Head Poison
Plasticene, which specializes in physical theater, has always waged war on cliches, defying conventions and dashing expectations. Their first piece, the 1995 Doorslam, upended a device that’s launched a thousand comedy routines: opening and closing doors onstage. That show totally frustrated a friend of mine who’s a circus clown: he was shocked that Plasticene didn’t exploit any of the set’s comic potential–there were no doors slammed on hands, no people knocked off their feet when a door unexpectedly opened out.
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Plasticene performers also don’t call attention to the amazing things they do onstage. When certain local groups incorporate circus skills into their shows, they do it with a self-satisfied “Did you see what I just did?” Plasticene makes similarly difficult feats look like just one element among many in their visually startling pieces. A running gag in the troupe’s new Head Poison involves tables flying up toward the ceiling on cables, so when Mark Comiskey is hauled up by one hand 10 or 15 feet above the ground, it doesn’t seem dangerous–it’s just part of the show.
At the time I thought the problem was that Bullard wasn’t good with comedy. When I thought back on previous Bullard triumphs, all I could remember were such serious works as his terrifying version of ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore for A Red Orchid Theatre and the last Plasticene show, the somber, troubling 1999 Come Like Shadows…, a work full of images of domination and enslavement.
It takes a while for the humor in Head Poison to sink in because it takes almost half the show to figure out that we’re watching a comedy. And it’s thrilling to see order come out of what looked like chaos. But it’s a hard thing for performers to pull off. Being misunderstood–especially if one is dismissed as having nothing to say–is one of the risks of refusing to use cliches. I’m just glad Bullard and the Plasticene performers take that risk–and in the process discover new ways of making us laugh.
