“The DWZ show which succeeded in truly marrying spirituality and performance for a western audience.”

“Series of unannounced public performance provocations, which served as a prelude to the Holy Bone performance. In this sense, it doesn’t matter if anyone notices the Holy Bone performers—or “Boners,” as Riccio refers to them. These performers do share something with the shamanistic figures that inspired them, insofar as they are not so much meant to be characters as symbolic actors, and their actions point our awareness beyond our experience of the physical world toward the suggestion of some metaphysical other. You might encounter them; you might not. You might have already encountered them without even knowing it. Their work is meant to pass in and out of notice in a way that simply disrupts normal Dallas life, casts doubt on our otherwise thoughtless experiences of the day-to-day. Holy Bone is a warning or maybe a prophecy. Beware, Dallas: things may not always be what they seem. Pay attention.”

“Dead White Zombies is one of the most interesting theater companies in North Texas, offering immersive experiences and so-out-there-it’s-cool scripts by Thomas Riccio. Will you be talking about it for days afterwards? Definitely.”

“This is voluptuous, loopy, scintillating theatre that challenges the soul and rattles our teeth. It’s black humor laced with the lyric authority of dream logic. It’s metaphysical redemption masquerading as grotesque psychological quackery. It’s audacious, original and implacable.”

“If there’s a common thread in the Zombies shows, it’s in the way Riccio uses language and performance to remind us of the confusion, complications and frustrations implicit in humanity. In DP92, Riccio attempts to unite the origins of life — the mollusk — with the controlled chaos of modern humanity. But really, what he’s reminding us is that we’re all in this life together. We all come from the same place and return to it, as life folds in on itself over and over again. ”

“Regardless of what it means to you, Dead White Zombies’ latest immersive show KaRaoKe MoTeL strangely offers a sense of well-being.”

“At a Dead White Zombies show rules do not apply. Known for its site-specific performance installations, staged everywhere from warehouses to a former stash house. The original scripts are fluid and not confined to any one playing space; audiences are often left to wander in and out of the action, which can span rooms and even into the outdoors. And taking out your phone to post on Facebook or make a Vine is completely encouraged.”

“There are no rules in this seedy motel, except when you can check-in and when you can check out. As you leave behind the mind-numbing fluorescent lights of the cubicles, your adventure awaits. You may begin curiously jiggling doorknobs. Behind one you may find a man in drag with his hand up a ventriloquist dummy, another the bathroom. How you react to what you find is the theater.”

“This thirst for faster and bigger development is assaulted head on by writer/director Thomas Riccio and his folk avant-garde theater company, Dead White Zombies (DWZ). Their self-generated, immersive production, Bull Game (winner loses action figures), puts on display the last, dying gasp of Western Civilization.”

“Subtitling a play about a dystopian competition where the winner is allowed to procreate and save the human race while the loser is ritualistically slid beneath a circular saw, “winner loses action figures” is either trivial or incredibly apropos. In Bull Game, Dead White Zombies’ latest immersive and interactive show, the stakes are high but the delivery is grounded. This is a show that lampoons professional sports, male posturing, and our own predictable crowd reactions while giving a sly wink.”

“This past weekend I was a part of the most electrifying and brutal theater performances of my theater going life. It was all thanks to a group called Dead White Zombies. The performance I lived was an immersion piece staged in an abandoned crack house in Dallas. And it defies all the words. I have spent the last three days desperately searching for ways to describe it.”

““Taken apart, as in autopsy, it strains and fragments, laments and groans, lashes out with sexual angst and sweaty frustration. Screens scatter randomly throughout the candle-lit landscape, showing 1960’s home movie family holiday clips over and over, backwards and forwards, excerpts from a Fred Astaire dancing extravaganza and unrecognizable black and white action films. Scenes ebb and flow as the audience floats along, adrift, overwhelmed by a cacophony of images and sound. Sensate, intemperate immersion. Oddly enough, “w(hole)” weaves together with satisfying symphonic grace. Emerge refreshed, cleansed, jubilant.””

“Scenes spark around us like a long tail of igniting firecrackers. Another room is illuminated. Next, a vignette. Soon all are available for exploration. The twisting paths feel like the unfathomable tunneling of memory storage, but the lives we’re moving through are not our own. Even the sound, while anchored scene by scene, bleeds gently into the next. We’re fumbling into another’s databank, threading together the experiences as we travel.”

“Flesh World keeps it real, real meta. The obscure story drops viewers into a disorienting world and demands they work to uncover their own conclusions and to form interpretations based on few narrative clues. I’ve yet to figure out portions - the delineations between the spiritual realm and the protagonist’s own psyche - and the fact that it’s still on my mind speaks to the impression it imparts.”