“In a community that stresses macho male sexual stories as a highlight of all conversation…”

So begins “Aberdeen,” a monologue from Kurt Cobain’s “Montage of Heck”. It’s an origin story, of sorts, a look at some of the teenage experiences of drugs, sex, and trauma that so often give way to great rock’n’roll—or simply to growing up at all. It’s also part of one of the multimedia components of M90sN (“My 90s Nightmare”), a four-day remote experience from Los Angeles-based immersive theatre company BL4KM4SS. Written and performed by Reyna Meree Velarde with art and photography direction by Paul Stephen Edwards and co-production by Josh Simon, M90sN, too, is a response to a world that stresses macho male sexual stories as a highlight of all conversations. As the tag-line reads, this is an “Experience [of] the trauma, violence, and psychological damage inflicted upon one woman.” Light on necessary time commitment but intense on subject matter, M90sN uses Zoom and Discord to recount parts of Velarde’s life while utilizing discussion questions and creative activities to interact with the audience to whatever degree they’re willing to invest.

While M90sN is full of true stories by and of its actress, it is advertised as an auto-ethnography, not an autobiography. This is, indeed, the most apt description: auto-ethnography is a kind of writing and research that uses someone’s personal experiences to survey and reflect on society as a whole, something M90sN does in both direct and suggested ways. At its core, the show seems to ask participants to reckon with a society that never centers women’s experiences of trauma through the centering of Velarde’s. In sharing hers, she prompts participants to reflect on their own lives and emotions, to engage with others about theirs. Participants are guided by Velarde with assistance from Josh Simon to open up to themselves and each other in a way that, at least for my audience, naturally led to conversations about the societal factors in our lives at the times our stories took place and at the current moment.

The show’s centerpieces are the nightly pairings of music from the 90s with monologues and archival photos and videos shared over Zoom. These performances, particularly the show’s finale, are visceral and passionate showcases of Velarde’s immense skill as an actress to convey emotion to an audience without ever seeming contrived. The video and sound design by Paul Stephen Edwards in the Zoom portions is expertly done, never upstaging the live performance in either volume or spectacle. And although Velarde’s live part of these half-hour performances is pre-scripted, they are just as drenched in authenticity as the “nightmares,” brief retellings of stories from Velarde’s life which are told to available participants over a Discord voice channel candidly as they occur to her.

Like any immersive event, much of how a show happens in real-time depends on the audience. Whether it was my fellow participants themselves and the production team following their lead, or by design, the pace of this show was mostly slow and relaxed, with a clear schedule given for the major performances, plenty of time to follow up on prompts, and discussions that I always felt free to jump into at any time. However, this set an expectation of simply catching up when possible, which found me missing the “nightmares” if I wasn’t looking at my phone or computer when they were about to happen. This was something I knew was possible after the first one and took away nothing from understanding the show, and the fact that they happened as apparent whims was an interesting device. Participants who are more of the completionist variety, however, may find themselves frustrated. Nevertheless, I personally found the ability to participate in a four-day show and my own life at the same time refreshing.

M90sN is a thoughtful, intelligent, and important piece of art with Reyna Velarde’s passionate and truthful performance at the helm. The second run of the show (“Side B”) will take place January 20th-23rd, and tickets can be applied for by emailing [email protected].

About the Author

Allison Darcy is a disabled femme who writes about monsters and likes to befriend them. She can be found at allisondarcywrites.com or on social media @thegrandfinalli.