One person's comfort zones are another's boundary-breaking trigger. Have you ever attended a production of "Our Town" with someone who has recently experienced great loss? Particularly if the loss was of a younger person? I remember seeing the Wilder classic during the despair-filled early years of the AIDS crisis, and the young, vital Emily's death hit the audience like a sledgehammer in a gingham glove. When Emily spoke in act three, the audience was awash not only in tears, but a sense of a genuine grief beyond the story's. I am not presuming AIDS alone was a factor. But the production landed in the 80s as an illuminating mirror. It wasn't some old chestnut that sent everyone home with a smug acceptance of the wonderful hand they'd been dealt. If it did, the acceptance might've been tempered with a sober gratitude.
My case is this: boundaries are relative, and they are pushed when they make emotional or intellectual demands on an audience through a transcendent experience, one that, as Marsha Norman opines, can only take place as a communal event. It doesn't have to be simulated sex or violence or "Red Light Winter" revenge. It can be about daring to genuinely explore human experience. I think it's dangerous to define boundary-pushing in exclusively rarefied sociopolitical terms. But then, I also think it's ludicrous to think "experimental" theater is all about magic realism.
Theater is dangerous when it tells the truth. And the truth has never been easy to hear or see. It's that simple, ultimately.
"I'm a comedian, but in my spare time, things bother me." Garry Shandling
Updated On: 1/14/15 at 08:49 AM