16 paver oF THE ARTS / DECEMBER 1995 Closetland Anything Goes Cafe November 16 Theatre and poetry, these are complex animals. And so, they are brought together by this upstart company, Backward Glance Productions, the deranged child of one Phil Black. Closetland is an adaptation of the screenplay written by Rhada Baradwaj, taking what was conceived of as film and making it live, right in front of you. This is the strength of the production. The play deals with strong subject matter, namely, interroga- tion and the techniques employed by those who make it their profes- sion. Such ghastly stuff is made all too real by Phillip Black and his counterpart in the piece, Silya Wiggins, who plays a children’s author brought in on charges of trying to seduce young readers into sedition. As the head officer on the case, Black is insidious and cool, blindfolding his “partner” in the investigation, prisoner AB-234 (Wiggins) and: then taking on dif- ferent personas such as prisoner XYZ and Joe Gutter. XYZ is a friend of sorts, tortured on her account, telling her that the Head Officer was once a university pro- fessor who played the piano. All she ever had to do was to beg his mercy and he would release her. Joe Gutter molests, is cruel, berates her , and forces her to smell garlic while he’s sitting on her lap eating a tomato. Later, the Head Officer will pull the same garlic out of his pocket. She recog- nises the smell, revealing the deception, and the prisoner's trust in her own version of reality is eroded. At least, that’s the theory. The portrayal is chilling. The poetry aspect of the play seems to be loosely grafted on to the whole structure. They are interesting as poetry but, they are set up as part of what is taking place on the stage. In a way, they end up detracting from the piece in that, after the poetry is finished, and the body of the play begins, you are left wondering what the point of all this was. Somehow, the idea was there, but the poetry ae * ¢ ge & ws poorly considered, and poorly integrated with the rest of what’s going on. For a fledgling company, this was a grand piece of experimental thespianism. As with many experi- ments there were both successful and unsuccessful aspects of the work. I was moved by the experi- ence that I had. I was frightened by what goes on around us, what we do to each other with the “power” that is assigned to those who can toe whatever line it is they have to toe. It has been gov- ernmental policy in the U.S. to tape all hospital conversations, most of which are destroyed, but those had by artists, political activists and writers are never destroyed, but archived. In the play we see these used against Silya Wiggins’ character during her interrogation. I don’t know if this still goes on, but I always watch what I say. Closetland ques- tions all those parts of things, the cruelty that some decide is neces- sary in order to preserve a “free” society. aspects of the play seem somewhat __-Kacey McDougall <® a SO ba was warned that.Halloween par- ties tend to possess a certain generic quality. However, this one had a sarcastically morbid accor- dion player, free chili, and slip- pery-floor dancing to music done in part by ECIAD student Aamir Ghani. Beat that with an invigo- rating turnout and we had a per- cussive evening. Judging by the craftsmanship that went into making the red toothache mask, I imagine that the prize of a leather portfolio (donated by Maxwell’s Artists’ Materials) will be put to good use. I’m curious to see how the Devil’s Den tatoo parlor will alter ‘scream- ing gold bikini woman’ with the $50 gift certificate that she won. One of the more ambiguous prizes was to have tea with the Angel of Death. Edward Scissorhands has not yet faced his winnings; does this correspond with the character’s denial of such an encounter? Earl Grey will always be around waiting for him. During my brief bartending duties, I was given consistent ulti- matums to exchange cider tickets for beer. One creature that approached us said that his nutri- tional requirements could not pos- sibly be filled without the ale. There was an attractive twist to serving: the overlapping visits of so many costumed individuals started to create a certain scenario that no other type of festivity could generate. Not forgetting that this event was strictly a mercenary endeavor, the proceeds will most likely go towards a foundation show catalog. It made sense for the party to be slyly upheld by moving it to the old Flux gallery, where fun and wackiness continued into infinity. As for the next pub night, if you don’t come, bionic you will not be. -Suzanne Holland