Curtains rise, the silhouettes of strangers blur, and a wooden marionette takes its first step—pulled by invisible strings of bass. *Puppet Theatre* invites you into Claptone’s gilded mask: a world where every beat is a spotlight and each synth-stab tugs at hidden emotions you thought were safely out of reach.

Claptone’s haunting opener sets the stage, then Addal, Mike Dunn, and Detroit Swindle spin threads of funk, disco, and soul around the story’s bones. Between sax-laced interludes, gospel shouts, and dusty house grooves, the cast widens: David Penn’s hands clap you back to life, Makito and Re-Tide strut across the floorboards, and Boogie Rapture blossoms center-stage with velvet vocal flourishes. The plot twists—strings tighten—and suddenly you’re the marionette, moving where the hi-hats decree.

When the final chord fades, the theater lights dim but the mask lingers in your reflection: proof that rhythm can rewrite the script of even an ordinary evening. Hold that afterglow; let it remind you that the best stories are danced, not told.

Puppet Theatre

andrii kovb