Travis A. Knight and Michael Shannon Photo by Fadeout Media and Jesus Santos

A Red Orchid Theatre's ambitious production, directed by the playwright at the Chopin Theatre, will blow you away. The sheer size of the production answers the question of why it couldn't be done at the company's Wells St. home. Grant Sabin's bunker-like design overwhelms the stage–and us–with multiple levels, a huge central hamster wheel (actually a home for an often-used treadmill), an upstage hatch-like door that leads to whatever is out there, a decently well-stocked bar, a wall on which to project what is on a computer screen, and even a piano. Combined with Mike Durst's futuristic lighting and Jeffrey Levin's intense wall of sound, this is a show that refuses to be ignored and demands your full attention.

Two men–Green (Michael Shannon) and Rabbit (Travis A. Knight)–appear to have resided together in this "turret" since Rabbit was just a baby. (A third, Lawrence Grimm's Birdy, briefly but memorably joins them in Act Two.) The two are soldiers in a war against an unseen enemy that is constantly trying to breach the turret's defenses, trying to keep themselves more or less sane with conversation, old music–shades of Fallout–and weirdly outdated technology that makes you wonder just how long they've actually been doing this.

The structure of the play is recursive; things keep happening and then happening again, changing incrementally with each repetition. (This is what creates the puzzle box: nothing will make sense in an absolute way until we've seen it all, but the tension–and the strange and awkward relationship between the men–is a constant throughout.) The repetitions and echoes allow us to learn more about the characters, especially within a motif that has Green quizzing Rabbit as he runs the treadmill wearing wired headgear that allows the inquisitor (and us) to see his responses as he thinks them. As with everything else here, these quizzes follow the same patterns, though the answers are not necessarily the same; it is in their alterations that we start to see more about who these men are to each other.

Holloway, both as writer and director, is not afraid of dialogue-free scenes. I didn't actually time it, but I think there was no dialogue at all for at least the first five minutes of the play as we watch the kind of rote, repeated actions that men might engage in just to fill time. The music, too, is repetitive; they play it to stay sane and human, but there is ample evidence that one or both of them have already lost their minds–or even their humanity.

The antiquated technology–Paul Deziel's computer screen projections have an '80s IBM feel, though there are occasionally filmed moments from the past that most likely are solely within a character's mind–continues the motif of sameness. Nothing ever changes here. Even the whiskey on the bar seems never to empty. This place might as well be hell. (Maybe it is.)

The performances are all top notch. Shannon's Green, the older and more experienced soldier–and father-figure to the younger Rabbit (whose pejorative rank is "pollywog")–is totally focused on his "mission." Shannon is a smart enough actor, though, to allow honest emotions to filter through Green's "commander" facade, humanizing the character enough that even the looped interactions of reality can't keep us from empathizing with him. Knight's Rabbit, always desperate to be trusted to go outside and "scout" even with the dangers posed by their enemies and a poisoned atmosphere, is even more tightly wound than Green. There is often the indication that he may lose control, and hints that this has happened to him before. With Birdy, Grimm has a character who has already admittedly lost his mind. (Hiding while watching your wife get literally torn apart will do that.) Unlike the others, he does not need to hold back and can really put it all out there. Birdy shows us where Green and Rabbit are likely to be heading, and it isn't pretty.

This is not an easy play any more than the situation in which its characters find themselves is a normal one. Through Holloway's clever script and his cast's powerful performances, though, there is a lot to examine in this Turret.

Turret, a presentation by A Red Orchid Theatre, runs through June 6, 2024, at 1543 W. Division, Chicago IL. For tickets and information, please visit aredorchidtheatre.org.