Fuerza Bruta

by Sam Norton

For those of you who have seen one too many abstract performances and have declared “Enough!” I may just have the performance to shake you off your wagon. Aesthetically and sensationally pleasing, Fuerza Bruta (which in Spanish means “Brute Force”) may be abstract, but it is much, much more.

Upon entering the Daryl Roth Theater, the first sign that this is no ordinary show comes with the complete absence of seats. Instead, you find yourself thrust into a throng of people, huddled at the center of an enormous fog filled room. The show follows the story of a lone man, ever persevering through the endeavors with which life unabashedly chucks at him, while he walks on a giant treadmill. This would seem to be the plot, however as the actors begin to dance, you begin to realize that the story has taken an unexpected turn. The very ground on which you are standing becomes a dance floor, and you are expected to shake your hips. If you are the kind of person who stiffens with the prospect of dancing, you may think that this is a cruel joke, but as the audience starts to flail and jump wildly with the dancers, you feel the music’s infectious techno-funk rhythm impossible to resist. You, too, become another flailing jumping idiot in the middle of a flailing jumping crowd.

“Look Up,” say the poster, which you noticed upon entering the show. "For what?" You might ask yourself, until you notice a woman, illuminated by bright beams of light, sifting through a small see-through pool directly above your head. She descends as if from the heavens joined by three others, until the pool becomes close enough to you to touch your nose to the pool.

The true oddity of Fuerza Bruta, is that the show is just as alive as the performers. At any time, it might awe you from one end, creep around you from the corner and tap you on the shoulder. No one movement can be expected--every action as authentic as the next. For better or for worse, Fuerza Bruta has been burned into your head, standing out above all the rest. The originality of the show leaves you flabbergasted; its zany dances and delectable imagery are enough to warm the heart of even the iciest critic. While the plot still remains a mystery, you leave the show feeling invigorated. You want to bring this feeling out onto the streets, and give everyone in New York City a taste of Brute force.

Tickets: $25 general rush • Daryl Roth Theatre, 101 E. 15 St.

Family Week

by Sam Norton

Family Week is a twisted, yet undeniably funny play that tells the story of a family, their hardships, and how they learn to cope with the rough hand that life has dealt them.

Claire has checked herself into a rehabilitation center in the Arizona desert, far out in the middle of nowhere, after the death of her 17-year-old son. Claire's mother, sister and and daughter arrive for Family Week to help Claire, they find themselves in need of help themselves. Trying to compensate for her pitiful previous attempts at motherhood, Lena arrives in a desperate attempt to reconcile her mistakes. Kay copes with the death of her only sibling, her abusive mother’s frail state, the fresh divorce of her parents, and the unforgiving pains of puberty and high school. Claire’s sister Rickey would seem to be the only comic relief, but as the play delves deeper into her character, there is nothing funny about her. Together, these four women probe through their pasts, under the watchful eye of the staff, to discover a way to live with the horrors that haunt them.

Family Week is a beautifully written, sassy, well-acted play. It’s fast-paced and packed with loose ends that allow the audience to understand for themselves what the characters are going through. Each line is delivered and written in the most poignant manner so as to twist and mold your emotions.

When it comes to the tragedy of life, this play does not beat around the bush. When you exit the theatre, you feel every bit as empty and alone as the characters of the play. Family Week, with it’s very real people and very real emotions, will bring a pang to your heart.

TICKETS: thru May 23 • $15 student rush • Lucille Lortel Theatre, 121 Christopher St.