Theatre Exile’s Philly GRIT presents Bastion Carboni’s A Vacation

The show opens with a few spot-on Tik Tok-style videos where we meet Colton in his virtual element, a man with deeply assured opinions both on the street and in the podcast studio. Then, in the first of six monologue scenes, he asks us whether we ever stared at something a little too long. Did it hurt? Did we like it? Did we know better? Did we regret it? If we’re offended by his travel content, will our curiosity override our convictions?

Off grid in Purgatory

Colton and his video editor arrive at their hotel in Purgatory after an exhausting journey of three flights and a crowded ferry. At the dock, they’re swarmed by anxious souls desperate for news of the living world: “Engagement, baby!”

Colton is dismayed to find out Purgatory is off the grid. There’s no Internet, and he’s not allowed to interview any residents on camera. The local lingo takes some effort: no references to life, living, or death are allowed; that would be “existist”.

In the following three monologues, Colton describes increasingly disturbing outings at top Purgatory landmarks, a cutting satire of globetrotting influencers’ cultural exploitation. Cracks begin to show between him and his unseen video editor, leading to a crisis that may have immortal consequences for Colton.

Creativity and depth

Carboni showcases sharp writing in the monologues, including the sensory experience in Purgatory, its history, and its customs. This verbal entry into an uncanny world is worth the price of admission on its own.

The bare-bones production (the performer carries all of his props and costume changes onstage in a backpack) is aided by large, evocative projections from video designer Nick Morgan and subtle, atmospheric sound by Natali Merril. Carboni is an actor with remarkable range and depth. (I was impressed by his turn as Fidel, an immigrant healthcare worker struggling with a dislocated grief, in Colman Domingo’s Dot at South Camden Theatre Company last year.) He’s not afraid to make Colton funny, vulnerable, sanctimonious, and sinister by turns, while showing the emotional and physical toll of the content creator’s brash public persona.

The void and virtue-signaling

Some aspects of the story and themes are a bit muddy. Carboni skewers dangerously transgressive clout-chasers like Logan Paul, who skirt rules and decency to knowingly take millions of eyeballs to places nobody has any businesses being. But in this telling, Purgatory is apparently a popular travel destination, with a hotel, reluctant tour guides who “have to follow around jackass tourists all the time,” slogans, and T-shirts for sale. Perhaps Colton’s journey is not as unusual as he implies?

On opening night, an audience member (perhaps familiar with the participatory tone of past Philly GRIT shows) verbally answered a question Colton posed. Carboni swiftly but good-naturedly hushed them. This is not an interactive show, and his connection with the audience is somewhat hampered by the conceit that he speaks almost all of his lines into an imagined stationary camera.

Is social media a hyper-responsive medium? Or are its users actually shouting into a void? This show’s style implies the latter. But it might delve deeper if Colton could in some way invite live responses from the audience, making us (like his followers) complicit in his journey and its outcome, instead of passive observers.

The show currently runs a little less than an hour, including significant breaks where music plays as Carboni grooves his way through costume changes, halting the narrative momentum. These interstitial moments could incorporate video projections that give us more glimpses of Colton’s exploits or online persona. Overall, there might be some room to breathe deeper on the questions Carboni poses at the end of the show, like every virtue-signaling commenter’s favorite gauntlet: what matters more, intention or impact?

A worthwhile stretch

A Vacation has a somewhat darker tone than last year’s Philly GRIT entries, which is a worthwhile stretch for the series. This year’s program also features Justin Jain’s The Dangers of Tobacco, which he premiered in the 2023 Fringe (here’s the BSR review of that production), and a special one-night performance of Camp Cookie, a speakeasy cabaret from Cookie Diorio (March 26 at 7pm). If you’re still in limbo about buying tix, get them now.

Editor’s note: Our team is proud to announce that our Readers Decide campaign has met its initial $10,000 goal, securing our spring coverage. But if you haven’t given yet, there is still time to join the campaign (running through March 31), and secure our coverage for summer.