Afterlife Anonymous – A Fun Take on a Familiar Premise

On one hand, you could argue that the “support group for (insert something weird)” has been done to death (pun intended). There are plenty of examples in fiction, ranging from “support group for villains” to “support group for people who lost people when Thanos wiped out half the universe,” and I’m sure at least a dozen other strange or supernatural groups. On the other hand, there’s a reason it keeps getting done. Executed properly, it’s a way to offer a nuanced take on a group or archetype by showing them in moments of vulnerability. Shinbone Theater Company’s Afterlife Anonymous does exactly that, offering guests a roughly 50-minute experience in which they join an eclectic cast in a support group for ghosts who have a unique problem: an addiction to haunting the living.

Though I Am Dead, My Life is Not Over

The experience begins in a strip mall next to Hollywood’s Thymele Arts. There, guests are greeted by The Ferryman (Rob Racke), a cosmic entity temporarily ensconced in a human form and charged with guiding recently-dead souls to the next phase of their existence. In our case, this next phase is a support group intended to help fix those addicted to haunting. If you arrive early, and enjoy a bit of absurdist banter, I strongly recommend chatting with The Ferryman. Racke’s character offers a… unique take on humanity, and was able to stay both entertaining and in character no matter what I threw at him.

Either way, The Ferryman’s main job is to check guests in and give them each a pamphlet detailing how they died and some information related to the support group we have been assigned to. Once all guests are present, we are led “across the nether bridge” into our first meeting with the group.

Though I Have No Flesh, I Am Not Without Autonomy

Things start off with a couple of warm-up exercises designed to help guests get comfortable and learn a bit about the other members of the group, including one-on-one time with one of the actors. But things inevitably go sideways, precipitating a split into small groups where guests are given the opportunity to help one or more of the ensemble deal with the issues that are coming to a head. I won’t spoil the ending, but I will say things end on a satisfying note.

The plot itself is scripted, though Shinbone and the cast do a great job of making the dialogue and action feel organic. Performers’ interactions with guests flow naturally; the cast is well-coached in letting us decide how much or how little we want to get involved. Personally, I think this is a crucial design element that’s easy to overlook, and I appreciate how much attention is given to it in Afterlife.

Though I Have No Breath, I Can Still Speak for Myself

In terms of genre, it feels most like a condensed sitcom. You quickly get a read on what each of the characters are about, though they all evolve, over the course of the show. At first I found Hunter (Alex Weber) the most relatable, but beneath the practiced charm a controlling streak slowly emerges. Childlike Roberto (John Ryan Benavides), meanwhile, is entertainingly creepy, and stoic Penelope (Dana Benedict) slowly comes out of her shell with positive yet somewhat macabre results.

The set design is also on point for the show’s concept. A table with coffee and snacks next to a water cooler along with somewhat mismatched folding chairs are all on-brand for a volunteer-led support group, but a few spooky touches around the edges (e.g., black cobwebs spread over part of the wall) make it clear this is for the dead rather than the living. Lighting and sound design are likewise simple but effective, using just a few props to shift the mood where needed. The costuming is also well-thought-out. Whether it’s slacks and a polo shirt on mild-mannered Milton (Brady Richards), a ‘50s-era skirt and blouse on Hunter’s wife Katie (Ziporah (Zippy) Cordozo), or Penelope’s Victorian goth ensemble, the outfits and makeup tend toward understated, but are effective in communicating visually who each ghost is.

Should You Go?

This one’s an easy yes. Shinbone Theater Company’s Afterlife Anonymous is fun, lighthearted, and good for both immersive theater newbies and veterans alike. The quirky cast will happily interact with you if you want, and make you feel like part of the story. But if you’d rather be a wallflower, you can still enjoy the plot unfolding around you.

Afterlife Anonymous closes on November 1st, but tickets are still available for Halloween and November 1; purchase tickets here. You can also follow them on Facebook or Instagram for more information on upcoming productions.