A lot of off-Broadway theater makes extensive use of video nowadays. In January, the Gob Squad company offered the stunt-like “Super Night Shot,” in which the actors screened footage of themselves roaming the East Village in real time — without any live performance onstage.
So it was alarming to hear the British-German troupe was back with a new video-heavy project, “Gob Squad’s Kitchen (You’ve Never Had It So Good).” Billed as a tribute to Andy Warhol’s plotless, often drugged-out movies, particularly the 1965 Edie Sedgwick vehicle “Kitchen,” the show also features audience participation. Yikes.
But despite these ominous odds, “Gob Squad’s Kitchen” is smart, witty and constantly entertaining — a wonderful integration of film and theater.
As we enter the Public’s Newman Theater, we’re guided behind the screen that blocks out the stage — yes, the entire time — for a peek at the set, which includes the title’s kitchen, where a pair of actors are making toast.
When the action proper starts, we watch it via video feed. Simon Will, playing “Simon,” introduces the premise, and we soon realize that the show isn’t so much a remake of those Warhol films as an annotated re-enactment.
The four cast members are in geeky awe of the Pop Art master’s cool Factory scene, and try to reproduce its affectless style with sometimes comic, sometimes poetic results.
Like Warhol’s “superstars,” the Gob Squadders are being themselves — but not really. Sedgwick look-alike Sharon Smith (“Sharon”), in pigtails and black eyeliner, tries to doze on camera, like John Giorno in the movie “Sleep” (which consisted of him sleeping for more than five hours). Sarah Thom strikes poses, as if in one of Warhol’s “Screen Tests.” Nina Tecklenburg emulates “Eat” by ingesting spoonfuls of Grey Poupon.
“Let’s do sexual tension!” Simon exclaims. “Let’s do a party!” Nina shoots back.
These shenanigans will delight those familiar with Warhol’s originals, but you can have fun even if you’ve never seen them.
All the more so when, in an inspired move, “Gob Squad’s Kitchen” incorporates theatergoers into the mix.
The actors turn four volunteers from the audience into stand-ins by remote-controlling them via headsets. It’s an inspired way to duplicate Warhol’s mix of improvisation and calculation, fake and real, but it’s also funny on its own.
By the end, the confusion between live and video, 1960s and 2010s is complete — and you’re too charmed to care what’s what.