There’s work to be done before National Theatre of Scotland’s The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart gets underway at Factory Luxe. As patrons find seats and fill out the tables scattered about the unusual theatrical venue, they begin working as impromptu set designers by tearing up napkins to create snow for the show’s opening scene. The fun begins when the room full of people starts gleefully tossing the torn white scraps into air, transforming the set-less space into a world of snow flurries. While simple enough, this atypical act of audience engagement proves emblematic of Prudencia Hart’s pure theatrical joy and liveliness.

The snowy scene finds the titular protagonist Prudencia Hart (Jessica Hardwick) braving a blizzard in her car (which consists of Hardwick perched atop a cast member’s shoulders while others act out the windshield wiper and hold a flashlight for the headlights) to drive to the town of Kelso in the Scottish Borders for a folk studies convention. A stern and buttoned-up young woman, Prudencia lives for folk. It’s the love of her life, and collecting old Scottish folk ballads is her sole passion. Playwright David Greig tells her story in verse via rhyming couplets (with the five-person cast playing live folk music to score certain scenes). While the couplet construction could’ve easily been a disaster, it actually works quite brilliantly and the writing remains sharp and hilarious throughout the show.

Shortly after arriving in Kelso, Prudencia runs into the bane of her existence, her folklorist nemesis Colin (Paul McCole). He’s a brash, party-loving, motorcycle driving nuisance that irks Prudencia to her core. In stark contrast to her traditionalist beliefs, Colin takes a very trying-to-be-hip modern intellectual stance with regards to their field of study. He looks for the folk in things like soccer chants and YouTube videos. Colin’s success with this line of thinking only further enrages Prudencia.

As the cast members greet audience members as if they are familiar peers, the conference gets underway and proceeds to mock the self-importance of these sorts of academic gatherings. One extreme theory of folk after another is tossed out, but Prudence’s defense of the importance of traditional folk seems to put her comrades to sleep.  In a fit of desperate exasperation, she finally yelps, “Why don’t any of you believe in beauty anymore?”

When a blizzard makes traveling home impossible, Prudencia and Colin retreat to the shelter of a local pub. What at first appears to be a night of local folk music (delighting Prudencia), soon gives way to a Katy Perry-infused karaoke night which quickly spirals into pure drunken debauchery (delighting Colin). The occasion for the celebration is the Winter Solstice, a night when local folklore suggests that the Devil lurks about and snatches up those foolish enough to wander the streets. But the pub’s wild atmosphere terrorizes Prudencia, so out into the dark streets she heads in search of a bed and breakfast to spend the night.

It’s a treat to see what National Theatre of Scotland manages to create in the unconventional Factory Luxe. The five actors must shape a believable yet hyper-fantastical world, and they pull it off through a variety of delightful little tricks. It’s hard not to get swept up in it all their infectious playfulness. Throughout the show, they mess with each other in unexpected ways, and seeing a wry smile of acknowledgement cross one of their faces while trying to stay in the scene instantly elicits laughter.

The performances by the leads endear them to the audience in order to give Prudencia Hart’s story stakes worth caring about. Hardwick plays the prim Prudencia in a way that makes her folk purity seem human and noble instead of intellectually aloof, while also giving the character room to grow and let her hair down (figuratively and literally) as the show progresses. McCole’s portal of Colin conveys the well-meaning side of his jackass behavior, imbuing his cocky buffoonery with an equal dose of likability. While the other three cast members play a variety of roles, David McKay stands out with his ability to fluctuate between a sort of madcap Marin Short goofiness and an unsettling, menacing demeanor.

After a reshuffling of tables to change the theatrical space during intermission, act II opens with a far more serious tone. The soul of the show begins to fade as things get bogged down in the drama of Prudencia's undoing, but things thankfully pick up and return to the mirthful spirit of act I (complete with audience chants, a Game of Thrones reference, and humorously torturous trails for Colin) before all is said and done.

The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart constantly buzzes with an energy that makes the audience feel like they’re part of something special. Many plays hit the right comedic notes, but few achieve a real sense of immersive fun. Prudencia Hart is not world-changing theater—it’s a stumbled across wild party with a bunch of strangers that turns out to be a blast. You just can’t get it out of your head.

The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart
Thru Mar 20, Factory Luxe, $45