A dazzling “What the fuck?” of a play. Starting with a sense of dread and dropping unsettling oddities that accumulate in delicious and ominous ways, The Lights Are On is a tight 90 minutes that unfold with the logic of a nightmare. Are we in a psychological horror movie? An Albee drama? An apocalyptic environmental disaster story? I’d say all of the above. With three compelling but deeply untrustworthy characters, this is a play where no one is safe — meaning for themselves or for the audience. Practically demands a second read.
A dazzling “What the fuck?” of a play. Starting with a sense of dread and dropping unsettling oddities that accumulate in delicious and ominous ways, The Lights Are On is a tight 90 minutes that unfold with the logic of a nightmare. Are we in a psychological horror movie? An Albee drama? An apocalyptic environmental disaster story? I’d say all of the above. With three compelling but deeply untrustworthy characters, this is a play where no one is safe — meaning for themselves or for the audience. Practically demands a second read.