Punchdrunk's The Burnt City, Part 1/2
[This ended up being much longer than I thought it would be, so I'm breaking it up into two posts for now. Maybe more eventually...]
Well. I just got back from seeing four shows in three days. And I'm having a hard time thinking of a quick way to summarize my experience. Because, turns out (perhaps to no surprise), my feelings about the show and my time in it are COMPLICATED.
This is new for me. With Punchdrunk's work anyway. I don't feel just one way in particular about the show as a whole because it's really a sum of its parts. I'm finding that I can’t make a broad, generalized statement about The Burnt City. But I will say this: I did not feel the soul affirming, creatively inspiring magic in this show that I felt with Sleep No More and The Drowned Man. It seems that my relationship to their work has changed... which, again, is no real surprise.
That said, it is not a bad show! It is a masterful, challenging work of art with some moments of staggering brilliance. I was deeply moved and awed by a number of things I saw. Both tears and laughter were a part of those four shows for me. But I was not transported, my circuitry was not rewired, the lightning bolt of inspiration simply was not there.
Because of this, I wondered, "Was it worth it to fly to London to see this show four times?" and, "Would I want to come back?" In the end, I do think it was worth it (for Reasons… read on). However, I don't feel any desire to plan another trip any time soon.
But I want to keep this write up generally positive. I do have some pretty serious criticisms, but I don't feel like this is the space to be harping on the things that don't work.
Spoilers below, obviously.