If all the world's a stage

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts 
-Shakespeare, As You Like It

Considering the world as one grand dramatic piece of various genres of many themes, I feel as though trapped in an Artaudian Theatre of Cruelty production.  Disturbing and often unpleasant elements added through lighting, sound, performance- enveloping the viewer in the reality of suffering.

Little is needed for the effect of screeching.  The deafening noise can be produced my the merest thing; a door closing can be enough on the onset of a migraine.  The roaring almost hangover-esque cacophony of everyday life.  "But you don't really care for music, do you?" making sense in the context of the coming waves- a known drowning in the pained existence.  Becoming trapped in the now.

All light becomes enemy.  Even the dimmest candle burning itself out is enough to stab through the iris into the brain with the thought, "let me die."  A vampirical cave created of one's home, wherein lamps are broken in painful rages, blankets hung over shuttered or blinded windows.  The glowing reflection in the cat's eyes too much- go away.

How to make the outsider enter into this experience?  Perhaps a theatre of cruelty would support the effort.  Shine bright lights into the eyes of the audience, let the actors speak too loudly and roughly, their words come to the seated participants as a confused jumble that is sometimes lost beyond audible-- let them scream then whisper, speak directly to the outsiders then ignore their existence.  Let music play unkindly-- a popular song, perhaps, but distorted into a grating noise that is, again, too loud.  Turn down the temperature-- may audiences see their own breaths.  Pain is a cold sensation, but sometimes hot.  Let it be too hot as well.  Changing between intermission.

There can be a fourth wall.  Yet, it should be broken at the end.  Pain is a subjective happening, but I would like it to be beyond.  Perhaps the stage as a scene on the rooftop-- from it, the actor jumps.  Four feet or so in reality, one reality, but in the realness of the scene, she will go to her death.  Lights down.

Darkness can be used.  There are some lovely films paying tribute to the darkness.  The comfort in its presence- a place of hiding from the pursuer.  A monologue speaking to its wonder as a space of relative freedom from the glaring beams.

The pained existence is a theatre of cruelty in life.  You are forced to look at the nature of suffering as a real and constant thing.  To share this reality and bring empathy, the audience must suffer as well.  I would wish pain upon no one, but share the other effects.  Pain is not a lonely sensation.


Night Light - These bloopers are hilarious