Jake Mace
Content Warning: Discussion of Transphobic Violence, Hate Crime, Murder, and Homophobia.
A pizza has just arrived for a serial killer and his mother – but only one of them will be eating tonight. He has just returned from a murderous rampage targeting trans women, and has brought that violence now to his family’s doorstep. Danilo Napoli’s surprising and gripping deepdive into the roots of religious dogma, trauma, homophobia and transphobia in Italian society is a riveting solo thriller delivered with an excess of energy and refined characterisation. Without skipping a beat, Napoli lays forth what becomes an unexpected and brilliant call to arms against violent and institutional hate crime and transphobia.
The show’s Italian title translates to White Noise, a motif used both starkly within the play’s soundscaping and as a part of the core messaging of the piece – at once a suffocating, wincing clamour and a comfort to our main character that suppresses the oppressive commotion of the outside world. Set in a series of flashbacks and in conversation with his mother, an oversized doll lying limp on an armchair, we witness the events that led to the rampage unfurl, and a devilishly deployed bait and switch that evokes the fine writings of Shirley Jackson.
Set somewhere and some time in Italy – a setting that could easily either be the present, past or future – the serial killer lays out his manifesto to his mother, and the life of someone he portrays as one of his victims, a trans sex worker named Rossella. It becomes apparent that both have been oppressed and suppressed by societal expectations, but as we begin to unpack their personal histories the true magnitude of abuse that has been experienced comes to light.
The result is disturbing and deeply unsettling – but one that refreshingly confronts the brutal realities of violence against trans people from a number of vertical sources – the patriarchy, organised religion, government, and most horrifyingly, the realities of conversion therapy. With pathos and undeterred focus, the script elevates the voices of the most marginalised queer people in society and calls for urgent action to liberate people from suppressed trauma.
Napoli’s performance is a masterclass in acting, with defined characterisation he portrays each character in this story. All are clearly defined but it is his presentations of his mother and latterly himself at his most unhinged that stir an intense emotion in the audience. The presentation is subtle at points too, with each vignette adding a new layer. While the piece is primarily a piece of crime fiction, it jumps across genre as a thriller, retelling, character piece and at times utilising some physical elements to cornice the plot.
Expansive production design refines the presentation of the story under the swift direction of Yari Gugliucci, the show has a professional grade lighting design that far surpassed expectations I had when entering the venue for the first time. Coloured backlighting creates some truly haunting moments, while non-diegetic voiceover provides context without over-exposing the story, allowed to come to life in the last few minutes of the play as we realise what has actually been going on in our killer’s mind throughout the events on show.
You may at first wonder where the convergence with trans rights appears in this show – and it is one that you will have to trust the process to gather all of the pieces together within – but trust me, it soon becomes apparent that there is a great deal of research, and a deep sense of championing trans liberation at the centre of this story.
Dark, unrelenting and desperately urgent – Rumore Bianco is a monster show waiting to burst at the seams. I hope to see it translated to English and brought to more audiences in all of its vitality and tenacity.
Recommended Drink: Pair this with a Dark and Stormy cocktail.
Performances of Rumore Bianco have now concluded at Catania OFF Fringe Festival 2025.
