Entertainment

Hot club fun time machine

‘She’s a real drama queen, that one,” whispered a shady-looking guy. And I, sipping from the coffee cup a winking bartender had just poured some liquor into, had to agree.

Even as immersive theater goes, Cynthia von Buhler’s “Speakeasy Dollhouse” — performed in what’s said to be mobster Meyer Lansky’s old hangout — demands an extraordinary level of commitment from its audience. Judging by the enthusiastic crowd at a recent performance, many of them decked out in ’30s-era fedoras, people are game to try.

The action begins as soon as you reserve a ticket, with a series of e-mailed, old-timey legal documents and newspaper articles about von Buhler’s grandfather, whose real-life murder inspired the piece. Eventually, you’re given the address of a “Spano’s Bakery” on the Lower East Side — along with a password that will get you past the cops manning the gate.

Once in the bakery, you can join in a card game, nibble on a cannoli or even have a haircut in the tiny adjoining barbershop. After a while, you’re led to the club itself, where a five-piece band plays ’30s jazz. It’s there you’ll meet an assortment of colorful types: the club owner, his very pregnant wife and young son, flappers and burlesque dancers and the notorious gangster Dutch Schultz.

You can wander around at will, exploring a cozy bedroom and a coroner’s office replete with horrific-looking medical instruments and crime-scene photos. Eventually you’ll become witness to, and a participant in, a heated melodrama involving adultery, murder, birth, a wake and — naturally — a raid by the police.

Although wonderful at evoking its Prohibition time period, “Speakeasy Dollhouse” could use a little help in the drama department. The clunky dialogue and stilted performances are more “Tony n’ Tina’s Wedding” than “Sleep No More,” and the ever-shifting action is frequently hard to follow in the cramped rooms. That ’30s vibe is seriously compromised by live Twitter feeds telling you where to go next, and the intermittent flashes of light from theatergoers’ cameras are terribly distracting.

All told, though, you can have a memorable experience here, especially if you’re willing to play along. With tickets just $20 to $30 a shot — cannolis extra — it’s also a killer bargain.