“Nothing like water…beats drinking your own piss,” scolds Paulina Escobar as she confronts the man responsible for her torturous captivity during her country’s genocide. Graphic testimonies of “drinking your own piss” and being “tied to a cot” for you kidnappers’ own sexual pleasures set a traumatizing tone for the evening in Andrew Crusse’s production of Death and the Maiden. Set in Chile, the play’s plot surrounds Paulina Escobar (Stacy Searle) who is bizarrely reunited by her husband (Thomas Azar) with a man who was once her torturer (Chris Hardin). Though she never saw her torturers because she was blindfolded, she is convinced Dr. Miranda’s voice is that of the man who would rape her while listening to Schubert. In return, Paulina turns the tables on the doctor confining him to one of her dining room chairs. Emotions out of control, Paulina detains the doctor not for vengeance but just to hear him admit to his wrongful actions. The play raised many questions of the morality of eye for an eye. Would Paulina be just as bad as her kidnapper if she in turn tortured him, or is she deserving of her revenge due to fifteen years of mental suffering? The establishment of this violent cycle of crime makes one wonder what it really takes to let go of the past. 

    From the sound bytes of metal repulsively scrapping the cement to the textbook shadows created from precisely placed spotlights, every directorial decision Andrew Crusse made was a triumph. Knowing Paulina’s past sexual relations with her tormentor, I gasped to see her straddling him and the shadow of her slowly peeling down her undergarments to serve as a mouth gag for the infamous doctor. At that point, my heart become empathetic towards Paulina, finally realizing the intense pain she must have to live in her memories with this man. When the masked torturers would appear, my body would begin to cringe as if I was a part of the fabrication, fearing I too could one day be in Paulina’s shoes. Besides the extraordinary thematic elements, the acting was riveting. Stacy Searle sealed this year’s production at Allen Bales with one that shall never be forgotten. At the beginning of the play, she naively pulled her legs into her body sitting in a chair after a nightmare of her past; immediately she captured the audience’s admiration. Her subtle expressions soon developed into intense rages. Even though Searle is easily typecast as the comedic sexy bimbo, her portrayal of Paulina proved her dramatic range and ability to connect to a character both physically and mentally. Thomas Azar also was amazing as her supporting husband tormented with the decision of following his heart or his intellect. He was compassionate, responding unconditionally to Searle’s emotions as any genuine husband would. 

    The sincerity of the play’s acting and overall conception made the audience feel as if they were secretly eavesdropping on a couple’s deepest, darkest confessions to one another. Like an innocent bystander of a car wreck, I found myself unable to pull my attention away from the madness.