A chilling experience in the fanciful, violent and deranged, Reykjavik is a series of episodes involving sexuality of same gender partners. Whether or not this is a commentary on the homocentric universe is difficult to say. It is set in Reykjavik, Iceland. Dark, frozen milieu? Certain thematic threads emerge. The supernatural. Violence and/or danger. Deception. Anger. In the first brief narrative three men and a woman (passed out drunk) occupy a booth in a nightclub so loud that dialogue is projected on a screen behind them. The mark (James) is about to be drugged and seriously abused. James tells a story about the disappearance of his older sister. The drunk woman declares that she is magic. And honestly, whether or not you’re looking for a temporary sex fix, on some level, we are always hoping for magic.
Each sexual encounter carries a sinister subtext, a lack of respect and frankness. In this regard, Reykjavik suggests other shows, such as Hello, Again and Closer. The difference is that playwright Steve Yockey imbues each episode with a fairy tale sense of the inevitable and secular miracles: the stranger forever just on the perimeter of your attention, crows watching a couple’s lovemaking and sending them messages. In several encounters blood, thick and profuse, erupts. A sense of improbable probability suffuses the play. For all its strangeness and chilling scenarios, it feels recognizable. The bizarre narratives are nonetheless familiar. Which, of course, only serves to get Reykjavik under our skin.
Kitchen Dog Theater continues to present remarkable, overwhelming, sharp theatre that challenges, surprises, frightens and delights. You find your seat and you have no idea where you’re going to end up, by the time the actors take their bows. Just like any other kind of literature, theatre that submerges us in the realms of dreams (hallucinations, the unimaginable, a mashup of intensity, chaos, dread) is a gift. A grace. Kitchen Dog is fearless and wise enough to make their shows visceral, not that the intellectual isn’t there. But so much of the dialogue, the unspoken feels cunning, implacable. If you are up for a sacrament of the broken, ferocious world. If you’re aching for a drama that is like no other. Do not miss Reykjavik.
Kitchen Dog Theater presents: Reykjavik. Playing June 6th-30th. 2600 North Stemmons Freeway, Suite 180, Dallas, Texas 75207. (214) 953-1055. www.kitchendogtheater.org