PSYCHOPOETICA
But by the show’s midpoint, these shadows had become as familiar as Disney cartoons, and the show had become more entertainment than an exploration of myths and realities about fear. That’s not necessarily a criticism: although in the end nobody will be frightened or provoked to deep thought by Psychopoetica, with the exception of one glaring insensitivity toward the end, it is fun to watch.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
In the small, rectangular performance space at Maniscala Chapel–appropriately enough, a converted mortuary–the ensemble surrounds the audience, literally forcing it to look over its shoulder. Although the device is obvious, it effectively produces nervous laughter. The show also has wonderful sound effects–creaking floorboards, mysterious pings, ominous coughs, clanging pots, twisting leather–that provide a haunted-house ambience. Additionally, much of Psychopoetica is played out in darkness, with lights used sparingly.
“Dreams,” the last sequence, is in many ways the most daring, but it is also where the play’s problems lie. The ensemble chose rape as the vehicle for exploring our individual capacity for evil. But rape is far more complex than shown here. Beginning with “Death Duet,” the ensemble plays women’s rape fantasies against the reality of the act–yet it spotlights the rapist, not the victim. Amazingly–especially considering Psychopoetica’s focus on violence–this rape is only vaguely violent and, worse, highly eroticized. In Psychopoetica, rape is a sexual crime, not necessarily or primarily a violent one. Given the amount of empirical material on the causes of rape, this is incredibly irresponsible. The ensemble almost seems to suggest that women’s sexual fantasies about rape may play a role in the rape itself.
