Blue Man Group is different, but has so many imitators it's almost easy to believe it's just one in a bunch. It isn't. Blue Man Group is new, but it's been around quite a while. The Blue Men appear inscrutable, inaccessible and aloof, but their show embodies the most intense form of audience interaction I've ever seen, sorry, been part of. This complex array of paradoxical feedback loops surrounds the Blue Men like a series of bejeweled Saturn-like orbits, threatening to be unleashed upon the exhilarated audience in a glittering fluid wash, a visual, aural, tactile overdose that engulfs and swallows as it mesmerizes, like a beautiful avalanche.
You are not prepared for what lies within the theater of the Blue Man. No matter how jaded and immovable you fancy yourself to be, the assault from the stage will always be a surprise, like a drug trip that you suddenly realize has gone too far, a stroll by the river that sees you drenched unexpectedly, or a trip to a foreign soccer game that inexplicably erupts into uncontrollable, frothing chaos and even a little fear.
The precise nature of the entertainment is impossible to describe, but if I were to say it is a combination of watching guys build a road, make music, guide you through a private dreamworld, and attempt to drown you with light and paper simultaneously, then I wouldn't be unfaithful to the spirit of the thing. You have been warned, and yet it is in your interest to ignore my warning, for who dares wins, and you will emerge a winner every time, when you buy tickets to see the magnificently inexplicable, the one and only, Blue Man Group.