A Trip to the Inexplicable: Atlas9

I think our thousands of longtime readers would agree that Cute and I are pretty positive people. Our whole purpose in our blogs is to amuse you, often by trying to point out new places for you to try, whether they are experiences or venues or even museums.

Recently in an effort to head off the February blahs, we went to Atlas9, knowing virtually nothing about it, except where it’s located, near the Legends.  None of our friends have been, at least not that they’ve told us. What fun thought we, a new escapade, one that we’ve never experienced and know nothing about. 

I can’t tell you how wrong we were. After waiting in a short line which felt like over half an hour, and after paying $40 a person, we each received a wristband which was supposed to unlock all kinds of adventures.  We had time to explore the open and nondescript GMC RV, parked inexplicably by the booth.   We waited a few minutes for a guide to explain what we were about to do but that largely consisted of a very short film that was supposed to feel sorta sci-fyey. Then we were let loose for what was billed as our great expedition.

My favorite word for this entire experience is inexplicable, which I’ve already used.  We wandered around, trying to make sense of a weak storyline and its resulting lights, music, and computer tasks to solve a mystery that was really never very clear. No rewards, no progress checks, no ah-ha’s. Some lights, some colors, some music.  No explanations and no directions.

There was an abbreviated performance by a Quixotic group accompanied by a very good saxophone player. There was a tall woman all dressed in white with a lampshade on her head. Why we don’t know. Inexplicable. There was a movie about making animated movies.

Maybe you can explain this exciting lampshade performance. We could not.

After moving through the assorted rooms for about an hour, although it seemed longer, health-nut Cute wandered off for a $7.00 hotdog, which he pronounced OK, even though there was no pickle relish. I said he should have started drinking. No, we both should.

I kept drifting around, looking for something that would inspire me to write. For a while, I thought it was because I’m too old and “just didn’t get it,” but as I wandered, I noticed most of the rest of the crowd was also meandering, looking perplexed.  There were all ages there and honestly, nobody looked like they were having a very good time except maybe those in the free arcade area. But since I did not interview anyone, I don’t know if that’s true because looks can be deceiving.  I may have been projecting my incomprehension.

Long story too long, we came home, and I looked up what I was supposed to find scintillating and exciting. Here’s what I found, thank you AI.

“Located near The Legends Outlets in Kansas City, KS, Atlas9 is a 45,000-square-foot narrative-driven immersive art experience built inside a transformed 1990s movie theater. The "experience" follows a sci-fi storyline where a projection experiment gone wrong has caused "forgotten films" to leak into reality, creating an "active containment zone" managed by a shadowy agency called FACADE.

Core Experience Features:

Interactive Exploration: Guests use RFID-enabled wristbands to scan over 70 touchpoints, unlocking story clues, missions, and "agent profiles" as they move through approximately 30 themed rooms.

Themed Worlds: The layout includes a labyrinth of corridors, secret tunnels, and surreal spaces like a 1930s-themed jazz club, a room made of glass mirrors, and a candy- themed world.

Live Performances: Daily shows feature the world-renowned Quixotic performance art group, with acts integrated into the shifting cinematic environments."

There's more but that should give you the idea.

Perhaps it would’ve helped had we known this initially. Or had a few gummies.  And while I’m a big believer in doing your research first, it didn’t occur to me that this was a necessary step to enjoy Atlas9.

We thought maybe teenagers or computer geeks might like it. Maybe. Perhaps it just wasn’t for us.  Maybe we’re not bright enough. Maybe we're not fond enough of the inexplicable.

If you go, at least you’ll know something about it beforehand and perhaps you’ll get more out of it.  Let us know if you go, and do.