People actually still play role-playing games, and with gusto. They do. Like—grown-ass adults, even. We're talking 20-sided die, people speaking in faux Olde English, folks gathered around a kitchen table until the wee hours, maps of made-up countries drawn in pencil.
I had previously been under the impression that those kinds of nerds all migrated over to Reddit, but I am grossly mistaken. And I do not use the word "nerd" in the pejorative; I have a karma-heavy Reddit account and I played RPGs as an adolescent (and, yes, a few times as an adult). I'm on the inside, in a way. Or at least perched on the edge.
For those who don't know RPGs, the most famous of which is Dungeons & Dragons, this is the deal: A small group of people get together and pick various fantasy characters with various skills and various quirks. They're led by a game master (GM), who has figured out some general storyline or quest for them to pursue, but it's virtually guaranteed that they will stray from any strict narrative. They interact with each other, meet enemies, meet friends, end up in strange places and so on—and when there is some kind of conflict, they roll a die of many sides to see how aggressive the harm inflicted upon them was. This is all done around a table and sitting in chairs, with words. There are no plastic medieval helmets or foam swords involved, unless it's specifically a live-action RPG. (That's on a whooooole other level.)
Sounds kind of stupid until you either do it or watch other people do it. When really imaginative, funny people get together and start making up absurd storylines with characters like ogres, oozes and socially awkward humanoids, shit gets entertaining fast. Also, playing these games in adulthood, you get to add beer into the mix. Even the kind practiced by teens at a card table, though, has a performative aspect that's wasted when relegated to mom's basement.
Turns out that listening to other people play RPGs is having a bit of a moment. The most popular is probably Critical Role, a podcast in which professional voice actors play for three to five hours at a time, which has been running weekly since March 2015—and as of this writing, the latest campaign was six days old and had 312,000 views on YouTube. This is more than some nerds' side hustle. This is a bona fide thing on the internet.
Turns out Santa Fe has one of these live games too. In Plus One To Mischief, a new-ish project that's part live podcast, part staged reading and part improv show, local actor Kevin Atkinson has brought out of the woodwork a few RPG players who perhaps don't call themselves actors, but also don't mind being onstage.
I attended the opening campaign on June 19 at the Bridge at Santa Fe Brewing Company (Plus One's home for this round of events), and the players had a quiet buzz—they weren't bouncing off the walls, but I could tell they had some strange stuff up their sleeves. They were Aileen Mell (Wilma, a witch, or maybe not a witch?), Tim Brown (Squeak, a space squirrel) and David Tran (Panini, a slovenly human with a litterbox but no cat). Atkinson, acting as GM, commanded them with the kind of quick wit that could only belong to a lifelong nerd with a degree in performing arts (I acted with him in 2017's Unnecessary Farce, and I'd call him a low-key comeback king. He also hosts the Geeks Who Drink pub quiz at Boxcar on Tuesdays, if you're curious).
We were introduced to the characters in a relatively leisurely fashion, but considering Critical Role's campaigns can run to five hours a pop, that the "first act" of Plus One clocked in at about 90 minutes was actually quite conservative. They didn't get too far by the time we took a break—they had all left their homes and ended up in different rooms of an architecturally impossible building, talking through walls to one another.
All four involved are funny and energetic, but my personal favorite was Mell, whose off-the-cuff humor transcended the easy reach, was surprising and straight-faced while making me laugh heartily out loud. (Trying to get a priest to leave her home, she said she was baking a pie. The priest noted that her oven was cold. "Oh! No wonder it's taking so long!" she cried somewhat absently.)
It drags at times, but few theatrical productions are immune to that—and considering this is mostly improvised and isn't presented by professional actors, I consider it impressive that it is often even more lively than stuff you pay to see in a traditional theater. Plus, in this kind of venue, if it drags a bit, you can go get another beer or hit the food truck—not a luxury afforded at many other performing arts spaces.
I had to skip out at intermission, though, so I was sure to touch base with Atkinson before I left. "I have friends in town, so I need to get back to them. They actually wanted to come, but when I went to tell them I was leaving, they were asleep."
"Oh, good!" Atkinson says, without missing a beat. "I'm just as happy when people sleep through my stuff as when they actually come to it. That's great."
Writing it in words, it sounds pretty biting—but Atkinson's delivery made it hilarious and actually kind, somehow. This kind of wit can make almost anything funny. Throw a space squirrel in the mix and you've got an effortless evening for nerds and not-nerds alike.
Plus One To Mischief
The Bridge at Santa Fe Brewing Company,
35 Fire Place,
424-3333
