Dead End is a dark and disturbing surrealist play that is guaranteed to make you uncomfortable. If it doesn’t, then I am not the person whose opinions you should be soliciting. From moment this show starts, you’re met with eerie sounds somewhat akin to TV static. It sets the tone for the questioning of what is and isn’t reality over the proceeding 50 minutes.
This play is a refreshing take on surrealism. It takes the concept of the subconscious beyond the armchair psychologists who love to drop Freud’s name into a conversation and call that discourse. There are clever references to the intricacies of dreams throughout. At one point an envelope is opened, with all the letters falling out and scattering across the floor, leaving only blank pages in hand. A common motif is flicking an elastic band on the wrist as a reality check to confirm wakefulness. Both actions address the fact that hands and written words are not illustrated clearly in dreams.
Dead End presented by The And Theatre
Texture is used in a way that I’ve never seen before. Flour, water, and ink add delicate but lingering details to the scenes. In one moment, the movement of flour in the air is captured perfectly by Natasha Mijat’s lighting; creating something in perfect cohesion with the direction of the actors. Lovers of noise will appreciate the sound. Anton Malyshev skilfully adds depths to the small theatre space at the Blue Room.
In a particularly confrontational scene, a mirror is picked up and directed at the crowd. Seeing your own reflection in the middle of a lamenting show evokes discomfort. I can imagine some people would interpret this as some reference to projecting, another popular psychology concept that people love to latch onto.
Anna Chmelova’s movements remind me why I love physical theatre as she becomes a contortionist, looking like her bones are about to escape the flesh prison in a vulgar display of gore. Exploring themes of drug use, Dennis Chmelov’s character traverses an insomniac landscape in which he desperately seeks delineation between reality, and the nightmares he endures which are perhaps less horrible than their wakeful alternative.
Dead End presented by The And Theatre
My advice to watching surrealist content is to not endeavour to make connections immediately. Give in to the visceral reaction in the moment, don’t over analyse it. The interpretation will come to you; you shouldn’t chase it. This show is a perfect example of how there can be so much enjoyment in the sensory consumption of a scene without needing to obsess over the deeper meaning.
The only thing resembling a criticism I can write is that the transition between scenes isn’t smooth at times. However, it’s a nice reminder that I am indeed watching a show. The reality check provides a flicker of comfort in this deeply unsettling 50 minutes of theatre.
At the end of the show, people were slow to get up off their seats and leave. It was evidence that everyone was deeply affected and needed time to revert back to reality before facing the outside world. I noticed my breath for a long time after I finished watching. Do not be mistaken, I relished in every minute of it.
Dead End is on at The Blue Room Theatre.