Slapdash Galaxy

Say the words "shadow puppetry’"and most people imagine something sedate, delicate and traditional. In this recklessly inventive, determinedly ramshackle sci-fi romp, Canadian puppeteer Jeff Achtem seems intent on changing our minds. All sprouting sideburns, mad grin and dungarees, Achtem uses all manner of household junk—drinks bottles, cutlery, party balloons, bubble machines and the like—to tell a simple yet cinematic tale of “two brothers, lost in space.” With his method fully visible to the audience throughout most of the show, Achtem projects his arsenal of tools onto three white screens, where they can become rockets and monsters, stars and galaxies.

The makeshift styling belies an impressive level of technical skill and a cine-literate approach, as Achtem approximates all manner of camera and editing tricks with his simple equipment. The audience gets involved too: one punter’s head becomes “the shaggy planet,” his nose and mouth a “mountain range,” the gap between another pair’s shoulders is a ravine where the spaceship crash-lands. In one ingenious section, a brown cardboard puppet is turned one way to look like the cackling head of a “space pirate,” then perpendicular to become the same pirate in wide shot, riding on a rocket.

Adding to the funny, frenetic appeal of the show in this first performance were a good number of technical hitches, deliberate and not-so deliberate, which Achtem tackles with infectious good humour. The plot is a little too loosely woven at times, but the simply drawn characters have a real emotional pull and the peril of the final showdown will be keenly felt by adults and children alike.