It’s a welcome return for spooky ‘Phantasmagoria’
Orlando’s favorite creep show is back, as stylishly spooky as ever.
“Phantasmagoria,” created and directed by John DiDonna, is on its sixth installment now. The simple premise remains the same: A band of storytellers, able to travel through time, keeps alive the tales that illuminate the darkest corners of the human soul.
But “Phantasmagoria” always has been greater than its concept. Its seductive charm lies in DiDonna’s story selections — past years’ tales have ranged from the well-known, such as Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven,” to obscure (to Americans, at least) folklore from around the world.
The stylized delivery of the stories only adds to the appeal, as troupe members speak rhythmically, trade off sentences, hiss and echo like a malevolent Greek chorus. And the look of the show — especially Shelly Henriott’s slightly askew steampunklike costumes — conjure a faded circus, a place where illusion and fantasy barely hide a more grim reality.
The technical aspects seem stronger than ever this year. Dana Mott’s projections enhance the various stories. A digital one-eyed black cat stares at the audience with sinister intent. When images of blood run down the screen, a chill runs down the spine.
The music, too, by various local and international composers, is both evocative and memorable — especially for a masquerade-ball movement and a particularly treacherous tango.
Les Caulfield’s sound design fills the theater — but too often to the detriment of the actors who have to shout to be heard over the things-going-bump-in-the-night effects. In fact, there’s too much shouting in general this go-around, and that occasionally makes it harder to understand the climactic moments of a frightening tale.
In between the stories, there’s a barely sketched story line about dissension within the troupe and one member’s indecision about leaving her fellow troubadours. (Apparently you can resign this otherworldly commission?) The interstitial material lets the actors intone statements such as “This is who we are, this is what we do” with — dare I say it? — deadly seriousness. It’s overwrought for my taste, but the hard-core fans seem to appreciate it.
I sit through those short scenes waiting for them to return to what they do best: breathing new life into tales of the undead.