A phantasmagoria and a fable. A giddy, resigned reflection on sad truth. A ridiculous, exquisite ode to the delusional and the actual. Written By Federico Garcia Lorca, The Butterfly’s Evil Spell is set in the world of insects. They’re just like us, except they’re bugs. You may not know any scorpions but you’ve probably known some guy just like him. Roach Boy is a teenager who wears a baseball cap, a suede vest and shades. Silvia has a crush on him, but he’s not interested. He may have fallen for the Butterfly. Notice, we don’t know if she’s evil, herself.
There’s a deeply pleasurable sense of the absurd, and of course, poetry, in Lorca’s script. It suggests Alice in Wonderland, or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: a solemn mask on the preposterous. The commonplace becomes fanciful (a gigantic cactus, a Taco Bueno soda cup tower, a sickbed made from a Whataburger compote). Animation and enchantment suffuses the players, the objects, the heavens. The strange and enigmatic not only accessible but tangible as a shoe, or thimble or belt buckle. Lorca’s microscope to this cosmos in small, transforms the familiar into a marvel. Just as poets (and other artists) focus on what we take for granted, they confer the gift of spectacle. Everything now has luster.
We all know Roach Boy’s quandary. We chuckle at his infatuation, but respect his struggle. Because we know that disillusionment and hurt. Lorca captures this as we see how Silvia cares for Roach Boy, but she’s not dazzling or dangerous enough. The appearance of the Butterfly is treated as a dreadful portent. We want Roach Boy to avoid this outcome, but not sure that he can. Butterfly’s Evil Spell magnifies (even lyricizes) the arrows of desire that make ruin unavoidable. When we’re young our elders are clueless. But once we’ve been wounded, skepticism is nearly intuitive. We see the lives of these creatures, nearly invisible without Lorca’s lens; the sorcery and smoke and the invocative singing and it all fits. The intersection of ecstasy with fatality. The world is what the world is, even when a goddess appears, in a diaphanous white gown.
The cast and crew et al of Butterfly’s Evil Spell amount to a team of what? Goblins, sprites, lunatics, craftsmen? Perhaps all of these. Bravado and the luxury of sharing rapture, awe, pathos. Facetiousness wrapped in chaotic bliss. It meanders, only the better to sneak up on you, my dear. This ensemble is splendid. Poised to amaze. Ready to deliver that wayward kiss.
Theatre Three has again embraced the visionary, intrepid, innovative. I remember their productions of The Adding Machine and The Minotaur. Both were unorthodox, with notes of the fantastic. They were daring choices, that paid off. (Though bravery doesn’t need validation.) Butterfly’s Evil Spell is another example of what can happen, when an established theater takes chances. What a rush to engage with a piece that surprises, amuses, entices and intrigues. That invites us on a vivid, wild, intoxicating ride.
Theatre Three presents The Butterfly’s Evil Spell, playing through Sunday, April 30th, 2023. 2688 Laclede Street, Suite 120, Dallas, TX, United States, Texas. 214-871-3300 X1 boxoffice@theatre3dallas.com. theatre3dallas.com