“Sucks in the Middle” by Hung Wei-yao at the National Taichung Theater wasn’t just a play (18/5/2024); it was a multi-sensory experience that shattered the boundaries between audience and performance. Our very first foray into Chinese-language theater in Taiwan became an unforgettable night that left us both captivated and deeply moved.
The journey began even before the play itself. We entered a vast, white tent with a single, gaping hole in the center. After a few minutes of anticipation, a figure emerged from the opening – a woman, heavily pregnant. Or was she? As she proudly invited the audience to touch her belly, no it was a plastic ball she inflated herself. This playful subversion of expectation set the tone for the evening: nothing was as it seemed.
The tent then dramatically dropped, we were all standing on the stage itself. But before we could get our bearings, a flurry of activity unfolded. Small, evocative stories began to play out simultaneously: a manic figure came out of a huge hole with a cart overflowing with mannequin dolls, a staged crucification unfolded with chilling intensity, and a hint of forbidden love simmered on the periphery. A tiny woman, seemingly a dwarf, beckoned us closer in her home, her story whispered in hushed tones.
Throughout this captivating chaos, music pulsed, creating an atmosphere that was both electrifying and unsettling. A graffiti artist sprayed the walls, his work mirroring the fragmented narratives on stage. Then, a tremor. The floor rumbled, and the entire theater vibrated with the simulated force of an earthquake. We found ourselves lying down, a collective gasp escaping the audience as we became one with the performance. We had to choose which story we wanted to focus on, even if we didn’t want to see some parts of stories unrolling simultaneously. Did we want to see the rape? The lonely man making love with himself?
The lines between audience and performer became increasingly blurred. Who are you? You have to choose? We, the watchers, became invested, piecing together the fragmented narratives and drawing connections. Is there somebody called Lin in your family? What is local? Who is aboriginal? Who is local? Where is the middle? It sucks in the middle. The grand curtain rose, revealing a surprising twist. The actors themselves were now seated in the middle of the theater, watching as we, the former audience, had become actors on the stage. In the middle lies a dead man. It sucks in the middle.
“Sucks in the Middle” wasn’t just a play; it was an experience. It challenged our perceptions, demanded our participation, and ultimately, left us deeply moved. It’s a must-see for anyone seeking innovative theater that pushes boundaries and ignites conversation.
