BRING EARPLUGS, AND HUNKER DOWN

Radoslaw Rychcik/Stefan Zeromski Theatre, In The Solitude of Cotton Fields
Posted by: Forrest Martin
Photo by: Gordon Wilson

In The Solitude of Cotton Fields is what you’d get by steeping a bag of A Clockwork Orange in an expensive tumbler of crazy Polish water. Set to a relentless, live drum ‘n bass soundtrack, two men wax philosophic/poetic about cruising each other on a dark street. The eternally literary back and forth – as they take turns spilling their respective, cerebral views in the form of rock-opera monologues – does nothing to personally pull me into a narrative (the whole show is in Polish, and subtitled, so you can’t get too involved in fixing your attention on any one person for long – though the projected subtitles make for an arresting visual effect). You could call this show “communication”, but not “entertainment”. I left the 75 minute production battered, aware that the actors just gave strenuous performances (they’re both impressively self-commanding), but the screaming, naked catharsis was for them, not me.