Quiet scene resonates best in Insurgo Theater’s robot tale

Much of the last, oh, third of Insurgo Theater's "R.U.R. (Rossum's Universal Robots)" is as visually and emotionally exciting as theater can get. If only the rest of director Brendon McClenahan's production would measure up.

Karel Capek's 1920 play is credited with having coined the term "robot." It's about a group of factory members who've hit on a formula to genetically engineer near-mortals. This version of humanity eliminates all "unnecessary" functions: no wanting to go for walks, no desire to listen to music. These serfs live to work.

All is well until the machines mutate into a state of deeper consciousness. It isn't long before the future of the human race is at stake.

Capek's story feels a little creaky today, but it's still an amusing morality tale.

McClenahan has some trouble establishing tone. His show is half '50s B-movie melodrama, half serious, existential treatise. The theme of robots vs. humanity is a little too easy, and McClenahan hits us over the head with it (even the house staff act robotic when they greet the audience). Much of the fun in the script's early moments is in a visiting woman's inability to separate the fake from the real people. But McClenahan makes the differences in the two overly obvious, and a layer of humor is lost.

Once the action starts to reach a head, the director demonstrates sensitivity to both dialogue and visuals. The final moments give the script the epic feeling it needs to suggest masses of monsters on the warpath.

Choreographer Jenna Wurtzberger's ominous movement and Natascha Negro and McClenahan's fetish-shop costumes draw unmistakable parallels between the robots and the growing terror of Nazism -- which is perfectly in line with what Capek intended.

Curiously, though, the best scene is a quiet one (spoiler coming), when two robots realize their deep feelings for one another. Their evolution into the world of selfless love gives hope to what heretofore was a doomed universe.

The actors -- Amanda Kraft (in a surprisingly heartfelt performance) and Geo Nikols -- effortlessly suggest a life-affirming bond. McClenahan lets the scene just happen. He doesn't push. I'd like to see McClenahan "not push" more.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at DelValle@aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas NV 89125.