23/25 October 2024 I 14:30/20:00 I Cornhill Quarter, Lincoln
⭐⭐⭐
Eulogy, defined by Darkfield's immediately recognisable presence, is delivered inside a shipping container able to tour internationally. Using binaural sound alongside a total blackout, audiences are invited into a new realm of the human conscience. Foregrounded with headphones and a microphone, you answer a series of pre-recorded yes/no questions, proceeding your journey. The concept ultimately excels itself, using the power of suggestion to fantasise imagined spaces. However, where it triumphs in originality, the sophistication of narrative does not soar to its potential.
Entirely within the confides of your mind, Eulogy manifests a disembodied journey with illusions between dream and reality, as your assigned chaperone helps you to complete your tasks. At 35 minutes, the experience can feel rushed, although appropriate considering the blackout conditions. Additionally being sat within your own suites (cages), of which you are given a name and allocated to.
The container itself is extremely performative, seating just under 30 participants. Each of the senses is activated in unique, unconventional ways. The space surrounding you comes alive with special effects, where notably with binaural audio, you can be convinced that performers enter the container in realistic dimensions of space, that they are almost too frighteningly close. Marketed with dark thematics, Eulogy doesn't necessarily aim to frighten, rather to unsettle and prompt you to think post-show.
I have been fortunate to experience Eulogy twice in Lincoln, once regularly booked, and the other with thanks to Threshold Studios for supplying our Gothic Theatre university group with comp tickets. The physical claustrophobic space does enhance the experience, although the narrative is where Darkfield fails to lure audiences in. Aforementioned, we are prompted with a small selection of yes/no questions, although it becomes apparent that these 'choices' are irrelevant, other than an amusing twist in final moments. In turn, the vocal recognition feels pointless as your answer refuses to change the direction of plot, thus removing any jeopardy or fear.
This audio drama is non-linear, jumping across a variety of locations within the boundaries of Darkfield's hotel. Some audiences may be able to imagine a scenery better than others. For example, I cannot visualise in my mind's eye, which prompts me to wonder if someone else may be able to immerse themselves with more success. Regardless, a very fast-paced jump between locations is overwhelming, often leading to confusion to exactly where you are, and why it is relevant.
For those concerned about 'jump scares', these are only minor and done in such a way that retains your focus. The first couple are bold, and really uphold the tension in your body. These are executed very early into the experience, whereby a repetitive use lessens the effect, becoming predictable as you become eased into the gimmick of it.
Audiences may choose to trust their chaperone, however with an unnerving intimacy through your ear, likened to the sounds of ASMR, her being is positively disturbing. Perhaps Eulogy is circumstantial to the individual. With direction from David Rosenberg and Glen Neath, allowing our own interpretation of events fascinates me, and has still excited me to attend many more of Darkfield's productions. The smallest sensory details make Eulogy indefinitely riveting, the process of narrative and vocal involvement requiring more intention to ultimately blossom.
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