Not all theaters allow patrons to drink during performances, and if they do, they typically require you do so from a sippy cup. Not so at Rorschach Theatre’s new play Angel Number Nine, an immersive theater performance mounted at a former retail space that’s been converted into a working bar and decorated as a dingy rock club. The story follows Angel (Kate Kenworthy), who leads the titular band with plenty of eye rolls, gallows humor, and passion. Though the story has some bumps, the energy of the music and the cast as well as the novelty of the setting makes this a worthwhile and diverting experience.
Angel has no shortage of demons, including a no-good ex who’s back in town, a history of sexual assault, a close friend whose death still haunts her, and a recently kicked drug habit. She’s slightly less messy than she was before, but still struggling to hold herself together and not “sleep in” past 6 p.m. To top it off, she’s being tailed by Cupid himself (Robert Bowen Smith), and she wishes he were a bare-assed baby instead of a philosophizing barfly seemingly designed to get under her skin and expose her vulnerability. At least Angel has a strong support system in her bandmates and her coffeeshop coworker and confidant Christa (Irene Hamilton, a bubbly standout).
The show is at its best during the rock numbers and when Angel is goofing around or chatting with the other characters. The original songs, written by Shawn Northrip, completely capture the ethos and feel of ’90s alt rock, and Kenworthy is a captivating frontperson, equally adept at ballads and gritty numbers. The actors who make up the band all play their own instruments and feel like a real group, down to little details like guitarist Delia’s (Veronica Rose Bundy) habit of kicking off her shoes to play in her socks. Lauren Farnell as guitarist Connie and James Carlos Lacey as drummer Jesus are especially fun, whether they’re shredding onstage or riffing about Jesus’ junker “sex car,” an inside joke nickname never to be explained.
Most of the action takes place in Richmond, but the band travels to other regional settings throughout, including stops in Charlottesville and D.C. They even perform at the Black Cat at one point (as the characters move around venues, the signs above the bar are swapped out), and these close-to-home scenes bring a documentary feel to the affair. There are strong multimedia elements, with video footage projected on screens or broadcast across mounted TVs. Some of these, such as an ironic opening dream sequence that looks like a VHS recording of Cupid visiting Angel to challenge her life choices, are clever interludes that add some nostalgic texture.
Too often though, these interstitials feature some overwrought moments meant to reveal Angel’s trauma that are too generic to truly round out the character. The video segments tend to run a little long and have the effect of bringing the story to a screeching halt—they make the audience wish for the band to get back onstage.
The story never lags for too long before it gets moving again, often literally. The scenes move around the venue as the show progresses, and viewers are encouraged to get up and find a better view when theirs is obscured by, say, a pillar plastered with flyers for Minor Threat and Dead Kennedys. The snappy dialogue and magnetic numbers keep the production chugging along, and particularly if you go out for a smoke break during intermission, you just might believe you were transported back to the ’90s. The bar opens early before each show, and the barkeep also “serves” the characters their shot and beer combos, so be sure to come early and stay until “last call” after curtain call.
Angel Number Nine, directed by Jenny McConnell Frederick and adapted by James L. Rogers III and McConnell Frederick from Rogers’ novel, with original music composed by Shawn Northrip, runs through July 30 at 1020 Connecticut Ave. NW. rorschachtheatre.com. $10–$45.