Sophie and Gregor are a married couple who share a home and a psychiatrist, perhaps ill-advisedly. His name is Dr. Frans. They see him separately, without guessing his advice may leave something to be desired. Now, an unbalanced therapist is not necessarily a bad one, but when he says to shove their emotions down, we might wonder. You’d think this would be the last goal you’d be aiming for. You don’t heal a problem by ignoring it.
Gregor confides that he has killed Wink, a scruffy, malodorous cat Sophie rescued. But before he buried Wink, Gregor skinned him. Dr. Frans acknowledges the transgression and dismisses it. Of course, Gregor lies to Sophie, who is distraught. In the meantime, Wink (our cat) miraculously rises from the dead. Was he accidentally buried alive, or did Gregor wish to torture him further? Whatever the explanation, playwright Jen Silverman imbues the event with enigma and suggestions of the metaphysical. Wink tracks down Dr. Frans and rocks his world. The more one learns about the other, the more beguiled.
A prevailing notion regarding sexuality, humanity and romance is a catch. Some might contend that the most delectable, intense sex is the opposite of the formal, the civilized. But if we dispense with good manners, if we unleash the id (if you will) how far is too far? Some may piss or thrash or humiliate, but when do we cross the line? (Consider Damage by Josephine Hart or Steps by Jerzy Kosinski.) Both Sophie and Gregor speak wistfully of their courtship, laden with tenderness and surprise, but now it seems the only thing left is deception and estrangement.
It may be too late to call it a trend, but it’s not unusual to see plays that begin as comedy (in this case sly, shadowy satire) and gradually move into the realm of anger and despair. Silverman, it seems, loves to play. In the best sense. She may push a bit to make a point, but it’s a venial sin. Wink is perhaps the perfect metaphor for unapologetic, pragmatic impulse. He may be amoral, but neither is he vindictive or conflicted. Wink is a spectacular circus of alpha rage, savagery, regret, adoration, chaos: flouting the edge of the abyss. A mashup of romance, bestiality and despondency.
Second Thought Theatre presents Wink, playing June 26th-July 13th, 2024. 3400 Blackburn St. Dallas, TX 75219. (214) 897-3091. secondthoughttheatre.com