Organized mayhem is the overriding aesthetic of Burnout Paradise, a celebration of multitasking produced and performed by the Pony Cam theater troupe from Melbourne, Australia. Four performers spend almost the entirety of the show on treadmills on the cramped stage of the Astor Place Theatre while simultaneously executing an additional task — cooking a three-course meal for two audience members who are ushered to a checkered tablecloth-lined table upstage; writing and submitting an arts grant in real time; performing some bit of stage business (from a singing mini-concert with keyboard to a Shakespeare soliloquy); and working through a whiteboard checklist full of leisure and personal activities (shooting a basket, painting their nails, calling a Bingo game).
The four swap treadmills (and assignments) after 12-minute cycles, with a quick break to hydrate and stretch, before picking up a new assignment, often with the assistance of theatergoers who seem all too eager to jump into the fray. They supply items needed for the task at hand (since the actors are stuck to their treadmills) and occasionally going further — shaving hair from William Strom’s head or applying a wax strip to Dominic Weintraub’s chest at my performance.
That audience participation is encouraged by a fifth member of the troupe, Ava Campbell, who serves as a wandering host explaining the rules as well as selling merch and distributing Gatorade to any observer interested in a glass. She also tallies the distance the troupe has walked or run after each session, noting that the troupe will offer to refund everyone’s tickets should they fail to top their previous record.
Fans of Taskmaster or escape rooms may have a higher tolerance for a show that seems to be fueled by pushing everyone to their physical and mental limits. There is a lot going on here, all the time. Video projections (by Pony Cam and Jim Findlay) allow us to focus on individual moments — the online form for that grant proposal as text boxes are being filled, a live feed of pasta in a boiling pot of water that’s threatening to overflow, old video of Claire Bird’s girlhood dance recital routine that she’s simultaneously attempting to duplicate while moving on a treadmill (backwards, so she’s facing the audience).
I suspect there may be language inserted into that grant proposal about how this show taps into millennial and Gen Z anxieties about work-life balance, the insistent urge to do multiple things at once, and the pressure to succeed despite all the distractions hurled our way. We’re even encouraged to keep our phones on, the better to take photos and videos that we can email to the cast to add to the grant proposal.
Near the end, while we waited for their total distance to be tallied, the tuckered troupe launched into a re-creation of OK Go’s routine from the music video “Here We Go Again.” It was impressively perfect. Burnout Paradise is a real feat of endurance, for the dogged cast as well as the audience. Over time, I felt mostly exhausted by the sensory overload. And deeply sympathetic for performers willing to subject themselves to the requirements of this show eight times a week. Your mileage may vary. ★★★☆☆
BURNOUT PARADISE
Astor Place Theatre, Off Broadway
Running time: 75 minutes (with no intermission)
Tickets on sale through June 28 for $39 to $129
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