The Play Is Starting: You Have Been Warned
DENVER — The warning sign was just outside the theater door. “Please be advised,” it cautioned, in capital letters. “This production contains: Strobe lighting effects. Sudden loud noises. Theatrical fog/haze. Scenes of violence. Adult language. Sexual situations. Adult humor and content.”
The subject was a play called “Vietgone,” about a Vietnamese couple who meet in a refugee camp in Arkansas during the Vietnam War. The Denver Center Theater Company was proud to present the comedy, but it was taking few chances about surprising audiences.
Not so long ago, a theatergoer was handed a program, shown to a seat and left to enjoy the show. Then came notices about strobe lights and smoking. But now, following a trend bubbling up from college campuses, theaters are offering increasingly comprehensive and specific trigger warnings. The phenomenon pits a traditional impulse — to preserve art’s ability to surprise, shock and stir — against a modern desire to accommodate sensitivities.
In Sarasota, Florida, Asolo Repertory Theater not only disclosed “potentially disturbing, realistically depicted gun violence” in “Gloria,” which depicts a workplace shooting, but also included plot particulars in a spoiler section on its website.
Philadelphia’s Interact Theater Company went one step further: In addition to warning that “Sensitive Guys” dealt with sexual assault, the company designated a “safe space” in the lobby and invited representatives of Women Organized Against Rape to talk to patrons upset by the material.
Even classic works are not exempt: For its recent production of “Oklahoma!,” St. Ann’s Warehouse in New York handed out a black card when patrons picked up their tickets, warning of gunshots as well as “moments of darkness and violence” and offering guidance for those who want to walk out.
Trigger warnings have become part of the college experience, surviving mockery and concerns about censorship to win acceptance, if not broad approval. Now demand for those warnings is spreading among the wider public. “People who have grown up with warnings now expect them,” said Becky Witmer, the managing director of ACT Theater in Seattle.
As mass shooting deaths have risen, more plays are depicting them. But Shakespeare was plenty vio- lent, too. “What’s different now is that there is genuine consideration given to the unseen and unknown potential for harm when someone is traumatized in ways that could have been avoided,” said James Bundy, dean of the Yale School of Drama in Connecticut.
Not everyone l i kes the idea, though. “We have a generation coming of age that expects to be protected from discomfort, and a lot of companies succumb to that,” said Susie Medak, the managing director of Berkeley Repertory Theater in California. “To me, it’s a frustrating trend — what’s the point of experiencing art if you don’t expect to be surprised?”
Her theater does not provide trigger warnings but instead advises those with concerns about specific forms of content to call the box office and ask.
Joseph Haj, the artistic director of the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis, said he did not like trigger warnings but had accepted letting people know
Taking out some of the surprise to protect sensitive viewers.
what to expect. The theater’s recent production of “Frankenstein” featured a “content advisory” alerting patrons to “strobe lights, haze, simulated gunshots and scenes depicting physical and sexual violence.”
Mr. Haj, reflecting on his conflicted feelings about the issue, said: “As grown-up people, we should be able to grapple with difficult ideas together. That said, audiences don’t like to be jumped.”
“Vietgone” is peppered with vulgarities and includes scenes of sex and violence as well as discussion of wartime trauma. Leaders of the Denver theater started thinking about how to handle that as soon as they read the script, which was written by Qui Nguyen.
“We’re all just trying to find the line between setting people’s expectations and not treating them like children and not giving away the core of the story,” said Chris Coleman, the artistic director.
“It’s ridiculous,” said Marc Heft, a health care recruiter attending a “Vietgone” performance. “I’m an adult. I can handle swear words.”