AndrewAndrew

Jerk
Who knew that a show about Dean Corll, a Texas Pedophiliac Serial Killer responsible for the deaths of over 20 teenage boys, could be told using hand puppets and ventriloquism? Certainly not us. However, if you think that it sounds like a perfect combination of “style vs. substance” that leads to a riveting and absorbing work of experimental theater, think again. Although we are not fans of the deep dark eerie tale of the cold blooded killer (Henry, Portrait of a Serial Killer or The Silence of the Lambs) we do appreciate the creepy feeling you get when watching a well crafted production that channels pure evil and then hands it to you like a severed head on a platter. Makes you get up and make sure the door is locked.

Jerk, a very drawn-out 55 minute show at Performance Space 122’s COIL, is not one of these. The premiss is that the convicted killer is asked to recreate the murders for a College Psychology Class, and like all good psychopaths he chooses to tell his tale using puppets and different voices. The audience, the stand in for the class, sits and listens to him describe the murders in horrific detail. So horrific that there were  rumors going around the Under the Radar and COIL festivals that people were fainting and passing out during the performance. We did neither, but admit we did regret the enormous meal of Mexican food we had before the show. In a move that just might be the best part of the show, as well as a first for our theater going experience, the actor who plays Dean Corll passes out reference materials and instructs the audience to read it while he goes off stage a bit. It’s a nice take way souvenir of the murders; limited edition artist booklets that recount the gruesome killings. Nice.

It is discomfiting and disturbing at times, but for the wrong reasons. Watching the hand puppets rape and murder you start asking yourself  ”Why would someone feel the need to write and produce this?” or “What am I doing listening to this?”  Finally you realize that there will be no insight into the killer’s twisted head nor will you discover any new revelations about the nature of pure evil. There is no payoff. To his credit, however, Jonathan Capdevielle is a very talented puppet master and ventriloquist. During the last part of the show he sits having a dialog with himself using three distinct voices without moving his lips. He just sits there drooling. We wish that the script and staging had fully used his unique talents. This was the most creepy part of the performance and made us, if only for a moment, want to check the door.

Directed by Gisèle Vienne (France)
Text and dramaturgy by Dennis Cooper
Performed by and created in collaboration with Jonathan Capdevielle
212-352-3101 or at PS122 box office Performance Space 122 150 First Ave. E. 9th Street