Third Rail Projects: True love… forever?
ART X NYC, New York, NY.
November 22, 2024.
Have you ever fallen in love? How long did it last? How did things end up? These seemingly simple questions were at the heart of Third Rail Projects’ True Love Forever. Part immersive theater performance, part indie rock concert, the 90-minute show written, directed and choreographed by Jennine Willett took place at Art X NYC, an intimate two-level space in the Meatpacking District. From the roses to the lampshades hanging from the ceiling to the dancers’ costumes, the color of love was everywhere: red.
“The Heartbreak Band” opened their set with a catchy pop rock song. I had no idea that the dancers were among us in the audience until the person beside me stood up and started a quick step touch motif. They were soon joined by five other dancers in a flurry of formation changes. The diverse group mimed fixing their hair and clothes in imaginary mirrors, getting ready for a night out.
After a series of looping duets featuring both mixed and same-sex couples on the theme of Valentine’s Day, it was time to whip out the dating apps. Performer Edward Rice took the mic and instructed the others on how to build the ideal dating profile. Assets, hobbies, laughter, sexiness, friends –- he comedically concocted the universal recipe for desirability. Be yourself, just like all the others! The dancers followed his instructions, creating and repeating a sequence of poses until they were ready to go live with their profiles. One after the other, they sat on each other’s laps until they formed a line leading up to the swiper. Assets, hobbies, laughter –– swipe left. Assets –– swipe left. Until the final candidate got a right swipe. They Netflixed, chilled and never talked again.
Another highlight riffed on Craiglist’s infamous Missed Connections feature. The dancers interpreted desperate monologues over the backdrop of heartbeats with playful, pedestrian movement, over the back lifts, rolling, sliding, and even cuddling in a long spoon train. They used every inch of the compact dancing space, and the closeness of the audience required them to exhibit impeccable spatial awareness. One pair whose eyes met on an NYC subway found their way to one another, soon forming a couple that became central to the rest of the piece.
True Love Forever abounded with compelling interactive moments: “Stand up if you’re here with a partner. Stay standing if you’ve been together for one/five/10/20 years.” After an emotional game of Never Have I Ever, the host asked, “Have you ever been ghosted before? Have you ever ghosted someone?” Everyone who’d been ghosted stood on one side of the room, and everyone who’d ghosted someone stood at the other. The ghosters were then given plastic flowers to apologize to the ghostees with.
With relationships come breakups, and a show about love would be incomplete without a healthy dose of heartbreak. Melancholic piano music accompanied a group story building exercise, the fruits of which paved the way for the main couple’s breakup. The band’s set served as a powerful throughline, driving the emotional arc of the show. Gorgeously sung lyrics (“I don’t wanna love no more”) by composer and frontman Coyle Girelli and slow motion solos standing on chairs under cold blue light brought loneliness and grief into the room.
But like the looping duets from earlier in the piece, from the heights of love to the depths of despair, there’s a seemingly inevitable upswing in the cycle of romantic relationships. The performers tentatively took the hands of individual audience members and invited them into the dancing/dating space, swaying with them and swirling around them in rotation. It felt like a lesson in wordless consent and a meditation on the art of being touched by strangers, beautiful in that all too human way, the warmth all the warmer because of its proximity to pain.
Gradually, the performers brought additional audience members in to dance with one another and soon everyone was up and slow dancing, whether with a cast member, a random audience member, or the person they came with. This final dance, both communal and intimate, carried all the meaning that came before and as we softly bumped against one another, I was delighted rather than annoyed by the presence of other bodies sharing my space. The band ended their set and thanked the audience, which effortlessly met the unique challenge of finding a clear, organic ending to an immersive piece.
In addition to offering a moving and accessible portrait of love in the 21st century, True Love Forever lifted up diverse body types and put forward a non-hierarchical plot where each performer was amply featured as both a dancer and actor. The show also balanced the individuality and “universality” of the human experience of love.
Still, the choreography was repetitive, sweet but rarely inventive, and the performers often overemphasized their spoken lines and facial expressions. It is impossible to not compare True Love Forever with Third Rail Projects’ immersive hit Then She Fell. Although the company’s latest work certainly stands on its own, it reads as far less ambitious than Then She Fell. But maybe, in this flashy, cut-throat economy, that isn’t such a bad thing.
By Charly Santagado, with support from Pierre Moulin, of Dance Informa.
