Pink Sun at the Vortex

Like a woman in a wheelchair chasing teenagers in a crowd, much of this production begs the question, “Where the hell did that come from?” The show’s creator and leading male Chad Salvata, looking a lot like Darth Vader without the helmet, stomps around in elevator boots holding up miniature clouds or other props that could be found in a baby's crib. His singing voice sounds pleasantly like David Bowie, though many of his lyrics are indiscernible. A few that I could catch repeat on the show’s catchiest tune, I am Muscle: "I rape angels, I am Muscle, I make demigods". This comes soon after he air-rapes co-performer Melissa Vogt-Patterson from behind, which made me think the pink cone hat he wears does, in fact, symbolize an uncircumcised male sexual organ.

While any story line is pretty much up to audience interpretation (unless you read the program synopsis before hand), there is a certain musical chemistry that makes it feel like the acting-out of a concept album. Vogt-Patterson has an impressive wail that swirls well with Salvata’s dead pan Ziggy Stardust, and the entire composition sounds like a mix of the Eurythmics’ metallic 1984 soundtrack and Goth night at the Elysium. Guitarist Sergio R. Samayoa, not a particularly visible component hidden towards the back of the stage, offers the show’s strongest moments, picking sparse but full guitar riffs that sound like an underwater score.

Though I am a huge fan of the weird, sometimes Pink Sun feels a bit more like the landlord’s awkward improvisational dancing in The Big Lebowski than the sort of Sci-Fi masterpiece it may have been shooting for. Still, the ambitious attempt to create an alternate universe on stage deserves applause. Pushing the conventions of normal is exactly the sort of thing that makes theatre in Austin so exciting—and the Vortex seems to be at the front of the movement.