‘The Strange Secret of Mr. Adrian Rook’ Takes Viewers on an Uneven Ride (Review)

Here’s a dirty little secret that we don’t talk about enough: some of our favorite lockdown-era theatre shows work well in spite of Zoom, not because of it.

I certainly have sympathy for immersive creators who find themselves wanting to make digital work in this era and balancing the tradeoffs of the familiarity and ubiquity of Zoom with lesser known, lesser used platforms. I also understand those who choose to eschew performing over video completely, acknowledging that their work may not translate over webcam. I’ve even written about methods to add various forms of packaging, recipes, and rituals to the popular video conferencing platform to make it feel more like something which it’s not, by augmenting its core feature set with text messaging, a community Slack or Discord, a custom web site, and more. I applaud the tenacity of those who continually experiment in trying to make Zoom feel more human, more alive, and more intimate during these absurdly challenging times. Unfortunately, not all such experiments succeed, which is the place where I find myself currently.

In The Secret of Mr. Adrian Rook by Houston’s award-winning Strange Bird Immersive, our small group of 7 households (for me, a mix of friends and strangers) linearly traverses the “cars” of a “Zoom train” as we meet six different characters over the course of 90 minutes. Each scene is just under 15 minutes; we bounce back and forth between a website that serves up the most current Zoom link on a timer and the Zoom application itself. On paper, this sounds like it could work, that it should work. However, in practice, this “ping pong” between Zoom rooms mostly serves to accentuate the hard edges of the technology, rather than disguising them or wrapping them up in something more palatable. We must move as a pack, we are dependent upon the web site timer, and we have no options but to go through the encounters in a specific order as dictated by the experience’s creators. Through the course of Mr. Adrian Rook, I find myself eventually cringing each time we hit a countdown clock or a Zoom waiting room or even hear the inevitably jarring “ding dong” chime after entering a room. Even a beautifully designed web site with impeccable timing can’t overcome how bumpy the participant experience feels. Overall, I’m a little too aware of the clock and how much time we’ve spent with each performer.

And why are “we” here, exactly? We, the audience, find ourselves literally at Strange Bird Immersive — the immersive venue itself is, oddly, part of the world — which is host to a number of different businesses. We have come to attend a virtual open house of the tenants at Strange Bird. The “owner” of the space, The Raven Queen, is present only as a disembodied voice on camera; her face has never been seen by her tenants. And, her beloved assistant, Adrian Rook (Wesley Whitson), has gone missing; it reads as concerning, but not too concerning to all involved. Additionally, the characters are keenly aware of the pandemic’s existence; there are multiple references to lockdown in the dialogue. At some point I am distracted by a large bottle of Amazon Solimo-branded hand sanitizer in the background of a character’s monologue. This is also a world where both magic and science coexist. Some but not all of the costume choices read as old-timey. The people we meet are somewhat worried about Adrian but also must engage random-seeming visitors to their businesses. I find that I probably spend more time than necessary attempting to articulate and parse the rules of this world; I confess, I still have a lot of questions.

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(Moderate spoilers follow.)

As for the vignettes themselves, each of the six character interactions lands with varying degrees of success. I find myself skeptical of the barkeep Vivian Mae (Amanda Marie Parker) who both asks for a personal secret from the audience not ten minutes into the show while also blatantly sharing the secrets of others who’ve confided in her in the past. One of my show companions eagerly volunteers one of his recurring dreams to the neurologist Dr. Riley Newmark (Lexie Jackson) as she shares what her research is about; she attempts to incorporate it into what she is saying to us, but it doesn’t fit quite right into her prepared lines. I am delighted by the humorous proprietor of the Whiskey and Welding shop (Brendan O’Neill, played by J. Cameron Cooper) as his encounter shows off some special effects and we banter about various whiskeys. I greatly enjoy when the alluring medium Madam Daphne (Haley E.R. Cooper) turns the tables upon us and asks us to read her fortune instead. But we also find some severe technical difficulties during the scene with Professor Gene Hazard (played by Bradley Winkler). The professor’s video and audio continually cut out during his presentation and when he attempts to share a slideshow, my Zoom app shows me only a black screen. Every other syllable drops out and as his video freezes. (I am later informed that these technical difficulties were resolved for other patrons by showing a recorded video of a different actor instead.) That said, the acting overall in Adrian Rook is sincere, and even quite earnest, plus I feel the cast are doing their best to connect with the audience. But for a significant portion of the show it reads as if they are performing at us, rather than with us, and there are limited opportunities for improvisation based upon audience interaction.

I also find myself wondering about the stakes involved in the scenario as described: your mysterious landlord’s administrative assistant is missing and has been missing for quite some time. And yet, none of the building’s tenants seem all that distraught about his absence or as if they know more than they’re letting on (save for The Raven Queen). Meanwhile, the audience are tasked with solving the mystery as well as taking in a variety of more mundane demos and presentations. Even as I try to wrap my head around the situation, I find there’s an odd lack of dramatic tension or urgency as the action unfolds. I’m looking for the ticking time bomb under the bus seat and I don’t find one.

Ultimately, what proved so frustrating about The Secret of Mr. Adrian Rook was that the resolution of the mystery proved to be quite simple and straightforward, but meant very little to me from an emotional standpoint by the end of the night. (Spoiler alert: with the audience’s help, we figure out what has become of the missing Mr. Adrian Rook.) The answer to the overarching riddle feels quite obvious in retrospect; I’m assuming it was designed that way, to ensure that no groups of audiences would fail. But while explanation makes sense in the moment, this last monologue also feels long-winded and the lore dump overly complicated. This Rook guy seems like a nice fellow and I’m sure his friends did miss him while he was gone but as he speaks, I struggle to pay attention. And after a long, bumpy trip — with all the ups and downs that came before this — well, I can’t exactly say I was eager for this journey to continue.

The Strange Secret of Mr. Adrian Rook runs through October 10; tickets are $30 per person.

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