The Ren’s latest immersive entertainment is throwback cabaret ’24

Right now, Renaissance Theatre Co. co-founder Donald Rupe and choreographer Jakob Karr are in New York City, as their shows From Here and Ain't Done Bad are both currently joining the long list of acclaimed productions which originated at the Orlando Fringe Festival, and have gone on to successful off-Broadway productions. (Somebody ought to inform our sex-obsessed Governor.)

Fortunately, that doesn't mean the pair has forsaken Orlando, rendering us bereft of the Ren's signature brand of immersive entertainment during this sultry summer. To the contrary, the duo has left behind a thrilling theatrical time portal that's transporting patrons across a century, to an era of Prohibition and protests. Pull out your best beaded flapper gown or snap on your snazziest suspenders, because you're going to want to look the part when you travel to the world of '24 .

Merging the vintage nightclub milieu of their 2023 discotheque-themed production 54 and the Sleep No More -influenced eeriness of their annual Nosferatu , '24 builds on the Ren's established mix of intimate interactions and high-intensity spectacle. This time, the venue has been revamped into a den of Art Deco decadence, where the audience is surrounded within a multilayered tale — co-created by director Rupe and playwright/performer Adonis Perez-Escobar — that infuses elements of Aldous Huxley's Brave New World and Anthony Burgess' A Clockwork Orange into the hedonistic aesthetic associated with Roaring '20s.

Those who attend '24 are urged by its creators not to reveal any of the show's many secrets, but suffice it to say that if you are expecting a simple Chicago -style throwback cabaret, prepare yourself for a much more ambitiously genre-bending adventure.

Arriving audience members first enter the building broken into small groups, and are initially guided through a sequence of gritty urban environments (designed by Kurt Boetcher, Cody Lang and Josh Moran; lighting by Ben Lowe) by some scene-setting characters. You ultimately enter an apparent laundromat, where a secret password is required to progress into Paradise; I fumbled my Latin pronunciation, and was left behind for a virtual one-on-one encounter with the show's mysterious antagonist before being allowed to continue further.

After that introductory ordeal, hopeful acolytes at last enter an opulent performance hall, which has been redecorated with disturbingly sensual murals and hammered tin textures that teem with all-seeing-eyeball iconography. More performers circulate the space, making expository small talk with the guests and each other, as the "Mother's Milk" cocktail bar shakes up libations.

I wouldn't want to reveal exactly what occurs during the central 70-ish minutes of mainstage entertainment, but I can hint that you may catch a cultish Suspiria -meets- Midsommar vibe from the aggressively enthusiastic emcee (Lorena Cohea) and her revved-up revelers (featuring Gregg Baker Jr., Abby Cash, Bryan De Souza, Rachel Ihasz, David Lowe, Reed Rockefeller and a half-dozen others), who are all ringing in the imminent new year with a riotous ritual that's equal parts ebullient and ominous.

Whether or not you appreciate the world-building, you're certain to be swept up in the celebratory spirit, thanks largely to the original score of boisterous jazz-inflected songs by vocal director Will Scott with musicians Bryce Hayes and Matt Lynx, whose four-person live ensemble blasts the audience with the brassy energy of an entire Sam Rivers-style big band. In fact, this killer quartet hits so hard that lyrics (sung by Shannon Guinn, Iris M. Johnson and Anastasia Remoundos) are often overwhelmed.

However, my acoustical complaints were easily outweighed by the spectacular sight of nearly a dozen dynamic dancers (including Adonus Mabry, Oliver Morris and aerialist Jules Botticello) shimmying in J. Marie Bailey's shimmering costumes to Karr's athletic choreography.

To be honest, '24 's intricate backstory could use a little room to breathe, and I wish there were more time to explore the characters' intriguing interconnections beyond brief, tantalizing tidbits. I ultimately exited somewhat uncertain about the artistic intention behind some of '24 's narrative twists and turns; perhaps some of my questions might have been resolved if I'd stuck around for the optional Chateau Renaissance drag after-party. Even so, I have to applaud the Ren for once again creating an another undeniably unique experience that intoxicates with its atmosphere as much as its cocktails.

I heartily recommend ordering the New Old Fashioned with whiskey and ginger liqueur and settling into a comfy armchair, because — as a slogan seen in the show says — the world outside is burning, but all I hear is jazz.