Locked In | Shock Therapy Productions

Locked In is an original play that is not, as one might assume from just reading the name, about some house-bound trial of a covid-era world, but instead an exploration of the rare and challenging Locked In Syndrome (LiS). A neurological disorder that affects the ability to control the body, whilst the mind stays bright and conscious within.

A masterclass in restraint, there is abundant space in this performance, with much unusual and interesting to muse upon. A highlight is the mixed stage vocabulary of acting, physical movement, dance and projection, creating a highly watchable storytelling mechanism.

This image + cover image: David Carberry

The central character is played Sam Foster, who was in fact completely immobile except for his eyes for the vast majority of the show. It must be such an interesting role as a highly physical performer to slow the body down so very much, to become soft and fragile, to allow others to physically manipulate your body and stay inert. In some ways it had me in mind of the striking challenges that Tadashi Suzuki used to insist his performers underwent. It also leaned towards Butoh, with that discipline’s omnipresence of self.

We also had a key character who did not speak English (Hsin-Ju Ely) with zero apology or attempt to subtitle or otherwise explain. And in fact this was delightful in that truly the dialogue was less important than the actions, and I don’t know that I’ve seen that before. We could think more about the actions behind the daily grind and the meaning hidden in small acts of service, The whole performance was articulated in such a way that space was created for us as audience to really lean into it and think deeply for ourselves about what this experience might be like.

Image: David Carberry

There were many facets of the relationships for us to explore, from the wife whose experiences range from despair and horror to everyday ordinary errands and affection. Hsin-Ju Ely is a respectable actor and an exquisite dancer, whose movement sequences added a sharp yet affectionate punctuation to the rhythm of the play.

There is a nod to the prevalence of abuse of people with disabilities in the flawed character of the nurse, played effectively by Hayden Jones. A bumbling character, an every-man, simple and bored and casually cheerful, and also, yes, casually cruel, it injected a sense of real life into this hospital scene that is so far removed from most our lives. The audience made a visceral response to a scene of wanton cruelty, so many of us have been touched by the scandal of poor health care ad even those of us that haven’t are intimately in tune to the transgression against duty of care to the vulnerable. I reflect on power structures, how humans are always sizing each other up and down and jostling for position. How we often don’t have a clear understanding of our power within any given situation. How even, or perhaps especially, amongst those with little power is a fervent violence just below the surface.

Only one aspect was missing from this play, that of mental health. On my deepdive into the internet wormhole reading all about LiS today, it was something that was raised by several medical journals; the risk of plummeting self-esteem and its effect on mental health. This is only hinted at in the final stunning finish with the contorted face of the main character beaming out in joyous madness. At what point would you abandon your sanity if LiS was your experience? Having recently read a book exploring the experiences of people in solitary confinement, I wonder at the contortions of a wild mind that is completely at the mercy of others for all aspects of engagement, affection, intellectual pursuits and entertainment. Solitary confinement results in drastic mental health issues in as little as a single day.  The two more famous examples of Jean-Dominique Bauby and Martin Pistorius cited in the show notes had strong networks of supporters, but there must be many more who spend vast quantities of time going no where but wildly around in circles in the mind. Would you have the fortitude to painstakingly write a book with a ghost writer assistant, one letter at a time, by blinking when the correct letter was read out?

Image: David Carberry

Sam Foster manages to imbue an incredible amount of information from just the use of eyes, maintaining his character with great discipline, the face still except for those roaming eyes. We barely witnessed so much as a swallow.  The transformation was all the more vibrant when he did leap to his feet to act out the wild undulations of the mind, giving a zest to the vibrant thoughts of the patient. There was little in the way of literally transcribing the interior thoughts, instead movement sequences, clever yet restrained projections and an epic soundtrack from Guy Webster combined to create space for the audience to fill their minds with their own warbling’s. In fact, this was probably the most clever part of the play, that it fired my mind so much, giving me this connection to the main character through our shared experience of a lively mind.

The three characters were a set, but also each had their own movement vocabulary, which I think is what added to making this performance so watchable. For a seventy-five minute play, there was a lot less action on stage than normal, but there was no minute where I lost traction or interest. There were a few scenes that could probably get tightened especially around that 60 minute mark or thereabouts. Nonetheless, there was a tension and a pace that gathered and brought us to a finale that was both climatic and a non sequitur. In the end, nothing changes, and we are left to consider the endless meditation of a lively mind in a recalcitrant body.

Image: David Carberry

There was a great sense of aeons of time, time that lasts for months and decades, without resolution. And we are left without resolution, there is no golden Hollywood happy ending. There is no rapturous recovery with family gathered to applaud. There is no seminal moment where the character is redeemed and made whole. Locked In is a deep reflection on quality of life, on the way in which the human creature in us strives for life and love at all costs, and perseveres in spite of all obstacles.