Red Machine (Part Two): this is the positive review
Toronto: This sentence is the first sentence. This is the second sentence and it informs you, the reader, that this is a review for Red Machine Part 2, the second part of a theatrical experiment presented as part of this year’s SummerWorks Festival.
With the following paragraph I will describe what sort of experiment Red Machine is. Seven playwrights have been asked to consider seven different parts of the brain. These theatre-explorations are being presented over three separate productions with this being the second installment in which language, vision and the pleasure centre are considered (leaving me to wonder what exactly is left of interest for the other playwrights). With its collectively created ethos, perhaps more than anything I’ve seen this year at SummerWorks Red Machine felt like something that could have emerged out of Vancouver with all the strengths and weakness that statement entails.
After the colon, I will tell you of my emotional response to Red Machine: I loved it. Not unconditionally; while I loved the overall idea and the execution, the work is uneven and at times chaotic. But that’s okay, because this is an experiment, after all.
The show starts with the strongest piece: This Sentence Is The Title by Rick Roberts. Putting me in mind of the old acting exercise of exploring how many ways there are to say “I love you”, a single performer (Christopher Stanton) recites variations on the statement: “This sentence….” It is a simple conceit which proves to be both subtle and exhilarating. It explores how effectively language can transfer abstract ideas from one mind to another while at the same time how limited language can be at communicating emotional states or other forms of truth including notions of our self. The piece forces you to rethink your relationship to words and what words are (“This sentence has never been uttered”). It also ends with a beautifully realized evocation of the dawn of consciousness (I’m still not sold on the dog howling though). Stanton’s ability to ground the work while remaining true to Roberts’ conceit is masterful. It is worth checking out Red Machine for his performance alone.
The second work, The Illusionist’s Heart, by Jenny Young, operated in much more familiar theatrical terrain. We are introduced to a mother (Paula-Jean Prudat) and her blind son (David Yee) with Stanton again appearing as, I think, the father. For a piece that explored vision, it wasn’t always clear what was going on. Perhaps this reflects, in part, the challenge of using text as the starting point to explore a visual sense. Appropriately, the piece does make use of some effective, low-tech magic and illusions – it would have been great to see more of this.
The third piece, My Pleasure, by Tara Beagan was much more on track. Stanton is now trapped in a wheelchair with, seemingly, only two functions available to him: thinking and getting erections. He is unable to communicate with his wife who wants to make use of all those erections (good girl). For some reason, Stanton in his immobilized state is distressed by his wife’s actions and would like her to stop but can’t, of course, express this to her. We hear the male character’s thoughts through a recorded voice over. In addition, Yee plays the physical personification of the pleasure centre. I found these last two elements to be the least interesting parts in the work. The personification just reminded me of the old saw of the devil sitting on your shoulder, urging you to do naughty things. As for the voice-over I found it just did too much of the work for the audience. Still, the wife’s situation is wonderfully creative. She has posted notes all over the room with details of the couple’s past sexual encounters written on them. She pulls down one of the notes and begins to re-enact the past while straddling her husband. This is a weirdly erotic/transgressive idea that never quite gets as hot and heavy as it should.
I think we were treated to the husband’s voice over in the last piece, in part, because the three stories are meant to be interlinked. If I understand correctly, Stanton is playing a single character – Hugo – who has checked into a motel room in an attempt to overcome writer’s block and is “unexpectedly consumed by the search for a missing guest”. I mention this at the end because this overall concept is not immediately obvious to the audience (at least to those of us who didn’t experience part 1). I’m not sure how important this linking device is and perhaps it will all become clearer when the three parts are brought together in a final production.
Still, we glimpsed the potential of a single narrative when Stanton, free of the wheelchair, looks at us and announces “This is a sentence” repeatedly. It’s true, it is a sentence – a piece of language – it was also true that his character (whoever he is) is also suffering from some form of sentence, some form of entrapment.
Cool, eh?
For a different view on Red Machine (Part Two) check this out.
If you’re curious, you can see the PLANK review of Part One here