best when it’s not trying to ‘immerse’ us in vague ‘immersive immersion-ness.’ Some shows are made for immersive experiences. They are usually the ones where there’s no real set-out plot, where theatregoers get a choice in what they do, what happens, and whether or not to steal that piece of candy. Natasha  is a beautiful musical, beautifully-acted, and beautifully-choreographed. I actually regretted the parts when things like shaking my egg and who’s going to get that last piece of chicken interfered with my experience of the show.


Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: