Some shows tell a story. Others ask questions.
ExtraO1dinary Aliens does both. Sometimes gently, sometimes playfully, and sometimes with the quiet weight of a question that lingers long after the lights come up.
What is extraordinary?
Is it crossing an ocean? Learning a new language? Leaving your friends and family behind to chase something uncertain?
And if that is extraordinary, what is ordinary?
These are the questions circling this clever and thoughtful piece about ambition, identity, and the strange bureaucratic maze that can stand between a dream and the person chasing it. The show explores the experience of artists navigating the American immigration system, specifically the visa category reserved for individuals of “extraordinary ability.”
A category that, as the show suggests, raises more questions than answers.
Extraordinary according to whom?
Measured against what?
Hollywood? Broadway? Cirque du Soleil?
One particularly pointed moment asks: if immigrants must prove exceptional knowledge of American culture and history, how many Americans themselves would pass the same test? Do you know all the past presidents? Every national holiday?
It is a sharp observation, delivered with humor rather than bitterness. That tone carries the show throughout.
Because while ExtraO1dinary Aliens touches on serious themes, it does so with a sense of play. The production team clearly enjoyed building this world, and the audience benefits from that energy. One highlight involves an alien encountering pizza for the first time and analyzing it with complete sincerity: bread with bread, sauce, and cheese. The conclusion is simple. Even bad pizza is good pizza.
Hard to argue with that.
The show also challenges the language we use. Why do we call immigrants “aliens”? At its core, the word feels strangely dehumanizing. The piece never answers the question directly, but by raising it, the creators invite the audience to reconsider a label that has become oddly normalized.
At its heart, though, the show is not really about visas or paperwork. It is about the universal act of trying.
Following your dreams can feel as difficult as flying to the moon. Perhaps even harder when you are an artist attempting to build a life in America. The pressure to compare yourself to others, to measure your success through awards, recognition, or proximity to fame, is constant.
But ExtraO1dinary Aliens gently pushes back against that idea.
Maybe success is simply saying, “Hey Mum, I did something I am proud of.”
Maybe the real victory is the attempt.
And perhaps going home does not mean failure. It simply means the journey took a different shape.
Technically, the production is impressively tight. The two hour runtime flies by thanks to strong pacing and a cast that feels exceptionally well rehearsed. The extraordinary writing of Carolina Do is brought to life by the clever direction of Vas Eli supported by assistant director Isabella Creado, co-producer Maria Müller, and the ever impressive line producer Federica Borlenghi.
Maria Müller and Vas Eli both impressively pull double duty also playing the parts of the smart and witty Alien and honest and emotional Romanian immigrant Corneliu respectively.
Early on, the stage setup appears almost underwhelming. It looks like a random backroom with a projection screen and minimal staging. But as the show unfolds, it becomes clear that everything has been deliberately placed. What initially feels accidental reveals itself as carefully structured storytelling.
It is a satisfying piece of theatrical craft.
By the end, the show lands on a hopeful note. Through humor, reflection, and the occasional cosmic metaphor, the piece suggests that the effort to dream, to create, and to inspire others is itself something extraordinary.
In other words, everyone deserves their shot at the moon.
And after spending two hours with ExtraO1dinary Aliens, you might even start to believe that Earth, messy and complicated as it is, may be worth saving after all.