Defying the laws of physics: The Passengers
Circus troupe The 7 Fingers explores time and space in trains
Photo courtesy of Sébastien Lozé
The Passengers
Written by Shana Carroll
Directed by Shana Carroll
American Repertory Theater
Sept. 2 - Sept. 26
This September, the American Repertory Theater brings together acrobatics, theater, and the laws of physics in Shana Carroll’s Passengers.
The Passengers tells the non-linear story of a rag-tag group all travelling on the same train together. The 7 Fingers, a French-Canadian circus troupe, each play different passengers. Writer, choreographer, and director Shana Caroll describes Passengers’s core thesis emerging after a close friend of hers passed away at a young age. In the process of grieving, Caroll developed the message of the show, regarding life as such: “Two rails of the tracks as parallel tracks, and it’s joyful and celebratory, beautiful and fun, and it’s also tragic, and people die early.” When one is in the process of grieving, life can seemingly flash in-and-out of being happy and sad, and time itself can feel like it’s stretching endlessly or going by too quickly.
Most striking of all is the play’s ability to infuse the themes of grief, time, joy and community with impressive acrobatic feats. Memorable acts include Amanda Orozco’s aerial silks performance and Santiago Rivera’s juggling routine, which includes duo trapeze acrobatics and hula hooping. These performances each complement a “scene” of train travel For example, the backdrop of Téo Le Baut’s Chinese pole act is reminiscent of poles one might see out the window of a train car.
In an interesting fusion of science and the arts, Caroll delivers this message through circus acts and a brief interlude — given by performer Michael Patterson — about Einstein’s theory of general relativity. Patterson explains the famous “lighting strike paradox” that shows how lighting seemingly striking two ends of a train “simultaneously” appears in time differently depending on the observer’s frame of reference.
The 7 Fingers perform act after act, seemingly defying the laws of physics themselves and masterfully emphasizing their cheeky exploration of our perception of time and space. Performers are thrown around in the air, swing from fabric to fabric, and juggle and sing all at once, challenging our perception of motion.
Carroll’s original message about the absurd juxtaposition of life — especially through a time of crisis or “in between,” being at once joyous and distressing or upbeat and melancholic — is also evident through the music accompanying these performances. The concept of time “bending” (like how a couple minutes on a train can feel like hours but rushing to catch your train can feel like a race against time) is shown through the stories the performances themselves tell; Isabella Diaz sings while weaving through performers and “freezing/unfreezing” time with a clap of her hands.
Beyond the performers’ incredible physical feats, The Passengers also makes wonderful use of shadows and minimal sets to create an immersive “train” experience. Set pieces mostly consist of chairs, suitcases, and luggage carts that can be reassembled as train carriages or a boarding platform, emphasizing the malleability of space and time. The train itself becomes more of a vessel for these questions to be explored, rather than the focus itself. Projections of scenic backgrounds overlaid with pre-recorded videos of the passengers’ journeys also add to the jumbled sense of time one experiences during travel.
Tying it all together, The Passengers invites us to question the subjectivity of our own lives, from viewing the passing of time on the ever-moving train to standing as an observer on the boarding platform. Perhaps our lives, full of whimsical contradictions of loss and love and beauty, are in fact just as thrilling as the seemingly impossible circus acts on stage.