The Impliers’ ambitious experiment blends film and live performance in a novel theatrical format.

The mostly full Bug Theatre is dark, illuminated only by shaky, first-person POV footage cast from the giant screen on stage. They’re walking (more accurately, stumbling) down a dark yet familiar street in The Highlands of Denver and whoever’s view we’re watching from, it seems they’ve had a lot to drink tonight.

Suddenly, The Bug’s unmistakable facade comes into focus and the audience cheers loudly. The stumbler approaches the building, enters the exact same doors that I myself walked through an hour ago, and the screen goes dark. The house lights bring a warm glow to the room, we hear a clang from behind, and Brenda — the messy protagonist we’ve been watching for the past hour, played byJulianna Beckert — barges through the doors, bumbles down the aisle and onto the stage.

This was a concluding scene in Mixed Messages, a show that Impliers co-founder Dan Hartman said is about “things going wrong when you’re not necessarily meaning for them to.” But to call Mixed Messages a “show” is perhaps a bit misleading. There are live theatrical scenes, but they are all anchored to a bevy of pre-produced music videos and comedy skits that do more to guide the narrative and build the world than the onstage moments do.

Photo courtesy The Impliers

Implier’s TV

That world in which Mixed Messages takes place is centered around “The Impliers TV,” a bizarre faux streaming service where we, the viewers, are channel-surfing. With each flip to a new station, the small blue box at the top of the screen informs us of the channel and what show we’re watching.

There’s a weird cooking show where the producer forgot to buy the groceries, so they’re going through the motions — but all they’re preparing is air. There’s a cracked-out psychologist droning on about relationships and attachment theory. There’s an animal documentary about monkeys, bears and birds, but the experts don’t seem to know what they’re talking about.

A serene Bob Ross ripoff violently jabs his canvas with a paintbrush. All this is observed on the large screen on stage as the unseen channel-surfer continues to flip, each of these kooky characters portrayed by one or both of The Impliers — Dan and his creative partner of 28 years, Charles Ingram.

Occasionally, there is a break in the channel flipping with a seamless transition to the stage. A phone ringing on the screen becomes the phone sitting on stage, and an actor appears from behind the screen to answer it. The channel-surfer has decided to linger on this station and see what it’s all about.

In one early vignette we watch a silent Brenda foolishly scope out a hot new co-worker as we listen to her inner monologue about how to approach him. When the scene is over and a new video launches on the screen, Brenda appears on screen to join new characters (again played by Dan and Charles) in a sitcom-style sketch. Brenda is wearing the same clothes and she’s referencing the guy we just watched her obsess over on stage. This continuity between mediums — this seamless blending between screen and stage — was a fun, novel effect that I wish they’d leaned on more.

High production values

Throughout the show, I was continually impressed by the movie-quality production and editing of the skits and music videos. One music video reminded me of OK GO-style editing, while another was giving Robert Palmer’s “Simply Irresistible” vibes. Professional lighting and audio, high quality cameras and very stylish, intentional directing and editing made the series of mini-films true works of art that The Impliers have clearly spent hundreds, if not thousands, of hours producing.

I enjoyed so many aspects of this show, billed as a comedy, except for the fact that I never once laughed at any of it. This was surprising, because many of the people involved are from the Idiot Theatre group, who I’ve previously seen and found hysterical. But this was Dan and Charles’ project, not Idiot Theatre’s, and The Impliers have their own unique style of awkward humor that consistently fell flat with me.

But I’m also self-aware enough to see that it was clearly a case of “it’s not you, it’s me,” because the rest of the house was rolling with laughter from beginning to end. Despite the humor being horrifyingly dry, I still found plenty to admire in the acting (most notably Beckert’s standout performance as a loveable, hot mess) and the unique TV-based format of the show.