“The Twenty-Sided Tavern” at the Broadway Playhouse

“The fourth wall has been shattered,” cries the Gamemaster, fresh from a shot of Malört. “Now our fate is in your hands.”

And with that epic cue, a couple hundred people stare down at their phones.

Is this a cultural revolution? A bold invitation into the seventh circle of digital hell? That, dear reader, all depends on whether playing fantasy role-playing games is your thing. More precisely, it has to be sufficiently your thing that you don’t just want to play them, either online in your PJs or in the basement with pals, but you want to watch performers in skinny jeans play them while you watch. And hoot and holler.

And make some decisions on your phone. “The Twenty-Sided Tavern,” a new family-friendly franchise (Malört notwithstanding) at the Broadway Playhouse at Water Tower Place for the next several weeks, is an interactive entertainment, a live version of the game Dungeons & Dragons, you might say, except that the show is careful to avoid attention from the intellectual property lawyers of Hasbro Inc., and thus avoids any and all proprietary terms. No Dungeon Master here. No Human Paladin. No Wood Elf Fighter. But those kinds of creatures — Maniacal Apothecary anyone? — abound.

The show does accommodate all the multiple decision trees beloved by gamers. In essence, you watch the aforementioned lively Gamemaster (played by David Andrew Greener Laws) and his sidekick, or tavern keeper, Sarah Reynolds. (Reynolds, who sits behind multiple terminals, is the game designer, while the loquacious DAGL is the writer.) These two banter as if you were watching the British quiz show “Pointless,” and then three young, improv-savvy actors (Carlina Parker is Fighter, Jack Corcoran is Mage and Madelyn Murphy is Rogue) play the role of various possible characters (each actor remembers at least three characters with names, identities and behaviors. Understudies’ heads must routinely explode).

You vote for who they play, as you do for what room they may enter as they head out from the Curious Hedgehog Tavern, and even what they might do when they get there. Custom digital backdrops accompany the choices (after the show, Reynolds ran me through various scenarios I had not happened to see).

On the night I did see the show, a pre-opening performance, the tech crashed a couple of times, meaning you had to rescan the requisite bar code — but it otherwise worked fine. Technology, of course, has now progressed to the point where players can see the collective responses in real-time.

My mind wandered for a moment to all of the frantic attempts I’ve seen over the years at making audience decisions part of interactive live entertainment, at least beyond shouting out suggestions a la Second City; the problem (and the bulk of the cost) was always in providing several hundred of the actual devices to transmit the choices. Nowadays, producers can be sure everyone has the right machine in their pockets, most likely already on vibrate.

Reynolds’ tech (Twine, Stream Deck) comes replete with decision trees to chart every possible journey through the woods, so to speak. Being of a certain age, I shuddered for a moment at how the old way of doing this kind of improv meant a Second City stage manager frantically writing everything down or keeping it in their heads. I’m glad Bernie Sahlins didn’t have to live to see the day where you just had to press a button. Just a different kind of skill, I suppose.

The game, which also includes in-person volunteering involving the titular multifaceted die, takes about two hours, with a pause for refreshment, and your reporter (sans tattoos and with monotone hair, both a rarity here) must note that the cacophonous audience around him appeared to be having a total blast, not least it seemed due to the pleasure of being surrounded by so many kindred spirits. There are many people who would, I fear, feel otherwise, although they are not likely to have read this far down in this particular review. But for those who know who they are, this clearly felt like an authentic kind of thing, which is no faint praise, gamer standards being pretty off the charts. Fun, and a lesson that people do leave you halfway through the wood.

“The Twenty-Sided Tavern” runs through Jan. 15 at the Broadway Playhouse, 175 E. Chestnut St.; 800-775-2000 and www.broadwayinchicago.com

Chris Jones is a Tribune critic.

cjones5@chicagotribune.com