In a dystopian yet not-so-unfamiliar world, a group of friends defy an oppressive social order to take refuge together in an abandoned mansion. Outside, a storm rages. The sun has not risen in days.
It feels like the sort of evening that inspired Mary Shelley to write Frankenstein and give birth to the science fiction genre. So it is no surprise that the creators of this site-responsive theatrical experience took inspiration from that infamous evening in 1816 (the year without a summer), when a group of friends and lovers (including Shelley, as well as Lord Byron) huddled around the fireplace in a rented villa, telling ghost tales and challenging one another to write scary stories of their own.
Like all great horror, Darkness prompts us to ponder on humanity, desire and connection
In Darkness, each of the quarrelsome friends’ tales treads the path of classical horrors and haunting erotic fantasies. Their monologues are enhanced by the intriguing physicality of the performances, dramatic shifts in lighting, unexpected surprises hidden in the staging, and hair-raising jump scares. (Has the girl from The Grudge ever haunted your dreams? Yeah, have fun.)
Are scary stories not enough to lure you in? The biggest drawcard is the curious venue where the action takes place. The old Newtown School of Arts Library building at 5 Eliza Street (not to be confused with the library on Brown Street) has been held in trust for more than 100 years to provide space for artists. For this experience, it has been transformed into a lost world of extinct things by designer Isabel Hudson (The Mousetrap, American Psycho, Cry-Baby).
No cameras are allowed in the theatre upstairs, and meanwhile, the bar downstairs – along with the passageways and bathrooms – is kitted out like the gothic vintage curio store of your dust-speckled fantasies. Bookshelves are stacked with an artful jumbling of leatherbacks and knick-knacks, apothecary bottles and taxidermied creatures. Vacant eyes follow you from oil paintings and porcelain dolls dotted around the venue.
Upstairs, the lighting design by Benjamin Brockman (Lady Tabouli, Angels in America Part 1 & 2) is perhaps the most impressive part of the staging, cutting through the literal darkness to bathe scenes in longing blues and foreboding reds. A stark, glowing red beam occasionally slices through the action, weaving through the glass doors that line the back of the stage, enhancing the sense of imminent danger.
Back to the story – these quarrelsome acquaintances, are they an estranged polycule or what? Or perhaps, just a group of old pals whose lives and urges have become inescapably intertwined, tangled and untangled, as they in turn desperately hold on to a closeness they once knew? They all seem to find themselves much more terribly interesting than anyone outside of their clique.
Do the tales they weave serve as a distraction from the terror that darkens their door, or are they a window into the fears and desires that have led them to where they are? Likewise, are we the audience, often visible to each other as we sit either side of the traverse stage, looking for distraction from the foreboding course of history "out there", or to make meaning of it all?
There are indeed moments that hit a little too close to home – from the implication that five friends gathering in one home is "illegal" at the time they have congregated, to bitter arguments between a couple that has drifted from one another, spats between casual lovers where one is more invested than the other, and bedraggled friendships where each person loves and despises the other in equal measure (and you can never be sure which side will win out).
Like all great horror, Darkness prompts us to ponder on humanity, desire and connection. Arrive early, grab a cocktail and sidle up to a stuffed baby crocodile in the parlour, avoid eye contact with a ringleted porcelain doll, lose yourself in this intimate and eerie experience, and relish in the afterglow when the performance is done.
Running at a tight 100 minutes with no interval, the performance doesn’t overstay its welcome. If you do find yourself a little in the dark about what is going on, just lean into the unknown.
Darkness is the gothic love child of artists Andrew Bovell (Lantana, Head On, When the Rain Stops Falling), Zoey Dawson (Australian Realness, The Unspoken Word is Joe, Calamity), Dan Giovannoni (Loaded, Merciless Gods, Jurassica) and Megan Wilding (Game. Set. Match., A Little Piece of Ash), together with director Dino Dimitriadis (Cleansed, Angels in America Parts I & II, Overflow).
The skilled actors bringing this tale to life are Alec Snow (Holding the Man, The Nether, Home and Away), with Caroline L. George (The Marriage Agency, Three Fat Virgins Unassembled, Breathe), Jerome Meyer (War Horse, Storm Boy, Laser Beak Man), Imogen Sage (The Last Tentacle, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Claudel, Woyzeck + Marie), and Drew Wilson (Holding the Man, Othello, A Midsummer Night’s Dream).
Content note: this production involves references to pregnancy loss and suicidality.
Darkness is running at The Library, 5 Eliza St, Newtown, until March 12, 2023. Tickets start at $69 and you can snap yours up here.
