“In an ambitiously experimental piece, Blood Show demonstrates the multiplicity of theatre”
Upon entering the Members Bar at Battersea Arts Centre, we are handed plastic ponchos — just in case we get splattered by (fake and washable) blood. This mysterious entrance to a mysterious piece sets the audience ablaze with whispers of curiosity; no one is quite sure what to expect. Indeed, even if one was to peruse the show’s description, its contents are kept quietly under wraps. The delight lies in the unknown, and it is best enjoyed with an open mind.
Blood Show forms a part of creator Ocean Hester Stefan Chillingworth’s Trilogy entitled The Extinction Trilogy. These three works (Monster Show, Blood Show and Nature Show) explore the removal of humans from the stage, at least in the capacity that we expect to observe them in. This taps into the curious notion of what people ‘really look like.’ Blood Show in particular takes what’s on the inside and displays it on the skin, in an attempt at highlighting the internal experience, exploring how we all contain our ghosts within us, tangibly displayed by the eerie movements of the literal ghost that seems to float around the space, singing in its simultaneously beautiful and frightening voice.
The stage is surrounded on all sides by the audience and the playing space indicated by a large white carpet. There is a white sofa-chair, a potted plant, and a large dispenser of fake blood. Someone sits in the chair, donning a white jumpsuit and covered in fake blood. Somewhere else stands someone covered in white paint. Moving about slowly but intently is the production’s ghosts. The two humans approach one another and begin, shockingly, to engage in a gory fight.
As the fight comes to a close and the surprise quietens, so the anticipation of what will come next grows. The two performers approach one another once more and, to the surprise of many, begin fighting again with seemingly the exact same choreography. The cycle continues, the fight commencing and closing again and again and again, for at least the first 30 minutes of the production. While this might seem tedious, the production circumvents this predilection by allowing the choreographed fight to become sillier and sillier as they continue. The theatricality and humor of the piece are a surprising relief. The tension eases somewhat; the audience’s difficulty figuring out if they are supposed to take what is happening on stage seriously or not very much so felt to be a part of the performance itself. The cognitive dissonance created by finding an objectively violent and gory fight that includes over 75 liters of fake blood somehow funny was an unmistakable and exhilarating duty of the audience member. In that sense, the audience is very much a part of this performance.
The production continues to surprise and shock in the second half, with more fake blood than one could anticipate seeing in any theatrical setting. While the disappearance of the two fighters at the piece’s close left a few questions unanswered, Blood Show was nevertheless a humorously shocking delight to behold.