I was first made aware that it has been 200 years since Jane Austen’s death upon visiting the British Library in February. Since then, I’ve seen posters for performances of Emma, a commemorative Austen display at Blackwell's, the Which Jane Austen? exhibit at the Weston Library, and on Friday, I witnessed a theatrical interpretation of Jane Austen’s long-lost novel 3D-Printed Feelings.
This never-performed-before play was brought to life by Austentatious, a cast of improvisers dressed in Regency style, backed by violinist Alex Judd playing live music. Before the performance, Austen scholar Doctor Sam Patton (a cast member donning a cloak) warmed up the audience with “Give me a J! … Give me an A! ... Give me an N! …” and informed us that this year marks the bicentennial of Austen’s death in a tavern brawl against the Brontë sisters (anachronistic, albeit hilarious). The professor then blindly picked a few audience-suggested long-lost novel titles from a basket; Strength and Stability was summarized as the adventures of Theresa looking for a mandate, that is, a date with a man. Finally, he selected 3D-Printed Feelings (“Austen was ahead of her time in so many ways!”) and as the lights dramatically flashed off and on, the cast commenced their performance with no set dialogue, characters, or plot lines.
At the core of the play are two competing inventors, one more successful than the other after a history of superior devices, and now, he is about to unveil the first 3D printer. However, the underdog inventor and his assistant deceive the Royal Society and claim the printer as their own. In parallel, we learn about cousins from Bath (or Bath Spa?), accidentally-aged daughters, and a long-lost mother; the latter two are results of inventions gone wrong. Some actors effortlessly play multiple characters, by donning a bonnet and shawl, or taking off their tailcoat, or comically announcing “It is I, Bella Smith, not the barmaid.” Given that the same play will not be performed again, I can reveal that the designer of the 3D printer gets rightful credit after revealing that the machine is only powered by love.
My favourite aspect of the evening was that everyone saw the show unfolding before his or her eyes; no one was one step ahead of anyone else. While most of the time the performers facilitated the improvisation for their cast members, perhaps the funniest parts were when they sabotaged each other: ending a scene early (signalled by an actor running across the stage in front of the performers), or in forcing them to mime several cloths, covers, cages, and boxes upon revealing the enclosed 3D printer. Another humorous aspect arose after a name flub, in which the inventor’s assistant started calling Malcolm, Martin. This came back to jokingly haunt him in several scenes, culminating with his own name being Martin Maaaaartin (you had to be there). The extemporaneous play even included a comic faux-motif: roses. The successful inventor, Malcolm, explained how “every flower needs its stem” as an analogy for love and the invention process, had a covert meeting in the Royal Society rose garden, and compared different women to stems with or without thorns.
Aside from the 3D printer reference, the group successfully combined aspects of 1814 and 2017. The play opens with cousins Malcolm and Jessica amicably browsing books in the library and ends with their engagement, something that was not frowned upon two centuries ago. Running with the invention theme, there are mentions of remote controls (but with nothing to control, yet), nuclear experiments, carriage FM radio, as well as Lord Gates and Lord Jobs.
Best of all, Austentatious brought together Janeites, Regency era enthusiasts, and those who wanted some improv-induced laughs on a Friday night. I hope to see another side-splitting Austentatious performance again soon, perhaps with my friend’s suggested title of Northanger Abbey Road.