Esme Davis
Taking a twist on the age-old binary of the magician and the magician’s assistant, Mamoru Iriguchi’s PAINKILLERS builds a world of magic where tricks are exposed through our own private window backstage.
As the character of Mamoru steps on stage, she is a sight to behold, costumed in a captivating knitted body, both uncanny in its realism and altogether other-worldly. It encapsulates and anchors the central themes of the show. Questions arise about the connection Mamoru has with her body, and as it gets injured and exposed over the course of the show these questions rise in risk and controversy.
The text, delivered like an internal monologue being projected out towards us, skims over the top of these questions, alarmingly apathetic and casual about the increasing damage the character’s outer body is sustaining. There is space for a variety of interpretations over what this disconnection might be referencing. It could certainly provide a voice and a reflection for trans bodies, a metaphor for the disconnect between identity assigned at birth and a person’s genuine self. More broadly, it could also be seen as a representation of suppressing or ignoring the painful situations we find ourselves in. The meaning of this show is left very open, which is intriguing but does become aimless as the performance unfolds.
The show quickly into a pattern. Mamoru steps onto stage, behind the curtain and out of our view, and we hear a familiar magic trick play out. She then returns to the backstage area we can see, with fresh injuries on the knitted body as a result of the trick. She explains how the trick was intended to be carried out harmlessly, with the conversation spiralling off as she explores her emotions and body. This is all woven into a romantic arch between the magician and the magician’s assistant, with stories told of how they test and show their love.
The script is given a potency through several interesting techniques. Firstly, a portion of the script is delivered through voice-overs, with the performers precisely lip-synching along. This adds a dynamic texture to what is a very text-heavy show. Additionally, each spoken word, live or voice-over, has a projected transcription. Not only does this ensure the piece is accessible to those who might struggle with spoken English, but also adds the potential for foreshadowing, with several lines giving away what was going to happen before it took place on stage. Some audience members might find this irritating, but I found it captivating – having a few moments to briefly speculate how a moment might play out before it did.
This show became most alive in its final few minutes, where two audience members are cast into roles that have been described and fleshed out throughout the story. This is comedic as they mouth along to audio they’ve never heard before, but quickly takes a dark and chilling turn. Although this moment creates an electric atmosphere, I felt at a loss as to where it fit in with the story and the broader message. The relationship between Mamoru and her body which had been so carefully built up had nothing to do with these two audience members, and I was left wondering why they were relevant.
This performance provides a unique and thrilling experience for it’s audience, tugging them into a fascinating plotline that unfolds into an exhilarating absurdity. The patterns, themes, and emotions depicted on the stage are strong and intense, with a captivating performance from Mamoru. However, the show lacks purpose. I am not sure what to take away from it, and left feeling like I was missing something, some obscure message woven into the story. Or perhaps it was intended to be a momentary experience, to be appreciated and analysed within the theatre but without a specific agenda.
Unique, compelling, and electric, brace to get sewn up in the magic of PAINKILLERS.
Recommended Drink: Dirty martini, the olive is necessary.
You can catch PAINKILLERS until the 25th of August at Theatre 3 at Anatomy Lecture Theatre at Summerhall
from 17:45 (60mins). Tickets are available through the EdFringe Online Box Office.
Jake Mace
Lamesha Ruddock
Jasmine Silk
