“Do you not think that there are things which you cannot understand, and yet which are?” opens Plexus Polaire’s Dracula: Lucy’s Dream. On January 15, the French-Norwegian puppeteering company returned to kick off the seventh Chicago International Puppet Theater Festival at the Studebaker Theater downtown, two years after they last opened the festival with their production of Moby Dick.
As Robert Egger’s film Nosferatu makes the waves, Plexus Polaire’s Dracula presents a particularly relevant story. Loosely adapting the character of Lucy Westenra from Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Plexus tells a tale of a woman clutched in the throes of evil, trapped in a cycle of fear and attraction. Plexus’ production, however, kicks this concept up a notch: floating vampire sex, cannibalized babies, and sprouting limbs intersperse Lucy writhing on a hospital bed, culminating in a psychical Ragnarök. As you might guess, the show requires a strong stomach—which is great if you like the taste of blood.
Within the story, Lucy is both the seduced and the seductress. At times, she is the object of Dracula’s desire, at others, she is Dracula herself. At its core, the insidious evil in Plexus’ Dracula lies in the question of whether Dracula is a physical monster or an illness embedded deep within Lucy’s psyche. Plexus physicalizes this question by nimbly changing Lucy’s roles between doll and human form. The human Lucy entangles herself with Dracula, while the doll Lucy literalizes moments where she is a figurative object.
Nevertheless, frequent switches between actors and puppets are not without practical challenges. Plexus Polaire’s Dracula, in line with contemporary bunraku—a form of Japanese theater that emphasizes a puppeteer’s direct manipulation of anthropomorphic dolls—relies on meticulous puppeteering to create a suspension of disbelief for its audience. This illusion, however, is easily shattered, especially when the puppet moves against the typical motions of the human body. Yet the very ability of the puppet to contort unnaturally may be meaningful: a testament to the puppet’s ability to absorb much more force than the human form can take.
Plexus Polaire is not afraid to experiment and push boundaries. Playing with translucent veils and projections, Plexus crafts an ethereal if not horrifying reality—a kind of fever dream. From puppeteers in Guy Fawkes masks to Dracula morphing into a man-spider, Plexus’ Dracula is certainly one of the oddest things I’ve seen on stage.
Perhaps it’s most apt to think about this production of Dracula as a contemporary, intentionally uncomfortable commentary on evil. Indeed, the story of Dracula invites questions about how we think of temptation, lust, and sickness; this production only does so in more absurd and aesthetic ways. We tend to avoid responsibility for our evil, so much so that we frequently cast it as an alter ego—the Hyde to our Jekyll. However, to triumph over evil, we may have to come face to face with it, as Lucy does.
Plexus Polaire’s Dracula: Lucy’s Dream asks more questions about evil than it answers, but if there are things that we cannot understand—which there are—evil is certainly one of them.
