A miasma of madness seeps from the foundations of The Scruffy Bunny. Tonight, the Great Old Ones will have their millennia-long slumber disturbed. We will glimpse the realms of chaos and nightmare that exist beyond our own.  

Azathoth, the blind idiot god who dreams the Universe, we invoke thee. Abholos, the devourer in the mist, born of bile and tears, rise. Nyarlathotep, the crawling chaos, wake. Shub-Niggurath, the black goat of the woods with a thousand young, come. Hastur the unspeakable, we call upon you.

All shall be summoned through that most eldritch and arcane of magicks – Improvised theatre.

Howard Phillips Lovecraft was an American author, active in the early Twentieth Century. His work draws together elements of gothic literary traditions, mystery, suspense and science fiction. It oozes a cosmic, metaphysical dread. In Lovecraft’s writings, all that we perceive as real is but a thin veil cast over a yawning abyss filled with unnameable horrors.

The Wellington Improvisation Troupe (WIT) are seasoned travellers of the oneiric and transitory land-scape of improvised theatre. Quite by chance, many are direct descendants of people once interviewed by HP Lovecraft himself (according to their press release, at least). For there is a previously-obscured chapter in Lovecraft’s life.

In early 1925, he caught a steam-ship across the Southern seas to the small island nation of New Zealand. Here he spoke with farmers and fisher-folk, hearing many strange stories and ultimately catching a glimpse of things that humankind was never meant to witness. These accounts, altered slightly and relocated to North America, underpin his most famous works. WIT present – for the first-time ever – these experiences in their original setting.

Tonight’s saga begins at Masseytonik University. We – the audience – represent the assembled student body. We take our seats in the lecture theatre, rising only to greet the faculty. We are welcomed and then the proctor takes the stand. His quavering and hesitant manner bespeaks a man who has seen too much and fears that worse is to follow. He has a dire warning for us. There are certain buildings within the University grounds that we are advised to avoid. Three locations are plucked from the audience and so the grave tale unfolds…

The proctor acts as narrator – setting the scene and spurring the story onwards when scenes threaten to stall. Tonight, it also falls to him to ensure that the horror is sufficiently existential and Lovecraftian.

The members of WIT work well together. As a troupe, they boast an effective and playful onstage chemistry. Each character is well-defined and maintained throughout the many, many narrative convolutions.

Almost every member of the troupe is quick to extend offers and the others swiftly accept and develop the endowments fluently, adding details to the scenario. Some players are sharper on the uptake than others.

A large number of tonight’s suggestions are utterly inspired. Machinations hastily emerge. Every character conceals a secret. There are conspiracies in abundance. Secret liaisons and mysterious manipulations. There is poison in the cabbage soup, an ageless professor, and a millennia-old monster stirring in the foundations of the old library. In fact, there are an over-abundance of offers. As a result some end up as red herrings, unable to be integrated satisfactorily into the story as a whole.

There are delightful moments and the nervy energy throughout is infectious and entertaining. Of particular note is an inspired spot of pimping that leads to the recital of a macabre poem, shared line-by-line between two players, delivered in rhyming verse.

Tonight, the conclusion feels rushed. This is probably inevitable. There are too many offers set upon the table and an exhausting array of story-strands. However, the players’ explanation for this is very witty: we are dealing with a metaphysical creature that feeds on memory, so there’s bound to be a bit of confusion.

The costuming is impressive and appealing – styled as it is after the Victorian-era, with perhaps a whiff of steampunk. The lighting is well-managed and evocative: the operator responds well to the tonal clues given by the troupe. The musical accompaniment is also excellent, with deftly-played Hammond-organ stylistically enhancing every scene.

The layout of the performance-space is clever and apt. In truth, the entire building lends itself well to the situation. The set-dressing is appropriate and amusing – particularly the stuffed octopus toy (presumably there to represent Cthulhu – Lovecraft’s most famous creation). 

Ultimately, Lovecrafted! Is an enjoyable and entertaining evening of improvised theatre. It doesn’t really echo the soul-shaking horror of Lovecraft’s writings, but it is not trying to – it’s played mostly for laughs, after all. However, it does display a pleasing familiarity with his work and goes beyond a ‘just add tentacles’ mindset. 

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