Zombie apocalypse at BLB gets dragged down by humans


One of the three characters in Schrödinger's Apocalypse notes the similarity of the situation they face to those portrayed in No Exit and Waiting for Godot. Okay, sure, but there's a much more precise analogue that it's surprising these movie-loving characters don't mention: the recent film 10 Cloverfield Lane, in which a young woman and a young man find themselves locked in a survival bunker with an older man who insists they're waiting out a global disaster that may or may not actually be occurring.

Bryant-Lake Bowl Theater

The bunker-builder in Schrödinger's Apocalypse, a Fearless Comedy production now onstage at the Bryant-Lake Bowl, is George (Tim Uren). A zombie enthusiast with inexplicably vast financial resources, George built a luxe subterranean shelter (there's a hot tub and a bowling alley, we're told) to serve as his "man-cave" for watching horror flicks — and, in case of an actual zombie apocalypse, a venue for lifelong survival.

When zombies do in fact begin to rampage, George doesn't even try to suppress his glee. He puts his fortress on lockdown, joined by fellow refugees Dawn (Dawn Krosnowski) and Peter (John Zeiler), a dating couple who've escaped with only a box of vintage comics and a Klingon bat'leth (Google it, if you care). Will they ever be able to re-emerge into the outside world? That depends, as George points out with the help of a flip-chart, on exactly what kind of zombie threat they're facing. Slow or fast? Viral or undead?

Playwright Tim Wick and director Bill Stiteler get some mileage — and could have got a lot more — out of the sitcom possibilities in this situation. George continuously gloats about his prescience, and complains about the inclination of Peter and Dawn to make out on the gaming couch instead of using one of the shelter's 10 beds. In the play's funniest moment (praise that unfortunately isn't saying much), George explains with unnecessary specificity what he does to satisfy his own sexual urges.

Most of the hour-long running time dribbles away in a series of tedious vignettes where each of the characters complains about how annoying the others are — and we're not inclined to disagree. The show's conclusion features an abrupt shift of tone, with Peter experiencing some important personal growth. Wait, this was a play about character development? Someone forgot to tell the zombies.