Immersive theater makes a splash with ‘Broken Bone Bathtub’
Houston home is the site for unique experience involving a woman, a tub and a conversation
Immersive theater — a term popularized by the show “Sleep No More” but which includes a much broader array of artistic choices — arrives at a time when consumers are rejecting traditional consumerism in favor of unique experiences. As we face a proliferation of choices in entertainment, it’s easy to say no to most TV shows, movies or plays. We know so much is out there, so why risk our time with anything but a guaranteed hit? Meanwhile, experiences like ax-throwing, top golf, escape rooms and events designed around “Instagram moments” have grown. Neither Netflix nor Amazon, after all, can sell you an adventure.
Which is to say that “Broken Bone Bathtub,” a traveling onewoman immersive piece that’s playing at an undisclosed Houston home through July 7, is part of what could be the next big thing in the theater world — experiential performance. It’s an answer to the problem of digital proliferation. “Broken Bone Bathtub” offers ticket buyers what “The Avengers” doesn’t — a formalized, unique setting to socialize outside your comfort zone.
“Broken Bone Bathtub” takes place in a location that’s not revealed to you until after you purchase a ticket, on the day of the show. It’s in a two-story home inside the Loop, where Jeromy Barber greets and acclimates a group of no more than 13 people, which is the maximum number who can fit in a bathroom.
Barber is the owner of Dinolion, a media-production company that, on top of shooting film for large events, has put on two immersive theater projects in the past two years — the gothic musical mystery “Red House” and the cultish sci-fi drama “Lionshare.” Both were major projects, with budgets and casts large enough to each garner the comparison of a mini-“Sleep No More.” Like “Sleep No More,” the shows accommodated somewhat large crowds and transformed an entire building into a museum of interactive encounters — letting the audience members wander as they pleased, piecing together the story themselves.
But “Broken Bone Bathtub” is entirely the creation of Siobhan O’Loughlin, a New York-based actor who drives across the country and performs in various bathrooms in the U.S. Barber, acting as local producer, hosts O’Loughlin in his actual home, in his actual bathroom. He greets the small group in the living room, outlines a few rules, then leads us upstairs.
Once we’re crammed in his bathroom, we find O’Loughlin in the tub, covered only by bubbles. She begins talking to us about showering platonically, such as at a gym. She asks someone in the group if they’ve ever done it. She talks to us about injury and public embarrassment. She asks us direct questions such as, “When was the last time you cried? Was it in public or in private? Was it by yourself or with someone?”
I had to answer those precise questions, in front of the other people there. I am absolutely the kind of person who would find that situation unbearable — so why did I, in fact, feel mostly at ease?
Part of O’Loughlin’s talent was in making a group of strangers feel relaxed when sitting in close quarters with 13 strangers, one of
them a woman in a bubble bath. O’Loughlin was never invasive, fearful, performative or sexualized. Like a charismatic grouptherapy leader, she made the crowd feel a real sense of connection, made possible only by an embodiment of trust and reciprocity.
O’Loughlin’s show is based on a true story about a biking accident she once had, which sent her to the hospital. Her left arm was broken and had to be put in a cast. While she was in her cast, she asked close friends if she could bathe in their bathrooms, partly for practical reasons and partly because, she tells us, she was “afraid of being alone.” The story helps explain the setup for the show but also gives O’Loughlin a chance to ask the audience members about their own experiences with pain, hospitalization and so on. “Broken Bone Bathtub” doesn’t just “feel” like an intimate conversation among strangers about deep subjects. It is one.
The bathtub also serves as an excellent metaphor for O’Loughlin’s vulnerability and openness, as well as her open invitation for audiences to participate in an intimate conversation about her and their own traumas. Watching someone you don’t know bathe is a break of the social contract. So does hearing about the last time someone cried or felt jealous.
The physical partial nudity of the bathroom setting thus mirrors the emotional nudity of the talking.
Because, though “Broken Bone Bathtub” has some elements of traditional storytelling, it’s far more than a one-woman show. O’Loughlin gives strangers a moment of unvarnished humanity in which feelings and memories that haven’t been excavated are brought to the surface.
Intimacy — particularly the thrill of participating in one-onone interactions — has long been the underlying draw for immersive theater. As such, “Broken Bone Bathtub” is an achievement in breaking down the emotional and social walls we put around ourselves in daily life. The show must be experienced to be fully understood. Go now.